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KENDALL

I haven't slept. Not really.

Just closed my eyes and let the storm inside me slow enough to fake stillness. My muscles ache from clenching, my throat’s raw from holding back panic, and I’ve already worn a path into the hardwood pacing.

Adora’s gone. Again. And I know it’s because of me and poking my nose into her business. Because she heard what she wasn’t supposed to. Or maybe because our mother never had the guts to tell her herself. Either way, she vanished after hearing that name. Hell, I wanted to vanish after hearing it.

Wulfson.

She’s fucking Callum’s sister. The one who’s been training me. The one who apparently I am fated to be with. He’s my sister’s half brother. What the fuck.

And now, it’s been twenty-four hours. Then the market explosion hit the news.

Gideon’s Torch.

I watched the footage three times. Smoke. Blood. Screaming.

A public fucking massacre and no real suspects named. But everyone knows. Everyone always knows when it’s Gideon’s Torch. They leave a calling card without ever writing one.

PEACE issued a statement on TV, but they’re scrambling. They're underfunded, overworked, and terrified of their own shadows.

And Adora? She hasn’t called. Texted. Nothing.

My phone buzzes in my hand making me jump as I try to keep my eyes down and search the streets at the same time.I see the name and answer before the first ring finishes.

“Adora?!”

Her voice is sharp. Grounded. Too calm. “Meet me.”

“Where?”

“You know the place.”

“Adora—”

“Bring your gear.”

She hangs up.

My heart kicks into overdrive as I head to the training area in the woods. The place where Dad took me to shift. The place I told Adora about before she met Callum. That has to be the place she meant.

The clearing feels different today.

The air hums. Buzzes. Like the dirt itself is holding its breath.

Adora steps out from the trees. And with her, Callum.

I breathe a sigh of relief, realizing she’s been safe the whole time, but then I really look at Adora.

She doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t offer a hello. Just drops her bag beside a rock and starts stretching like she’s gearing up for war.

She looks… different.

Not in the way someone looks after a haircut or new clothes. No—this is something under her skin. Her body’s leaner than mine, but not in that delicate way it used to be. She’s all taut muscle and coiled tension now. Her ashy blonde hair, usually straight and neat, hangs in windswept strands, half-matted, like she’s been running through forests or storms and didn’t bother to stop. Her hazel eyes, once soft and warm, flicker with flecks of gold when the sunlight hits them just right.

But there’s no warmth in them now. Just sharpness.

Something wild.

She doesn’t meet my gaze for long, but when she does—it’s like staring into a reflection warped by fire. Familiar, but not.

I swallow hard and try to push down the tightness crawling up my chest.

I know that look. It’s the same one I’ve seen in animals backed into a corner. Not afraid. Not angry. Something worse.

Free.

Untethered.

Broken in a way that makes it easier to fight than to feel.

And when she moves, it’s not with that dancer’s grace I used to envy. Now, every step is predatory. Her joints move smoother, like the bones inside her are no longer human. Like her body doesn’t second-guess itself anymore. I remember her stumbling in gym class once, nearly eating shit over a jump rope. She laughed so hard she cried.

This version of her doesn’t laugh.

When she drops her bag and starts stretching, I catch the way her fingers twitch, like she’s itching to unleash something. Her limbs extend farther, her balance shifts lower, more animal than athlete. Her back is straighter, but her shoulders never fully relax.

There’s a charge to her.

A pulse I can’t match.

“So, can I assume we all have the same knowledge now?” Callum asks as I try to pull my eyes away from what I think is my sister.

“About our bloodlines?” I question, wanting to not assume anything.

“Yes. Adora told me what she overheard and I think you two would benefit from training together, especially given the recent events and how much more… compromised the situation for you both may be.”

Adora steps forward. “I told him mom isn’t human but won’t tell us what she is. He already suspected as much given the heightened intensity of our… state.”

