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The twice-blessed child,it hissed, its voice like broken glass in my mind.You are ours. You have always been ours.

“He is MINE,” Mom snarled, and suddenly she wasn’t just my quiet, hardworking mother anymore. Golden light erupted from her hands, forming symbols I didn’t recognize but somehow understood were protective in nature. “You will not have him.”

The mist laughed—a sound that made my stomach turn—and surged forward again, this time toward me directly. I tried to summon the fire again, but it sputtered and died, my untrained power already exhausted.

“Run, Kai!” Mom shouted, throwing herself between me and the mist. “To the stones! Find the wolves!”

“I won’t leave you!” I cried, but she pushed me away with surprising strength.

“GO!”

I ran, tears blurring my vision, the sounds of battle fading behind me. The forest was a maze of shadows and moonlight, branches tearing at my clothes, roots threatening to trip me with every step. My mother’s last words echoed in my mind: “Run, baby. Don’t look back.”

But I wasn’t alone in the forest.

“There he is!” a young voice called out—cultured, aristocratic, excited. “Father will be pleased.”

I glanced back to see three figures pursuing me—teenage boys with pale hair that gleamed silver in the moonlight. The oldest couldn’t have been more than twenty, but there was something predatory in the way they moved, something not quite human in their glowing eyes.

“Come now, little one,” the middle brother called, his voice a strange mix of coaxing and threatening. “We just want to take you home.”

“This isn’t necessary,” the youngest added, sounding almost reasonable. “Our father simply wishes to… discuss your future.”

I didn’t know who they were, but instinct told me to keep running. The Stone property had to be close—Mom had always said if we were ever separated, I should head for the Stone Manor. “They’ll protect you,” she’d insisted, though she never explained why.

“I do love when they run,” the oldest brother said, his voice carrying through the trees. “Makes the claiming so much more… satisfying.”

I pushed myself harder, lungs burning, the strange heat in my veins growing with my fear. Something was happening to me, something I didn’t understand. My hands tingled, then burned, and when I glanced down, I saw flickers of silver-blue light dancing across my fingertips.

“He’s manifesting!” the youngest brother shouted, sounding alarmed now. “Father didn’t say anything about?—”

“Doesn’t matter,” the oldest cut him off. “Just grab him before?—”

The forest ahead of me suddenly darkened, the moonlight swallowed by something that wasn’t quite shadow, wasn’t quite mist. It seeped between the trees like living blood, tendrils reaching toward me with hungry purpose.

I skidded to a halt, caught between the pursuing brothers and this new threat. The crimson mist surged forward, faster than seemed possible, and I felt it before I saw it—cold so intense it burned, wrapping around my ankle like a vise.

Pain exploded up my leg, and I screamed, falling to my knees. The silver-blue light at my fingertips flared in response, instinctively lashing out at the mist. Where it touched, the crimson retreated, a high keening sound filling the air.

“What is that?” the middle brother demanded, his earlier confidence replaced by something that sounded almost like fear.

The mist reformed, gathering itself into a shape that was almost human, with too many limbs and a face made of dozens of agonized expressions.

The child is ours,it hissed, its voice like broken glass in my mind.You will not interfere, wolf-spawn.

The Blackwood brothers shifted in perfect unison. Despite their youth, they moved with the deadly grace of their aristocratic bloodline, attacking the crimson mist with fangs and claws.

But their attacks passed through it like smoke, and where the mist touched them, frost formed on their fur. Their coordinated strikes, perfect from years of training, meant nothing against this otherworldly threat.

Your blood is weak,the mist seemed to whisper, its voice like shards of ice in our minds.But your rage… your violence… that we can use.

The mist’s tendrils wrapped tighter around me, using me as bait while it taunted the young wolves. My silver-blue light flickered weakly, trying to fight back, but exhaustion was winning.

Then three new howls split the night—deeper, more powerful. The Stone brothers burst through the trees, their massive forms dwarfing the Blackwood wolves despite their own youth. Where the Blackwoods were aristocratic precision, the Stones were raw power, moving together with the perfect synchronization of true pack bonds.

The mist writhed with pleasure.Yes… FIGHT.

What followed was chaos. The wolves clashed in a fury of fangs and claws, their forms crashing through the underbrush. The Blackwoods fought with all their trained skill, but the Stone brothers were simply stronger, their attacks devastating in their coordinated fury.