The smell of blood always came first.
Sera Blackwood crouched behind a rotting oak, her fingers tight around the silver-laced blade at her hip. Three days tracking, two dead ends, and now this—a trail of carnage leading deep into the Blackthorn Forest where even seasoned hunters refused to go.
Smart people stayed away from Blackthorn. But Sera had stopped being smart the night her sister died.
The corpse lay ten feet ahead. Male, mid-thirties, throat torn out. His eyes were frozen wide, like he'd seen hell before it killed him. Sera had seen that look before. Seen it on faces she loved.
Lycan kill. Had to be.
She moved closer, boots silent on the moss-covered ground. The forest was too quiet. No birds. No insects. Just the wind pushing through trees that looked like they were trying to escape their own roots.
Something was watching her.
Sera's pulse kicked up, but her hand stayed steady. She'd learned early that fear was just another tool. Use it or let it use you.
"I know you're there." Her voice cut through the silence. "Come out, or I'll make you."
For a moment, nothing. Then branches snapped to her left—too heavy to be anything human.
She spun, blade up, and froze.
He stood between two ancient pines, more shadow than man. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that fell past his collar. His clothes were torn, streaked with dirt and something that looked like dried blood. But it was his eyes that stopped her cold.
Silver. Glowing. Inhuman.
And fixed right on her.
"You shouldn't be here." His voice was low, rough, like he hadn't used it in days.
Sera raised her blade higher. "Neither should you. That your work?" She jerked her chin toward the body.
His jaw tightened. For a second, something flickered across his face—pain, maybe. Regret. Then it was gone, buried under that cold mask.
"Leave. Now."
"Not how this works." She took a step forward. "You killed someone. I kill you. Simple math."
"You don't understand what you're dealing with."
"Try me."
He moved so fast she almost missed it. One second he was ten feet away, the next he had her wrist in his hand, the blade pressed between them. His grip was iron, but controlled. He could've snapped her bones. He didn't.
Up close, she could see the sharp angles of his face, the exhaustion carved into every line. And those eyes—God, those eyes looked almost human now. Almost.
"I didn't kill him," he said quietly. "But I will kill you if you don't walk away."
"Funny. I was about to say the same thing."
Sera twisted, using his own momentum against him. Her boot connected with his knee, and when he stumbled, she drove her elbow into his ribs. He let go, backing up three steps.
They stared at each other, breathing hard.
"You're fast," he said. Something that might've been respect crossed his face. "For a human."
"You're slow. For a lycan."
His mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but close. "The full moon was two nights ago. I'm... recovering."
That explained the exhaustion. Lycans were strongest during the full moon, weakest right after. If she was going to take him down, now was the time.
But something felt off.
Sera had killed seven lycans in the past three years. Every single one had been rabid with bloodlust, eyes empty, minds gone. This one was different. He was in control. Aware. And he looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"If you didn't kill him," she said slowly, "then what did?"
"Something worse than me."
"Worse than a lycan?"
"Much worse."
Before she could respond, a howl split the air. Long, hollow, hungry. It came from deeper in the forest, echoing off the trees until it felt like it was coming from everywhere at once.
The lycan's face went hard. "You need to run."
"I don't run."
"Then you're going to die."
Another howl answered the first. Then another. They were getting closer.
Sera's instincts screamed at her to move, but she held her ground. "What the hell is that?"
"The reason I'm here." He turned those silver eyes on her again. "And the reason you should've stayed away."
The bushes behind them exploded. Sera spun, blade ready, and her blood went cold.
It looked like a lycan—same basic shape, same predator eyes. But its fur was matted and black, its skin hanging loose like it was rotting off. And the smell. God, the smell was like death and infection mixed together.
A corrupted lycan. She'd heard stories. Never thought they were real.
It lunged.
Sera dove left, hit the ground rolling, came up slashing. Her blade caught its shoulder, and the thing screamed—a sound that made her teeth ache. Silver burned lycans. Should've dropped it.
It just got angrier.
Then the man was there, moving between her and the creature. He didn't have a weapon. Didn't need one. His hand shot out, caught the corrupted lycan by the throat, and slammed it into a tree hard enough to crack bark.
"Go!" he shouted at her.
"Not happening!"
Two more corrupted lycans burst through the trees. Then three. They surrounded them in seconds, circling like sharks.
The man's breathing changed. Got heavier. When Sera glanced at him, she saw his eyes flickering—silver to gold to silver again. His hands were shaking.
"What's wrong with you?" she demanded.
"Can't... control..." His voice was strained. "Full moon's effects. Still in my system. If I shift now, I won't be able to stop."
"Then don't shift!"
"Not a choice!"
One of the corrupted lycans charged. Sera met it head-on, blade flashing. She cut deep, aiming for the heart, but it powered through like it didn't feel pain. Its claws raked across her shoulder, and she bit back a scream.
Blood ran hot down her arm.
The man roared—an actual roar that shook the ground. When Sera looked back, she saw him changing. Bones cracking, reshaping. Fur rippling across skin. His face elongating into something between man and wolf.
But his eyes. His eyes stayed aware. Stayed locked on her.
"Run," he growled, voice distorted. "Before I lose myself."
The corrupted lycans attacked as one.
And Sera made a choice that would change everything.
She didn't run.
She fought beside him.