Outside, beneath a glaring moon, I kneel in the dirt and watch as the Weaver marks Trinity’s forehead with a dot of blood. Her chest rises and falls even more rapidly as her blooding gets closer and closer. Snarls, bellows, and cries fill the air all around me from the females who’ve been marked and bitten already. Each of them is now experiencing the bond, their bodies taking on a spirit and working to adapt and make room while they transform into so much more than they were before.

Becoming what they were always meant to be.

The Weaver growls something, but it’s unintelligible because his face is half-shifted. His eyes are his own, but his mouth is more wolf than man. Trinity offers her arm to him, and I can see the tremble in it from where I am about four feet away. Burke is to my left, his arrogant and vile presence a constant reminder that there’s nowhere to run.

Maybe I should have left Hess to his fate, but that thought curdles my stomach, even though the spirits know he was going to do the same to me. A part of me wishes I could be that cold-hearted. My life might’ve been easier if I thought and behaved like Burke, but I don’t know how to turn my conscience off. Now I’m here, counting down the seconds until I’m a slave to my alpha, and he’ll probably kill Hess anyway.

How could I be so stupid? I should have run before, but I thought I had time. I thought I could get away. Yet now I’m on my knees, trapped, exactly where Burke wants me. Waiting to become another she-wolf for him to dominate, a bitch for him to claim.

The Weaver takes Trinity’s hand, and in a move so fast it would be startling if I hadn’t seen him do it over and over again tonight, he bites her forearm. She flinches, face gone pale as his wolf mouth releases her flesh. Gnarled fingers curl as he cups his hand under the wound he made, collecting some of the blood now flowing freely from it. When he catches enough in his palm, he moves over to the fire and throws it into the flames with a growl.

Trinity sucks in a breath, and I watch as the blaze from the inferno flickers from orange to blue. Sparks dart out from the middle of the flames as though a sharp wind has sent them flying, and then that same rushing wind and fiery particles seem to swoop right for her.

Trinity’s eyes grow wide with fear, but behind the fear is a gleam of excitement. The invisible force still carrying the glimmering sparks from the fire hits her square in the chest, and she gasps, closing her eyes against everything that slams into her. She falls backward writhing, and my heart races as I watch the physical and spiritual struggle going on.

However, my attention is pulled away from what’s happening to her, because the Weaver steps in front of me. My heart leaps into my throat.

This is it.

I look up at him, his bright blue eyes surveying me, taking my measure. I wish I knew what he was seeing. Is it a failure? Does he see a female who tried to save herself but couldn’t? Does he see a coward who’s swallowed her fight and traded her tenacity for the illusion of safety?

I think he smiles at me, but it’s difficult to tell with his mouth in the state that it is. I’ve seen others in the pack in a partial shift, and it always looks so painful, but it doesn’t seem like this hurts the Spirit Weaver, or maybe he’s used to it. He must’ve performed this ritual hundreds of times in his life.

He dips a finger into the bowl of deer blood and then starts to draw symbols on me. First, he marks lines down my arms, then taps my collarbone before parting the robe slightly and tugging down my shirt collar so he can paint blood on my chest. He speaks in that way that sounds more like growls and yips, and my entire body goes tight with tension, my skin tingling every place the blood touches.

My eyes flick to where Burke stands just off to the side with his arms crossed in front of him. I recoil at the hungry look on his face, at the way his gaze burns into the marks on my chest. When I feel a finger press against my forehead, my eyes shoot back to the Weaver as he holds his touch there, his throat working with a nearly silent wolfish rumble.

The blood is cold everywhere at first, but it seems that with each added stroke and swirl of the Weaver’s design, the symbols begin to warm. By the time he draws another line down my throat, I feel like I’m glowing. Panic slams through me at the sensation. I feel like a beacon, and in my vulnerable state, it terrifies me.

I want nothing more than to turn off the light I sense radiating out of me. It’s like my life is being ripped away, and with it goes my hope and the few shreds of happiness I’m desperately trying to hold on to. At the same time, I can’t fight the curiosity coursing through me. I can’t ignore the exhilaration I feel. I’ve waited so long for this. Celebrated and anticipated it, wished for it to be my turn every time I watched a Flux. I’ve been looking forward to it my whole life, and now it’s here.

But this isn’t how it was supposed to be.

