Calyn's POV
I lunge for the knife under my pillow.
The creature wearing my mother's face moves faster. Her hand—cold as death—wraps around my wrist before the blade clears the mattress.
"Don't," she says, those black void eyes boring into mine. "Steel won't help you. Nothing will."
"Get away from me!" I try to yank my arm free, but her grip is iron.
"Or what? You'll drain me?" She laughs, and it sounds nothing like my mother. "Go ahead. Try it."
My power surges up automatically, reaching for her. But the moment it touches her, it recoils like it's been burned. The energy snaps back into me so violently I gasp.
She's right. My power doesn't work on her.
"What are you?" I whisper.
"I told you. I'm your future." She releases my wrist and sits on the edge of my bed, casual as anything. "Three months from now, when Morgana's training is complete, you'll look exactly like this. Black eyes. Empty inside. Hungry for everything."
"You're lying."
"Am I?" She tilts her head. "Tell me, Calyn—how did it feel today when you killed that rogue? When you drained Lily? Did the power feel good?"
I don't answer, but my silence says everything.
"That's what I thought." She smiles with my mother's face. "Every time you use your power, you get closer to this. To me. To becoming the perfect Void—empty of everything except hunger."
"I won't let that happen."
"You already are." She stands, circling me like a predator. "You made a deal with Morgana. You agreed to owe her a debt. Do you even know what she's going to ask for?"
My stomach drops. "How do you—"
"Because I lived through it." Her black eyes gleam. "I'm you, Calyn. Three months older. Three months emptier. I came back to warn you—or maybe to make sure you follow the same path I did. I haven't decided yet."
This is impossible. Time travel doesn't exist. "You're not real. You're just a nightmare—"
"Touch me," she challenges.
Against my better judgment, I reach out. My fingers brush her arm.
She's solid. Real. Cold as a corpse, but undeniably here.
"Still think I'm a dream?" she asks.
The door bursts open. Rowan charges in, already shifting, with Rhea right behind him.
But they freeze when they see the creature.
"Calyn?" Rowan's voice is strangled. "What—who—"
"She looks like my mother," I say quickly. "But she's not. She claims to be me from the future."
Morgana appears in the doorway, and for the first time since I met her, she looks genuinely shocked. "Impossible. Time magic is forbidden. The cost is too high—"
"And yet here I am." Future-me turns to face them. "Hello, Rowan. Still pretending you care about her? Or have you figured out your real reason for keeping her close yet?"
Rowan's face goes pale. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, you'll find out. In about two weeks, actually." She smiles cruelly. "That's when you'll finally tell her the truth about why you came to the Deadlands. About what you really want from her."
"Stop it," I say. "Whatever game you're playing—"
"No game." She moves to the window. "Just truth. Uncomfortable, terrible truth. Want to hear more? Like why Morgana really agreed to train you? Or what Rhea's been hiding about the Grey Enclave?"
"Enough!" Morgana slams her staff on the ground, and magic flares through the room. "You have no right to interfere with the timeline—"
"I have every right." Future-me's voice turns hard. "Because I lived through this. I know what's coming. And I'm trying to save us all from what happens next."
"What happens next?" I demand.
She turns those black void eyes on me. "In two months, Matthias dies. Murdered by someone in this room. And you? You consume his power, his pack, everything. You become exactly what the prophecy warned about. The end of all wolves."
The room goes silent.
"You're lying," Rowan says, but his voice lacks conviction.
"Am I? Ask Morgana. She knows the truth. She's known from the beginning what her training would do." Future-me points at the witch. "Tell them. Tell them what really happens to Voids who learn control."
Morgana's face is stone. "Get out of my home."
"Not until they know." Future-me steps toward me. "Control is a lie, Calyn. The more you use your power, the hungrier you become. Morgana isn't teaching you control—she's teaching you to feed efficiently. To drain without guilt. To become the perfect weapon."
"That's not true—"
"Isn't it? Think about today. You killed a rogue and it felt good. Then you drained Lily and fought to stop, but it got easier, didn't it? Each time you use your power, the resistance gets weaker. Until one day, you won't fight it at all."
My hands are shaking. Because she's right. It did get easier today. The second drain was less painful than the first.
"I won't become you," I say desperately.
"You already are." She moves to the window. "But I didn't come here just to scare you. I came to give you a choice."
"What choice?"
