ARIA'S POV
The dying man's silver eyes stared at me like I was his last hope.
My nurse instincts kicked in before my brain could catch up. I dropped to my knees beside him, hands hovering over his chest. Blood—so much blood—pooled beneath him. The black veins crawling across his skin pulsed like they were alive.
"Okay, okay, stay calm," I muttered. To him? To me? Both, probably.
I pressed my hands against the worst wound—a deep gash across his ribs. Warm blood immediately soaked through my fingers. He gasped, body jerking.
"I know it hurts," I said automatically, falling into my ER voice. "But I need to stop the bleeding. Just breathe. In and out. Stay with me."
His silver eyes locked onto mine. He tried to speak but only blood came out.
No. Not like this. I didn't survive getting hit by a car just to watch someone else die in front of me.
"You're not dying," I told him firmly. "I won't let you."
The golden mark on my palm suddenly burned hot. Not painful—just warm, like someone had pressed a heating pad against my skin. Light spilled from it, golden and bright, flooding between my fingers.
The man's eyes went wide.
The light poured into his wounds. I felt it—actually FELT it—flowing out of me and into him. It was like my energy was leaving my body and fixing his. The black veins on his skin writhed, fighting against the light.
"What's happening?" I whispered.
But I didn't stop. Couldn't stop. The light had a mind of its own.
The deep gash started closing. Skin knitted together. The black veins retreated, shrinking back like they were scared of the golden glow. His breathing evened out. Color returned to his pale face.
Thirty seconds later, the light faded.
I yanked my hands back, staring at them. No blood. The wounds were gone. Completely healed.
"Holy—" I couldn't even finish the sentence.
The man's chest rose and fell steadily now. His eyes fluttered closed. He was unconscious but alive. Definitely alive.
I sat back hard, my own heart racing. "What did I just do?"
My hands were shaking. The mark on my palm still glowed faintly, like embers cooling down.
This wasn't possible. People didn't glow. People didn't heal fatal wounds with their bare hands. People didn't—
A twig snapped behind me.
I spun around.
Three massive wolves stood at the edge of the clearing. Not regular wolves. These were huge—the size of horses—with eyes that gleamed with way too much intelligence.
They stared at me. Then at the unconscious man. Then back at me.
One of them growled low in its throat.
"Nice doggies?" I tried weakly.
The largest wolf—black with golden eyes—stepped forward. Its lips pulled back, showing teeth the size of my fingers.
I scrambled backward until my back hit a tree. "I didn't do anything wrong! I was just helping him!"
The wolf kept advancing.
My hand closed around a rock. A stupid, useless rock that wouldn't do anything against a monster wolf. But it was all I had.
The wolf was ten feet away. Five feet.
It opened its mouth.
Then the man behind me spoke.
"Stop."
His voice was rough, barely a whisper. But the effect was immediate.
All three wolves froze. The black one's ears flattened. It actually looked... scared?
I glanced back. The silver-eyed man was sitting up, one hand braced against the ground. He was still naked, still covered in scars, but the blood was gone. He looked at the wolves with those intense silver eyes.
"She saved me," he said slowly, like speaking hurt. "She's... Lifebringer."
The wolves' entire posture changed. The black one dropped to its belly. The other two followed, pressing their giant heads against the ground.
Like they were bowing.
"What's a Lifebringer?" I asked.
The man looked at me. Really looked at me. His eyes traveled from my face to my hands—specifically to the glowing mark on my palm.
"Salvation," he whispered. "You're salvation."
Then his eyes rolled back and he collapsed again.
"Wait, no—don't pass out!" I crawled over to him, checking his pulse. Still strong. He was just exhausted.
The wolves were still bowing. Not moving. Just watching me with those freaky intelligent eyes.
I was in a forest with three moons, glowing plants, giant wolves, and a man who could turn into a snow leopard. I had a magic mark that healed people. And apparently I was something called a "Lifebringer" that made wolves bow.
"This is not heaven," I said out loud. "This is definitely not heaven."
One of the wolves made a sound—almost like agreement.
I laughed. It came out high and slightly hysterical. "Okay. Okay. I'm going crazy. That's what's happening. I'm actually dying in a parking lot and this is some weird brain-death hallucination."
But it felt too real. The moss under my knees. The cool night air. The weight of the unconscious man's head now resting against my lap.
I looked down at him. Even covered in scars and dirt, he was beautiful. Sharp cheekbones. Strong jaw. Silver-white hair that fell across his forehead. He looked young—maybe early thirties—but something about his eyes had seemed ancient.
Who was he?
What was this place?
And why did that mark appear on my hand the moment I died?
The black wolf suddenly lifted its head, ears swiveling. A low growl rumbled from its chest.
The other two wolves stood up, fur bristling.
They were looking at the trees. At something I couldn't see.
"What?" I whispered. "What's wrong?"
Then I heard it.
Footsteps. Lots of them. Coming fast.
And voices—rough, male, speaking a language I somehow understood even though I'd never heard it before.
"The cursed one came this way."
"If he's still alive, we finish it. The Alpha's orders."
"And if there's a female with him?"
"Then she's ours."
The way he said "ours" made my skin crawl.
The wolves pressed closer to me and the unconscious man, forming a protective circle. Their growls grew louder.
My heart hammered. The man was still unconscious. I had no weapons. No idea where I was or how to fight.
And a group of something was coming to kill us.
The footsteps got closer.
Shadows moved between the trees.
Then they stepped into the clearing.
Five men. Except they weren't quite human. Their eyes glowed yellow in the darkness. Claws extended from their fingertips. When they smiled, their teeth were pointed.
More shifters. Had to be.
The leader—a massive guy with scars across his bare chest—grinned when he saw me.
"Well, well," he said. "What do we have here? A female? And with the cursed one?" His grin widened. "This is our lucky night, boys."
I held up my glowing palm without thinking. "Stay back."
He laughed. "Or what, little female? You'll—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
His eyes locked onto my palm. Onto the golden mark.
The color drained from his face.
"Impossible," he breathed. "That mark. It can't be—"
"Kill her!" one of his friends shouted. "Kill her NOW before she—"
The wolves attacked.
Everything exploded into chaos—snarling, screaming, blood flying.
And my mark started glowing brighter. Hotter.
Like it was ready to do something much worse than healing.