(Luna) “Say goodbye?” My voice comes out cracked and furious in equal measure, and I push myself up off the kitchen floor even though every muscle in my body screams at me not to.
Jace’s hand is still locked around mine, and I use it to pull myself upright, my legs shaking under me.
“Goodbye to what?
Somebody better start explaining what is happening right now.” The air shifts before I hear him.
A pressure change, subtle and wrong, like the kitchen has forgotten how to hold its own atmosphere.
The mark on my forehead flares hot, a pulse of heat that has nothing to do with fever, and my whole body goes rigid with an awareness I can’t name, some ancient instinct clawing up from beneath my skin and screaming *wolf, wolf, wolf* before my mind can even catch up.
I turn toward the doorway already knowing what I’ll find.
Orion stands there, unmoving, watching me with those strange gold-touched eyes, patient in a way that makes my skin crawl.
“You’re a wolf shifter, Luna.” He says it plainly, like it’s a fact as ordinary as the color of the sky.
“Your body is Awakening.
What you’re feeling, the fever, the strength, the mark, that’s not a sickness.
That’s what you are, finally coming to the surface.” “A wolf shifter.” I laugh, short and disbelieving, because it’s easier than believing him.
“You’re insane.
I’m not a.” “Luna.” Nana Mae’s voice is soft, and when I look at her, really look at her, the truth is written all over her face.
Not shock.
Not confusion.
Just old grief, finally set down after years of carrying it alone.
“You knew.” The words come out of me sharp enough to cut.
“Nana.
You knew about this?” “I knew,” she whispers.
“Baby, I’ve known since before you were born.” The betrayal lands worse than the fever did.
Worse than the fire that carved itself into my forehead an hour ago.
I stare at the woman who raised me, who packed my lunches and drove me to track meets and sat up with me through every fever I ever had as a kid, and I feel something in my chest crack right down the middle.
“How could you not tell me?” “I wanted to protect you.” Tears track down her face, but she doesn’t look away from me, doesn’t flinch from what she’s earned.
“I thought if I never said the words out loud, maybe it would never come true.
I know now that was foolish.
I know I should have prepared you better.
I’m so sorry, Luna.” I don’t have anything to say to that.
Not yet.
The anger is still too big, too fresh, and it’s easier to turn it toward the stranger standing in my grandmother’s doorway than toward the woman who raised me.
“And you.” I round on Orion.
“Who exactly are you supposed to be?” “My name is Orion.” He steps further into the kitchen, and Jace’s grip on my hand tightens instantly, his whole body angling itself in front of mine again.
Orion’s gaze flicks to him, something almost like amusement in it, though it doesn’t reach the rest of his face.
“I’m a Hunter.
It’s my gift to sense new Awakenings before they happen, and to guide the ones who survive to a place where they can learn to control what they’re becoming.” “Survive.” The word snags in my throat.
“Yes.” He doesn’t soften it.
“Not every wolf who Awakens does.
Without guidance, the body can’t hold this much power.
It burns through you from the inside until there’s nothing left.” Jace’s hand goes rigid around mine.
“You’re saying she could die.” “I’m saying she will, if she stays here.” Orion’s eyes hold mine, steady and unblinking.
“You need proof.
I understand that.
Humans always do.” He reaches up and pulls the collar of his shirt aside, just enough to show the curve of his shoulder, and there it is, a mark I’ve never seen before, burned into his skin like it grew there instead of being placed.
Two crescents flanking a full moon in the center, the whole thing filled in violet so faded it’s nearly silver, like something ancient that’s had a thousand years to wear itself thin.
“This is the mark every wolf carries when they Awaken,” he says quietly.
“On males, it sits here, the shoulder.
On females, the inner wrist.” “Mine isn’t like that,” I whisper, my fingers rising without permission to touch my own forehead, still tender under my fingertips.
“No.” Something shifts in his expression, careful now, almost wary.
“Yours isn’t like that at all.” Before I can ask what that means, his eyes change.
It happens fast, faster than I can track, gold bleeding into his irises until there’s no human left in them at all, just wolf, bright and ancient and watching.
His fingers curl and lengthen at the same time, nails darkening and sharpening into claws that catch the kitchen light.
I stumble back a step, my heart slamming against my ribs, and beside me Jace goes pale as a sheet, but he doesn’t run either.
He plants his feet like he’s daring the whole situation to make him.
“It’s alright.” Orion’s voice stays even despite the wolf gold in his eyes, despite the claws still resting loose and terrible at his sides.
“This is only a partial shift.
I won’t hurt either of you.” Terror and something else, something curious and electric, twist together in my chest as I stare at him.
This is real.
Actually, impossibly real.
Whatever fear I’m feeling, there’s a matching pull underneath it, some part of me that recognizes what I’m looking at, like my body already knows this world even if my mind is still catching up.
“You have to come with me, Luna.” His claws recede as quickly as they appeared, eyes fading back to their normal dark brown, and the ordinary shape of him settles back into place like a coat pulled back on.
“There’s an Academy.
Hollowcrest.
It’s where wolves like you learn to survive what’s happening to their bodies.
Without proper training, the Awakening will kill you within days.” “Days.” I look at Nana Mae, at Jace, at this stranger standing in my grandmother’s kitchen telling me my whole life is about to end one way or another.
“I can’t just leave.
My whole life is here.” “Your life will end here if you stay.” Orion’s voice doesn’t rise, doesn’t push, but there’s no room for argument buried underneath the calm of it either.
“I’m sorry.
I know this isn’t a choice you wanted to make.
It isn’t much of a choice at all.” “She’s not going anywhere without me knowing where,” Jace says, sharp and immediate.
“You expect me to just let her walk out that door with you?” “You should say your goodbyes.” Orion’s gaze flickers toward the door, toward some invisible clock only he can hear ticking down.
“I’ll wait outside.
Take what time you have.” He steps back out into the dark, and the moment the door falls shut behind him, the kitchen goes painfully quiet.
Nana Mae crosses the space between us and pulls me into her arms, and I let her, all the anger from a few minutes ago draining out of me at the feel of her, small and shaking against my chest.
She smells like flour and lavender, the same as she always has, the same as every hug she’s given me since I was a little girl.
“Your mama told me this day would come,” she whispers against my hair, her voice breaking on every other word.
“I just hoped it wouldn’t.
I hoped so hard, baby.
I hoped you’d get to stay a girl who runs track and steals fries and worries about boring things like prom and college essays.
I wanted that for you so bad.” “Nana.” My own voice breaks now too, all the anger gone, nothing left but grief and fear tangled together so tight I can’t tell them apart.
“I don’t want to go.” “I know.” She pulls back just enough to hold my face in both her hands, thumbs brushing over the mark still tender on my forehead like she’s trying to memorize the shape of it.
“But you have to.
And I need you to know, whatever happens out there, whatever you become, you are still my girl.
You hear me?
Still mine.” I nod, because I can’t speak anymore, and she pulls me back in tight, holding on like she’s trying to fit seventeen years of holding on into these last few minutes.
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