“We all need to be ready, you two most of all. Since Adora won’t see Edmund, this is the only way. Especially since I can help with the shifter aspect and especially the combat.” Callum sounds more like a man of war, the one I met in the tunnel for our first session. He means business and now isn’t the time to question him. About Adora, his father, or anything. It’s a time to train.

“You sure you’re ready?” I ask.

Her grin slices across her face. It’s too sharp. All teeth and confidence she didn’t earn the slow way.

“Are you?”

And there it is.

The edge.

I used to tease her about being too soft, too trusting. But now? I don’t recognize the girl in front of me. There’s something burning behind her eyes. Something darker than anything Edmund or our mother ever warned us about.

I don’t think Adora’s scared.

But I am.

When Callum calls for rounds, Adora lunges.

No hesitation. No warm-up. Just motion and impact. Her first punch is fast—too fast. I barely dodge, and the heat in her knuckles grazes my cheek like she’s burning from the inside out.

“You trying to break my nose?” I snap.

She doesn’t apologize. Doesn’t even slow down.

Her voice is smug. “Can’t help it if you’re slow.”

That’s when I know it.

She’s angry.

Not just at me. At everything.

And it’s buried so deep it’s started to rot.

Rot that glows under her skin, that hums in her veins, that shifts her stance and clenches her jaw like she’s holding something back—barely. Her strikes are sharper, more confident than before. But they’re not controlled. They’re fueled by something reckless.

Something unhinged.

“You okay?” I pant between blocks, ducking a roundhouse I didn’t see coming.

“I’m perfect,” she hisses. But her eyes, those burning hazel-gold eyes—say otherwise.

There’s pain there.

Betrayal.

Her mother lied. Dad lied. Her whole life is a patchwork of secrets, and now she’s finding out she’s the daughter of a man she never met and half-sister to a guy she might’ve felt something for. Hell, I would’ve snapped, too.

But Adora’s not snapping.

She’s unraveling and she’s loving it.

When Callum steps in to rotate partners, Adora doesn’t yield. She doesn’t blink. She keeps attacking. Not like she’s training.

Like she’s hunting.

He manages to block, then pin her wrist with a grunt. “Ease up.”

She jerks free with a sneer. “Don’t hold back.”

“I’m not?—”

“Then fucking hit me!”

Her voice cracks at the end—not with weakness, but with fury. She’s daring him. Daring all of us to push her harder. Maybe because pain is the only thing she can feel anymore.

I step forward, chest heaving. “Adora, what are you doing?”

She turns to me slowly. Her breathing’s erratic. Her face flushed. Her smile—crooked and cruel.

“I’m finally feeling it, Kendall,” she growls. “For the first time in my life, I know what I am. What I can do.”

“And what’s that?” I ask. “Destroy yourself?”

“Don’t be jealous.”

That one hits like a slap.

“I’m not,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m scared.”

She doesn’t hear me. Or maybe she does and doesn’t care.

“You always needed someone to follow,” she says. “Dad. Callum. Me. But I don’t need anyone. Not anymore. Not now that I know who I really am.”

My throat tightens.

“You don’t even know what that means yet.”

“I know enough,” she spits.

Callum steps between us. His presence is grounding, but not enough.

“Enough,” he says, voice firm.

“I’m not done,” she snaps.

“You are,” he says again, slower this time. It’s not a request.

She glares at him. Then at me.

She storms off—shoulders tight, jaw clenched, hands still trembling.

I don’t follow.

Because I know the look in her eyes. That wasn’t just rage. That was grief she hasn’t named yet. That was heartbreak she doesn’t know how to hold.

That was someone who’s been lied to her whole life and finally, finally feels powerful enough to burn everything down just to build something new.

But she doesn’t see that she’s burning herself, too.

I sink to the ground, fingers buzzing from the power I barely controlled. The glow in my veins hasn’t faded. Neither has the chill in my chest.

Something’s coming.

I’m not sure which one of us it’s going to take first.