It wasn’t supposed to ruin me. I wish my mom were here. I wish I could welcome this spirit the way my animal deserves, and not hate her for what her presence will do to me. Receiving my wolf spirit is supposed to make me complete, but because of it, I’m going to be less. I’m going to be treated no better than a whipped dog, bred and dominated for Burke’s pleasure.

I flinch at a clawed tap on my arm just as my alpha growls, the sound more excited than threatening, and I realize that the Weaver is waiting for me to extend my arm. It’s time to be blooded. It’s time to be owned. Dread spreads inside of me like a wildfire through dry terrain.

Hesitantly, I lift my arm, prepared for the bite that will quickly morph into a shackle, tethering me to this life whether I like it or not. I just hope my wolf accepts me after my near abandonment. I wonder if she knows, if she senses what I tried to do.

Before the Weaver grips my arm, Burke steps in front of me. “I’ll be blooding this one,” he announces, and the Weaver looks from him to me and back again, his heavy white eyebrows dipped with consternation. At the tense pause, Burke snarls, “Is that going to be a problem, Yaromir?”

My heart slams in my chest, and I want to shout out, don’t let him touch me, but all I can picture is Hess’s beaten and bloody face, and the words shrivel on my tongue. Eyes wide, I latch onto the Spirit Weaver like he’s my only lifeline, hoping he won’t let this happen.

Yaromir stares at me for a moment, then looks over at the alpha. I follow his gaze, hoping he will protect me, but Burke stares at the Spirit Weaver with eyes that scorch with warning. The Spirit Weaver doesn’t speak a word, but after an edgy moment, he gets to his feet and steps back, conceding to the alpha’s request. I look to Yaromir as though he’s betrayed me, but he avoids my gaze and moves on to the next host.

Burke steps forward and grips my chin, tilting my head up until my angry eyes are fixed on his. A salacious smile spreads across his face, and then I hear his jaw crack and pop as it begins to morph into the muzzle of his pitch-black wolf.

I try to yank my arm away, but his grip is too tight. This is wrong. He shouldn’t be allowed to do this, to mark me like this. The Flux is supposed to be sacred, the blooding done by the Spirit Weaver. My whole life is going to be tainted by this piece of shit, and now he’s going to be allowed to tarnish this too. I pull harder, growling with desperate fury as I try to get away, but before I can so much as push to my feet, Burke pitches forward and sinks his teeth into the meat of my forearm.

Pain explodes through me.

His bite is cruel and vicious, sinking in far deeper than the Weaver would’ve. My mouth opens in shock, but I fight not to let out the cry that bubbles up my throat. Black eyes stare down at me, shining with arousal and promises of pain.

My stomach rolls from the contact, from the violation, and I fight the light-headedness that hits me and muddles my mind. Burke stays there, fangs sunk into the tender flesh of my forearm, tongue slathering against my bleeding skin, and I just want him to get the fuck off me.

The Spirit Weaver suddenly steps in, practically shoving Burke out of the way. As soon as my alpha’s teeth pull out, blood gushes from the holes in my arm. With a deep frown between his brows, Weaver Yaromir cups his hands below my arm, collecting my blood to complete the ritual. I watch him catch the scarlet liquid spilling down, my senses feeling fuzzy and slow. When he has enough, he straightens up and heads to the fire while Burke licks crimson from his lips mockingly, a vindictive streak spilling from his inky gaze.

Heart pounding, I watch everything happening like it’s a movie skipping, the film sputtering over the reel, everything feeling disjointed and choppy. The Weaver moves to the fire, hands holding an integral part of me, and then he tosses that part straight into the flames, my blood offering complete.

One second, the pyre is burning in oranges and yellows, but then, it explodes into a blaze of effervescent violet, shifter magic thick in the air. The heat coming off of the fire magnifies, growing so hot that sweat beads against my brow. The Spirit Weaver and surrounding pack are forced to step back from the blistering intensity as it crackles and smokes. I try to shield my eyes from the brightness, but my body doesn’t seem to be working right.

And then, a shadow appears.

Right there, in the middle of all that burning color, a form coalesces. I blink, squinting as a massive dark gray wolf steps out of the flames. My breath stops. My heart does too. With glowing violet eyes locked onto me, their depths soaking me in, she begins to walk forward, and I recognize her immediately.

She’s mine.

I can’t move as she closes the distance between us. I feel every step through the ground as I stand, and it’s as though my body is moving of its own volition, bare feet sinking into the dirt. I hold my breath when she stops in front of me, unsure of what to expect. We stare at each other, and a quiet tranquility fills the air between us.

