The moment the shadow-born vanished back into the treeline, the forest exhaled—as if relieved to no longer hold its breath. But Evelyn's lungs refused to move. Her body felt suspended between two opposing worlds, each tugging at her with a force she couldn't understand.
Ronan's hand closed around her wrist—not harsh, but desperate."Look at me."
She did.
And the expression on his face nearly buckled her knees. His eyes were the storm she knew too well—wolf fighting instinct, alpha fighting fear, man fighting the reality he didn't want to accept.
"I told you," he said quietly. "Their presence means the mark is changing."
She pulled in a shaky breath. "Changing… how?"
Ronan hesitated. That alone terrified her.
"Evelyn, there are stories—old ones—about shadow heirs." His voice dropped. "They aren't made. They're awakened. And once awakened… the shadows obey them. Not the other way around."
She stared at him, heartbeat hammering. "You think I'm—"
"I don't want you to be."The confession ripped out of him.
Before she could respond, the moonlight shifted—brightening, then dimming, as if clouds passed over it. But there were no clouds. The sky was painfully clear.
Ronan took a step back, gaze locked on her mark.
It was glowing.
A soft pulse—slow, steady, like a heartbeat not her own.
Evelyn stumbled, clutching her arm as heat radiated through her veins. Not painful. Not exactly. But deep. Ancient. Like something buried inside her was climbing up through her skin.
Ronan reached for her again—and froze.
Because the ground beneath them trembled.
Not an earthquake.A response.
To her.
"Evelyn—" His voice cracked. "Control it. You have to control it."
"I'm not doing anything!"
The mark pulsed again—brighter this time—and the shadows between the trees stirred, lifting like faint smoke, reaching for her.
Ronan swore under his breath and pulled her against his chest. "Listen to me. Don't let it claim you. You're still here. You're still mine."
She felt the tremor in his body—something she'd never felt from him. Fear.Real fear.
And not for himself.
For her.
The shadows swirled, circling them, whispering in a language that felt half-remembered and half-nightmare. Her pulse synced with the whispers. Her breath hitched. And for a terrifying second, she wanted to step into them.
Wanted to answer them.
The mark flared.
Ronan wrapped his arms around her tighter. "Evelyn, stay with me. Don't go where I can't follow."
His voice grounded her.Pulled her back.
She pressed her forehead to his chest, forcing air into her lungs until the shadows hesitated—wavering—then slowly sank back into the trees.
Silence crashed around them.
Evelyn's legs buckled. Ronan caught her before she hit the ground, lifting her easily. But his hands were trembling.
He'd never trembled before.
"Ronan…" she whispered. "What's happening to me?"
His jaw clenched, anguish flickering behind his eyes."I don't know," he said. "But we're running out of time."
He looked back at the dark forest, then at her mark, still faintly glowing.
"And whatever's coming… it's coming for you."