The sound hit first.
Not a growl, not a howl. A low, pulsing hum that crawled under my skin and made my wolf stir in alarm. Every instinct screamed run, but the chains at my belt and the woman beside me kept me rooted.
Aria moved slow, her silver glow flickering faintly under her skin. The trees around us seemed to shiver, the shadows shifting even when the wind was still.
Then we saw it.
It stepped out from between the trees, tall and lean, its limbs too long, its spine arched like something only half-human. Its face was pale, the eyes hollow—shards of white light staring back without a hint of life.
It didn't move like a wolf. It didn't even breathe. It just… stood there, the hum rising, vibrating in my chest like an echo I couldn't shake.
Aria's hand hovered near her blade, her breath even, but I could hear the whisper beneath it—faint, insistent. Let me handle it. Let me show you what real strength feels like.
I stepped closer to her, lowering my voice. "Don't listen to it. Whatever that thing is, it wants you to snap."
Her jaw tightened, but her eyes stayed on the creature. "What do you suggest, then? Ask it nicely to leave?"
Before I could answer, it moved. One second it stood still; the next, it blurred forward, a streak of pale limbs and hollow light.
Aria met it head-on, claws flashing silver as they clashed in a burst of sound. Her strike sent it skidding back, but the impact only made her glow flare brighter. Too bright. Too fast.
The hum grew louder, and I realized—it wasn't just coming from the creature. It was coming from her.
Her pupils thinned to slits as her movements sharpened. Each strike was faster, harder, less controlled. The creature twisted away, its motions unnatural but deliberate, almost as if it were drawing her out, feeding on the chaos she carried.
"Aria!" I shouted, stepping forward despite the chains. "Anchor. To me. Right here!"
Her head snapped toward me for just a fraction of a second. The creature lunged, aiming for her throat.
I didn't think. I shifted, my claws tearing through the chains, muscles burning as I collided with the creature mid-air. It slammed me into the ground, its weight cold, almost empty, but I drove my claws into its side and kicked it back.
Aria was there before I could rise, pulling me up by the arm. Her glow still burned, but I could see the flicker of herself breaking through.
"Don't lose yourself," I growled.
"Then don't die," she shot back, her voice sharper than usual.
The creature circled us now, slow and deliberate. Its light-pale eyes narrowed, the hum rising to a pitch that made the trees around us quiver.
Aria's glow pulsed in answer, her breath coming fast, uneven. The Veilborn inside her wasn't whispering anymore—it was singing, a siren call that promised power and destruction all at once.
And then the creature stopped circling. Its head tilted, and in a voice that didn't belong in any living throat, it spoke.
"Veilborn."
The word rolled like static, cutting through the air.
Aria froze. Her glow dimmed, then flared, almost violently. The creature extended one impossibly long arm toward her, not to strike, but to beckon.
"Come. Or he dies."
Its hollow eyes turned toward me.
Aria's claws flexed, her glow sparking like lightning beneath her skin. She didn't move. Not yet. But I could see it—the pull. The way it was calling to her.
And for the first time, I wasn't sure if I could stop her from answering.