I let out a shaky breath as I take in this beautiful creature. Her fur is the color of steel and ash, her body almost as tall as I am standing up. She lets my gaze sweep over her form, and when my eyes come back to her violet ones, she lowers her head to mine. Instinctually, I press my forehead against hers, feeling the solidness of who and what she is, her soft fur against my fevered skin like a balm to my soul.

We stay like that for a beat, just breathing each other in. My eyes flutter closed as her scent surrounds me, seeming so familiar. Like I’ve scented her spirit in the air my entire life without knowing it. I feel her. Recognize her in a way I can’t quite explain. She feels like me and yet…not. There’s a primal wildness to her presence, a strength and well of potent power that charges my every nerve. We’re pieces of a whole who finally fit together, and for the first time in a long time, peace washes over me.

Instinct takes over, and I open my arms and tip my head back, inviting her blessing into my body. Without hesitation, she leaps into me, and the force is so strong that I fall back, my body hitting the ground hard.

The world around me disappears in a clap of thunder that only I can hear. I’m lost to the crash of sensations suddenly erupting through me. Pain. Serenity. Disarray. Battle. Movement.

My thoughts and body are a mess of primal needs and innate understanding. My insides feel too small, and it’s as though the seams of who I am are bursting, ripping apart to make room for her. I ache as I adjust to the fullness of our souls, and her spirit burns through me, melding us together in a way that can never be severed. It’s humbling, empowering, and so much more than I ever knew it could be.

I am hers.

She is mine.

And we are one.

I want to throw my head back and howl with happiness, to shed the confines of my skin and feel the world through our wolf body. It’s time for us to run together, to bond in every possible way that we can, but…something holds us back.

Something is wrong.

I’m stuck inside the merging, unable to use my body, while she’s unable to use hers. A prickling sensation thrashes through us, so we reach out with our other senses, past our paralyzed form. The smells of the woods surround us, which should be a good thing, yet for some reason, alarm pumps through our veins. Something sickly sweet with an undertone of rot clings to our nose, making us agitated, like the scent of fruit on the cusp of going bad.

My wolf and I are stuck in some weird state of limbo, where we need to choose who takes control. And although I can’t move, I have the strangest impression that I’m being carried. I don’t know if that’s just the sensation of the wolf taking over, but that doesn’t seem right. I know she needs to run, that we need to shift and solidify our joining, but when I encourage her to do just that, she answers by shoving herself at me hard, almost combative like she wants to fight me.

Her mind feels like a mess of panic as it meshes with mine. I’m lost to all the confusing images, smells, and sensations. Wet ground presses against my back, and for some reason, the distinct feel of it stokes complete rage in my wolf. She slams against me again, ripping us away from this beautiful spiritual exchange, and ramming us brutally back to reality.

I come to as though I’m breaching the surface of a still lake. One second, everything is blurry and muffled, and then the next, I come up gasping from a daze as the world around me slams back into focus.

A snarl is already building in my chest as I get my bearings. I’m no longer in front of the fire as the pack watches me receive my wolf spirit. Somehow, I’m deep in the forest, lying on the damp floor, the cold and wet seeping into my clothing and leeching me of all warmth.

I feel a tug at my feet, and horror rockets through me as I look down and find Burke pulling my jeans off. Inside of me, my wolf snarls again, and I immediately skitter back away from him. My hands and legs rush to put as much distance between us as they can. Burke’s head snaps up, and the smile he gives me makes my skin crawl.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I demand, feeling disoriented, adrenaline pumping through my veins and making the world tip and teeter.

Sticks and rocks dig into the bare skin of my legs as I move. I look down, realizing that my ceremonial robe is gone and my shirt has been ripped open from the front, exposing my bra. I pull the two pieces of fabric back together and try to scramble to my feet, but Burke is on me in a flash.

One moment, he’s feet away from me, tossing my pants into a bush, and the next, he’s pinning me down. I try to scream, but his massive hand slams over my mouth, trapping my call for help as I’m held against the wet earth. Terrified and driven by raw panic, I struggle, flailing and kicking, trying to get him off of me.

“Fight me, Seneca,” he growls in my ear, grinding against me as I try to get out from underneath him.

I feel his hardness dig into my stomach like the threat it’s meant to be, and I hate the whimper of fear that’s smothered by the hand he has pressed bruisingly against my mouth.

