Evelyn
I couldn't stop staring at the bloodied cloth Caleb left on our porch. It was folded now, hidden deep in my drawer like that would make it less real.
But nothing could make this less real anymore.
Lucian was a werewolf.
The rogue was hunting me.
And apparently… I wasn't just some girl caught in the crossfire.
I was part of this. Somehow.
The letter Lucian showed me still echoed in my mind.
She carries the blood, though she'll never know it.
Until now.
So I did the only thing I could do.
I waited until the sun rose, walked into the kitchen, and looked my mother straight in the eyes.
"Tell me the truth," I said. "About before we moved here. About who we really are."
She froze mid-stir, spoon trembling in the pot.
"What are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about," I snapped. "Blackthorn. Wolves. My blood. Me."
The silence that followed was thunderous.
Then she dropped the spoon, her face pale as ash.
"I was hoping you'd never find out," she whispered.
⸻
Flashback: Her Mother's Past
"I was seventeen when I met your father," she began slowly. "We were both part of something ancient. Not a cult. Not exactly a pack either. A bloodline."
"You were wolves?" I asked.
"No," she said softly. "But we carried the gene. Some of us never shifted. Some never felt the pull. But the ones who did… they weren't always ready."
She paused, hands clenching.
"Your father was one of the strongest. Kind. Loyal. Brave. But that made him dangerous to the wrong people."
"Caleb?" I guessed.
Her eyes filled with tears. "He was your father's cousin. And his murderer."
The breath rushed out of me.
"He burned the Blackthorn house," she said, voice cracking. "Your father stayed behind to hold him off. To save us."
"And he died?"
She nodded. "I ran. I was pregnant with you. I changed my name, moved to a town where no one knew what I was. I wanted you to have a normal life."
Tears stung my eyes. "But I'm not normal."
"No," she said. "You're not."
⸻
Lucian
She didn't speak much after that. Just hugged her mom tight and came straight to me. I knew from the look in her eyes that something had shifted.
She wasn't just scared anymore.
She was ready.
"You said there's someone from your old pack still around?" Evelyn asked.
I nodded. "Not many. But one."
"Take me to them."
I didn't argue.
⸻
The drive was long — deep into the outer woods, past roads that hadn't been used in years. The old pack house was barely standing: ivy strangled its walls, the windows were boarded up, and the air was heavy with memories.
He was waiting on the porch. A tall, graying man with a cane and eyes like steel.
"Evelyn," I said, "this is Elias. He served with my grandfather. He was our historian."
She stepped forward.
Elias didn't say a word for a long moment. Just stared at her like he'd seen a ghost.
Then: "You have her eyes."
"Whose?" Evelyn asked.
"Your father's. But you've got your mother's jaw."
"You knew them?"
"I helped deliver you," he said. "The night before the fire."
Evelyn staggered back a step.
"You were born during the blood moon," Elias said. "The last full blood moon this side of the century. You weren't just a child of the line — you were a symbol. A new start."
"I don't feel like a symbol," she said quietly.
"You don't have to feel it. The blood remembers."
⸻
The Awakening
Inside, Elias led us to a narrow room filled with old books and carved stones. Runes were drawn on the floor in chalk, half-faded but still humming with power.
"This is where your father trained," he told Evelyn. "Where he tried to fight what was coming."
"And where Caleb learned to destroy it," I muttered.
Elias nodded grimly. "Yes."
Then he turned to Evelyn. "I need to test something."
"What kind of test?"
He pulled out a dagger. Not steel — something older. Carved bone, etched in runes.
"It won't hurt," he said. "But I need a drop of your blood."
I stepped forward. "Is that necessary?"
Evelyn surprised us both by saying, "It's okay. Do it."
She held out her hand.
Elias gently pricked her palm.
A single drop of blood fell onto the floor… and the moment it touched the chalk runes, they glowed.
Not dimly. Not subtly.
But blazing white-gold light that flared through the room like lightning.
The books rustled. The floor shook.
And Evelyn gasped — clutched her chest — eyes wide.
"I feel—" she choked. "Something's happening—"
She stumbled backward, skin prickling, breath short. Her spine arched. For a terrifying second, I thought she was shifting.
But then… it stopped.
The light vanished.
The room fell still.
And Evelyn stood trembling, her eyes glassy… and glowing faintly gold.
Not fully wolf.
But not fully human either.
"You awakened it," Elias whispered.
⸻
Evelyn
I didn't know what just happened.
My blood felt like it was humming. My fingertips tingled. The forest outside felt closer. Alive.
"I saw something," I whispered. "A vision. A girl… running. Red cloak. Wolves chasing her. A necklace of thorns."
Elias looked stunned.
Lucian stepped forward. "What does that mean?"
"She saw the prophecy," Elias said. "The one your grandfather tried to bury. The one Caleb wants to fulfill… in blood."
I swayed. "What does it say?"
"That the girl born of fire and blood will either end the line of wolves… or save it."
I looked at Lucian. And I finally understood what was coming.
This wasn't just about survival anymore.
It was war.