"Leave. Now. Tonight. Walk away from Morgana's training, from Rowan's secrets, from all of it. Go somewhere no one will find you. Live alone, never use your power again. It's the only way to stop this future from happening."
"She'd be hunted," Rowan argues. "The Council would never stop—"
"Better hunted than consumed by darkness." Future-me looks at me. "I chose the power. I chose to stay and train and become strong. And look what it cost me. Everything. Everyone. I'm empty, Calyn. There's nothing left inside me except hunger. Is that really what you want?"
I look at Rowan, at Rhea, at Morgana. They're all watching me, waiting.
"I don't know," I whisper.
"Then think about it." Future-me climbs onto the windowsill. "You have until dawn to decide. Stay and become me. Or run and maybe—maybe—stay yourself."
"Wait—where are you going?"
"Back to my own time. This visit has already cost me more than you know." She looks at me one last time. "Choose wisely, Calyn. Because we don't get second chances. Trust me."
She jumps out the window and disappears into the Deadlands darkness.
The four of us stand in stunned silence.
Finally, Morgana speaks. "She's lying. About most of it, anyway. I'm not training you to be a weapon—"
"But she's right about the hunger, isn't she?" I interrupt. "Every time I use my power, it gets easier. The guilt fades. The hesitation disappears. I'm becoming what she said."
Morgana doesn't deny it.
I turn to Rowan. "What did she mean about your 'real reason' for keeping me close? What truth are you hiding?"
His jaw tightens. "It's complicated—"
"Then uncomplicate it!" My voice breaks. "Everyone keeps lying to me! My father lied about what I am. Matthias lied about caring. Senna lied for years. Now apparently you're lying too? Who can I trust?"
"Yourself," Rowan says quietly. "Trust yourself, Calyn. Not me. Not Morgana. Not some version of you from a future that might not even happen. Trust what you feel is right."
"And what if I don't know anymore?" Tears burn my eyes. "What if she's right? What if I'm becoming a monster and I can't even see it?"
Rhea steps forward. "You're not a monster. You're scared. There's a difference."
"Is there?" I look at my hands—the hands that killed today. "I enjoyed draining that rogue. I liked the power. What kind of person does that make me?"
"Human," Rowan says firmly. "Power feels good. That's why people chase it. But what matters is what you do with that feeling. Do you let it control you, or do you control it?"
"I don't know if I can—"
A scream cuts through the night.
We all freeze.
Another scream. Then howls. Many of them.
Morgana's face goes white. "The wards. Something's breaking through the wards."
We rush outside. The Deadlands are lit up with unnatural light—magical barriers flickering and failing. And beyond them, I see wolves. Hundreds of them. An entire army surrounding Morgana's territory.
"How is this possible?" Rhea breathes. "The Council doesn't have enough magic to break through—"
"They do now." Morgana's voice is grim. She points to the front of the army.
Standing there, leading the attack, is my future self.
Her black void eyes are glowing, and she's channeling so much power that the air around her crackles with energy. She's breaking Morgana's wards single-handedly.
"She lied," I whisper. "She didn't come to warn me. She came to lead them here."
Future-me's voice echoes across the clearing, amplified by magic: "Surrender the Void child! Give us Calyn Merewood, or we tear this place apart!"
Rowan shifts immediately, ready to fight. Rhea does the same.
But Morgana grabs my arm. "This is a choice, child. Fight with us and become what she is. Or surrender and spare everyone."
"That's not a choice," I say. "That's a trap either way."
"Yes," Morgana agrees. "Welcome to being a Void. Every choice is a trap."
The wards shatter completely. The army surges forward.
And I have three seconds to decide: fight or surrender.
My power rises up, hungry and eager. It wants to fight. Wants to consume them all.
But if I use it—if I drain hundreds of wolves at once—will I even be myself afterward?
Or will I become her?
The army is fifty yards away.
Forty.
Thirty.
I make my choice.
I step forward, hands raised, and release my power.
Not to drain.
To do something I didn't even know I could do.
I give.
Every ounce of power I've stolen—from the rogue, from Lily, from Matthias's wolves—I push it outward. Returning it to the universe. Emptying myself completely.
The wave of energy explodes from me like a bomb.
And every wolf in that army—friend and enemy alike—is thrown backward by the force of it.
When the light fades, I'm standing alone in the center of a crater.
Completely empty. Completely powerless.
And my future self is staring at me with something like horror.
"What did you do?" she screams.
I smile, even though I can barely stand. "I chose differently."
Then everything goes black.