“Fight me until you realize that you’re not going to win,” he grunts, shoving his knee roughly between my thighs.

I twist my body to keep him from angling my legs apart and scream against his hand. His evil eyes light up with excitement at the muffled noise before he licks up my neck and nips at my jaw. I battle and try to get him off of me, but he’s too big, too heavy, too powerful.

Anger and fear war inside my body. He couldn’t even let me settle. Couldn’t even let me enjoy the sacred moment of joining with my wolf before he pounced.

Hate consumes me.

“You thought you could run from me, that I wouldn’t hunt you down and take what’s mine. Don’t you get it by now? I own you. I’ve owned your sweet little cunt since the minute I strolled into this pack. I’ve waited patiently, put up with your bitch of a mother long enough, but I will not be denied a second longer. You are mine, Seneca Rain. You always have been, and now I’m going to make sure you always will be.”

He leans down and nips hard at my breast, making me jolt. His canines start to elongate, and I know this is a prequel to the claiming bite he’s about to give me against my will. I whimper against the uninvited touch and try to wiggle out from under him, but he just moans, like my every movement is turning him on more, like it’s going to get him off.

No.

The word snarls through me, more animal than human.

My vision bleeds red, and I can feel the wolf in me pushing to take over. I try to stop her from gaining control, terrified that if she does, Burke will call his own wolf and I’ll be forced to submit. I get one of my arms free from his hold and drag my nails down his face. I try to shove my fingers into his eyes, but he bellows in pain and turns his head, keeping me from doing the kind of damage I want.

Pain explodes in my cheek when he cocks back a fist and punches me. A ringing starts in my ear, and I’m momentarily stunned by the hit. Burke takes advantage by tearing off my underwear, but my lapse in conscious control also lets my wolf surge to the forefront. I scream as she fights her way through, clawing at my mind, my body, my spirit. My vision fractures when Burke forces my thighs apart, the colors around me becoming muted while the detail of everything sharpens.

Fingers dig into my flesh, trying to take what doesn’t belong to them, and all at once, I rip apart. All control is fully relinquished in a split second that seems to split me. Agony is all I know as my bones splinter and my skin stretches, fur erupting over my body as sharp teeth punch through my gums.

A fury-filled snarl explodes out of my throat, and in a flash, clawed paws are raking against him. Strong limbs shove him away as I shift into my wolf, and she starts fighting tooth and claw. Burke falls backward from her sudden appearance, and my wolf lunges, snapping at him, sinking sharp teeth into the arm he raises to keep her from catching him in the throat. He might be bigger than us, but my wolf is savage.

“You fucking bitch!” he screams, but my wolf doesn’t back off. Instead, she bears down, shaking her head hard as she tries to rip his arm from his body. She tosses the bastard around like a fucking rag doll, but then there’s the sound of his splintering bones as he calls on his wolf and starts to shift.

Fear strikes through me as I wait for my wolf to react to his, but she’s too busy mauling him to care. Blood coats my beast’s tongue, and the taste spurs her on. She abandons her hold on his arm mid-shift and flings herself at him, but he pivots just enough that she tears into his shoulder instead of his face. Fur explodes through his skin, and Burke’s yelling morphs into a deep, vicious growl as he completes his transformation.

As soon as his hands turn into paws, my wolf surges for his neck, shoving the massive black wolf onto its back with immense strength. I’m shocked that she doesn’t submit to him, even though we can feel him try to push at us with alpha power. Burke yelps, but there’s no hesitation, no submission, not even any mercy from her. She wants to rip his throat out and shred his body, and I can see the surprise flash through his wolf.

Teeth sink into my foreleg, making pain shoot through me as Burke thrashes underneath me. A menacing growl rips from my wolf’s throat as she snaps at his face, swiping at him with her front paws at the same time. Then it becomes a blur of fangs, fur, and fury as the wolves bite and tear into one another. Burke keeps trying to force me to submit, snarling at me and trying to put me on my back, but my wolf is not fucking having it.

It’s as though she’s lost to the bloodlust, broken with her need to destroy this male wolf and anyone else who would think to harm us. Her furor is a sight to behold, a visceral feeling pumping through our veins. It makes me feel both unhinged and unstoppable. It doesn’t matter what injuries Burke inflicts, my wolf isn’t stopping until the ground is bathed in his blood and his throat’s been torn open, his life crushed between her teeth.

