Page 18

18

CALLUM

I t hits like a punch to the chest knocking the air straight out of me.

I’m halfway through sharpening my blade in the Hollow’s back room when it happens— the shift .

Not mine. Hers .

My spine snaps straight. My hand goes numb, blade slipping from my grip and clattering to the floor. My breath leaves me in a rush.

She’s changing. Not just emotionally. Physically . Not training. Not practice. This is real. And something’s wrong .

I don’t think. I don’t weigh risk or consequence or what the fuck anyone will say if they see me bolt like this. I just move.

Out the side exit, down through the tunnel paths we don’t talk about. My pack bond with the Hollow dulls behind me, muted by instinct. By her .

The bond between us pulls like a fucking tide. Not gentle. Not subtle. It rips .

I strip off my jacket and drop to all fours mid-run, shifting in the dark. Bones crack. Skin splits. Fur erupts across muscle. Pain flashes, white-hot, and then fades as my paws slam into concrete.

And then I’m gone . Running blind, running fast. Faster than I’ve ever moved.

Through back alleys. Over rooftops. Along powerline paths and between warehouses that stink of rust and smog. Her scent is in the air—frayed, wild, sharp with adrenaline and hurt.

I skid to a stop suddenly.

There’s a figure ahead, crouched low, glowing eyes catching the waning moonlight through the crumbling overpass.

Edmund.

He turns before I say a damn word. His face is drawn, more wolf than man. And I know he felt it too.

“She shifted,” I pant, still half in my beast form, voice rasping through fangs. “Didn’t she?”

He nods, tight. “Uncontrolled. It flagged.”

“ Shit. ”

“You felt it.” Not a question.

“I was dragged .”

He doesn’t blink. “We don’t have much time.”

A wind moves through the broken tunnel like a breath warning us of what’s to come.

“Others are coming,” he says. “Not pack. Not PEACE. The other kind.”

My gut twists. “The ones that’ve been looking for her.”

He nods again. Jaw tight.

Then we hear it .

Scrapes against stone. Shuffling. Laughter that doesn’t belong in the air.

Edmund and I move at the same time—low and fast toward the sound. The air is thick with her scent now. And blood.

Then we see her.

Backed against a concrete barrier, panting, eyes glowing that Bolvi gold. Her hands are halfway shifted, her body shaking. Four figures circle her, all lean and twitchy with predatory glee.

Rogues.

Not ours.

Not anyone’s .

I snarl .

I leap without warning, catching the nearest bastard by the ribs and slamming him into the wall. He yells, more in surprise than pain, but it’s enough to scatter the others.

Edmund roars in from the other side, colliding with the tallest one like a meteor.

“ Kendall! ” I bark, turning to her. “ Move! ”

She stares at me like she doesn’t know whether to cry or collapse. But she moves—ducking low, crawling behind a busted support beam as claws rake the concrete behind her.

I catch another attacker mid-lunge, this one smaller but fast. He hisses, slashing at me. I twist and bite , deep into his shoulder until he screams and goes limp.

Edmund takes down the last one in three precise hits—bone, neck, then spine.

It’s quiet again.

Breathing hard, I shift back, bones cracking as I drop beside Kendall.

She’s shaking, covered in dust and blood. But she’s alive.

“Kendall,” I say, softer now.

Her eyes snap to mine.

And the bond—fuck, the bond — surges . It sings . Hot and loud and real .

I reach for her, then stop.

“I’m okay,” she says, voice raw. “I think.”

I nod once, jaw clenched. “They would’ve taken you. Or worse.”

“I didn’t mean to shift,” she whispers. “It just… happened. Then when they came… I couldn’t, I froze.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

Edmund comes over, crouches beside us, gaze sweeping the scene.

“Your shift was strong enough to flag underground. That’s not supposed to happen. You’re too young. Too new.”

“Tell that to my body,” she snaps.

I fight a smirk.

Edmund wipes a hand across his mouth. “I’ll mask the trail. They’ll send more once they realize this crew didn’t report back.”

I look at him. “Where should I take her?”

He meets my eyes, and for a second, I see something almost like trust.

“Somewhere off-grid,” he says. “Somewhere only you know.”

My stomach drops.

Because I do know a place.

A cabin deep in the greenbelt. Old. Half-rotted. No tech. No neighbors. Just trees and silence and survival.

“I’ll take her.”

Edmund nods once, then stands. “Keep her out of sight until I say otherwise. Don’t fuck this up.”

And just like that, he’s gone—back into the dark to clean up a mess no one was supposed to see.

I turn to Kendall, who’s watching me like I’m the only thing keeping her here, coherent.

“You ready to run?” I ask.

She doesn’t speak, just nods and grabs my hand.