Kella
The forest breathed.
That was the first thing I noticed as I ran.
Not the snap of twigs beneath my boots.
Not the cold burn in my lungs.
Not even the fear clawing at my chest.
The forest breathed—slow, deep, alive—like it recognized me.
I didn't know why I was running.
One moment I had been in my room, pacing, trying to ignore the restless heat under my skin, the strange pull tugging at my bones. The next, I was outside, barefoot, hair loose, heart racing as if something ancient had whispered my name.
Kella.
The sound echoed inside my head.
I swallowed hard and slowed, my steps faltering as moonlight spilled through the canopy above. The full moon hung low, swollen and bright, bathing the clearing in silver.
My body trembled.
Not from cold.
From need.
"What is wrong with me?" I whispered.
My hands clenched into fists, nails biting into my palms. My senses were… wrong. Too sharp. I could smell damp earth, pine sap, distant water. I could hear insects humming, leaves rustling far beyond where my eyes could see.
And underneath it all—
Blood.
Not spilled.
Not fresh.
But alive.
The realization sent a shiver down my spine.
I turned in a slow circle, breath shallow. The clearing felt familiar, like I had stood here before—maybe in another life, another skin.
My chest tightened.
Then pain struck.
It wasn't sudden. It rolled through me, deep and hot, starting in my spine and spreading outward like fire through bone. I cried out, dropping to my knees as my vision blurred.
"No—no, no—" I gasped.
My heart thundered, too loud, too fast. My skin burned, as if something beneath it was trying to push its way out. I clawed at my arms, panic flooding me as my pulse roared in my ears.
This wasn't normal.
This wasn't human.
A scream tore from my throat, raw and broken—and it echoed back to me.
Answered.
The forest went still.
Every sound died at once, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Then I felt it.
Him.
Power slammed into the clearing like a storm breaking. The air thickened, heavy with dominance, ancient and undeniable. My body reacted before my mind could—my spine straightened, my breath hitched, and something inside me bowed.
Footsteps approached, slow and deliberate.
I didn't have to look to know who it was.
Alpha Kael.
He stepped into the moonlight, massive frame outlined in silver, dark eyes glowing faintly like embers banked beneath ash. His presence alone made my skin hum, every nerve screaming awareness.
"Kella," he said, voice low and sharp.
Relief and fear tangled inside me.
"I—I don't know what's happening," I choked, struggling to stand. My legs wobbled, refusing to obey me. "Something's wrong. I feel like I'm—"
Breaking.
He was in front of me in an instant, hands gripping my shoulders, grounding, solid, real. Heat radiated from him, steady and commanding, and my body leaned into it without permission.
His jaw clenched.
"You shouldn't be out here," he said tightly. "Not tonight."
"Why?" I demanded, tears stinging my eyes. "Why does this place feel like it's inside me? Why do I feel like I'm losing my mind?"
His gaze searched my face, intense, conflicted. For a moment, something dangerous flickered there—recognition, shock, and something that looked disturbingly like fear.
"You're not losing your mind," he said slowly.
My breath hitched.
"Then what am I losing?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, the pain surged again, fiercer this time. I cried out, collapsing against him as my knees gave way. He caught me easily, one arm wrapping around my waist, the other bracing my back.
My scream turned into a gasp as something inside my chest howled.
Not aloud.
Inside.
A soundless cry that shook my soul.
Kael stiffened.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.
I looked up at him, tears spilling freely now. "Please," I begged. "Tell me what's wrong with me."
His throat worked as he swallowed.
You're not ready, his eyes seemed to say.
But the truth was already clawing its way to the surface.
The forest answered my pain with a low, distant howl.
Then another.
And another.
My head snapped up, heart hammering as the sounds wrapped around the clearing. They weren't threatening.
They were calling.
My body responded with a shudder that felt dangerously close to relief.
"Do you hear that?" I whispered.
Kael's grip tightened.
"Yes," he said grimly. "And that's exactly the problem."
The pain eased suddenly, leaving behind a hollow ache and a deep, bone-level exhaustion. I sagged against him, breath coming in weak pants.
"What's happening to me?" I asked again, my voice small.
He looked down at me for a long moment, conflict warring across his face. His hand came up slowly, brushing my hair back from my damp forehead with unexpected gentleness.
"You're awakening," he said finally.
The word sent a chill through me.
"To what?"
He hesitated—just a fraction too long.
"To who you are," he answered.
That wasn't an answer.
But before I could press him, movement flickered at the edges of the clearing. Shadows emerged between the trees—wolves. Massive, powerful, eyes glowing as they watched us.
They didn't advance.
They waited.
Like guards.
Like witnesses.
My breath caught.
"They're… beautiful," I whispered, awe replacing fear.
Kael's body went rigid.
"You shouldn't be able to look at them like that," he said quietly.
I frowned. "Like what?"
"Without fear."
Something clicked.
Slow. Heavy. Terrifying.
I looked down at my trembling hands. At the way the moonlight clung to my skin. At how my heart no longer raced in panic—but in recognition.
"What am I?" I asked, barely breathing.
Kael closed his eyes.
Just for a second.
When he opened them again, his gaze was resolute—but filled with something dangerously close to tenderness.
"You're mine to protect," he said instead.
It wasn't an answer.
But it was a promise.
He lifted me into his arms as if I weighed nothing, turning away from the watching wolves.
As he carried me back toward the pack house, my consciousness began to fade—but not before one final, undeniable truth settled deep in my bones.
Whatever I was—
The moon knew me.
And soon…
So would I.