Together, we are not timid. We are not submissive. We are not omega. And we will not let him claim us.

My wolf surges with a strength that matches Burke’s, flooding our spirits with vicious enmity. He will take his last breath with us standing victoriously over his body, and then he’ll know he should have never fucked with me.

Burke tries to throw my wolf off-balance, but she clamps onto his ear for his efforts. He yelps and yanks his head away, leaving part of his ear in her mouth. She spits it out, just as he raises his head and lets out a deafening howl.

Outrage courses through us. My wolf is furious by this weak alpha’s call for help, at his inability to face her, and then even more disgusted when Burke tries to turn away and run.

Fucking coward.

She pounces on him, clamping onto the back of his neck in an unforgiving bite. Her hind paws do their best to shred the skin and muscle of his back, loin, and flanks, while her forepaws dig into his shoulders and withers. When he yelps, she sinks her teeth deeper and deeper into his neck. It’s not a killing bite, but it’s a good hold, and he’s tiring. The sharp scent of fear has entered these woods, and it doesn’t belong to us.

But before she can maneuver into a killing blow, the distinct sound of our pack members on both paws and feet are rushing our way. My wolf snarls and shakes Burke by the back of the neck, and he growls, trying to throw us off of him. It doesn’t work. Wrath pumps through our veins, and my wolf is pissed that dishonorable mongrels are running to stop a fight their alpha started. Where the hell were they when this piece of shit dragged me off and tried to rape me?

I know I’ll be outnumbered soon, and maybe a normal wolf would run, but my wolf doesn’t feel normal, and she has no intention of giving up this fight.

Burke rolls us into a tree, and even though it hurts her, she refuses to let go. It’s like the pain parts of her mind are shut off, because all she can focus on is the kill. Wolves howl in the distance, closing in on us, and she tries to muscle Burke into a better position so she can kill him before they arrive. He fights her, but inch by inch, she’s getting closer to the upper hand, and the whimper he releases says he knows it.

Need for his blood surges through us as she gets closer to that sweet spot of his throat. But there’s an odd pop that echoes around the forest all around us, and then something pierces my flank. She ignores the stinging sensation, keeping her focus on Burke’s wolf as paws run for us. She lets out a snarl with a mouthful of fur, muscles tensing in preparation to be attacked, just as another wolf hurtles into view.

The mongrel is smaller than Burke’s animal with a light gray coat and hints of red around his muzzle. Recognition fires through me, and my wolf releases Burke’s throat at the last second as Seamus barrels into her. She turns and sinks her canines into his shoulder, forcing him back into a tree, overpowering him so easily that it sends a shockwave through me.

He throws his head back to yelp in pain, and she pounces on the opportunity. Salty blood tries to drown me as she tears into him. Seamus doesn’t even have time to yip and squeal in pain before she rips the front of his throat from his body.

Just like that, he’s dead.

She drops the meat of his neck and then picks up his body, tossing it away like the garbage it is. She turns to find Burke again. He’s hurt and unmoving, but the second she takes a step, she stumbles. My beast’s body is suddenly heavy and uncoordinated, and she shakes her head to clear the daze filling our vision while trying to stay upright. In my head, I know that someone shot us. I can feel the tranquilizer coursing through our adrenaline-fueled veins, but we’re only focused on the threats.

Shadowy figures surround us, and my wolf bares her teeth in a livid growl. She leaps at one of them, teeth sinking into skin with no fur. The man screams, but we’re hit from the side by a different pack monster in fur. We go down, but when my beast tries to get up, her legs no longer work. She rages, growling and snapping at anything that gets too close.

A completely feral sensation overtakes us, tainted with helplessness. No one tries to get close as the man and wolf scramble away. Everyone just stands around like weaklings with their tails tucked between their legs as they wait for the drugs they darted us with to render us unconscious.

My wolf and I try to fight it, but our vision tunnels and everything inside of us goes numb. We bite back a whimper that wants to escape, refusing to show any sign of weakness, even though fear spikes in us. I don’t know if we’ll wake up or if they’ll kill us in our forced sleep, but I feel sick satisfaction that she at least took one of them with us and fucked up Burke.

My vision splinters, everything around me doubling. My wolf and I both look out at the pack that failed us, at the alpha somewhere in the shadows who betrayed us.

And then, everything around us blurs and blinks to nothing.