Darkness closed around me.
Not the gentle sort that came with sleep, but a choking void—thick and heavy, clinging to my shape like smoke. I drifted through it, weightless, my limbs unshackled from gravity. My body drifted, but my soul burned.
Flames licked beneath my skin. They danced in the marrow of my bones. Blue. Wild. Old.
Something had woken.
A voice spoke in the darkness—soft, melodic, and impossibly familiar.
"She is born of moonlight and fire."
I turned, but there was nothing, no one. Only the hum of energy that resonated through me like the twang of a thousand strings.
"She is the daughter of two lines, hidden to protect, forgotten to live."
The voice was louder now, closer.
"And now. the time has come."
And then a burst of light.
My body spasmed as I jolted back into reality, gasping, clawing at the damp soil of the forest floor. The air was cold, the moon now obscured by cloud cover, and the scent of pine and moss filled my nostrils.
I blinked.
No fire. No voices.
Only silence.
Until—
"She's awake," a woman said softly.
I twisted, panting as my body screamed in revolt. Two women stood a short distance away from me, dressed in long robes that gleamed with silver embroidery. Their hoods were up, their faces obscured in shadow, but I could feel their power.
Power. Magic. Feminine and fierce.
"Who—who are you?" My voice cracked, hoarse from the rejection, from the scream I'd unleashed before the world went black.
One of them stepped forward, her presence both calming and commanding. She pushed back her hood, revealing smooth caramel skin, almond-shaped eyes glowing with a subtle gold light, and thick curls braided down her back.
"My name is Lysandra," she said. "High Priestess of the Moonfire Coven."
Coven.
My heart stopped.
"You're witches?"
The second woman chuckled as she took a step forward. "Is that a problem, little wolf?"
She was taller, whiter, with bone-straight raven-black hair and obsidian shards for eyes. Her aura shone with pent-up chaos. Destructive. Feral.
"No," I said quickly. "I just. I didn't know there were witches."
The darker one—Lysandra—crouched beside me, her voice gentler. "Witches. Wolves. Fae. Shifters. Even gods. We're all real, children. Most of the world has simply forgotten."
She placed a hand on my arm, and heat coursed through me, but not the hurtful kind. It was soothing. Healing.
I looked down.
My skin was burning with this same blue fire. No trick. No illusion.
"What's happening to me?" I whispered.
Lysandra looked into my eyes. "You're awakening.".
A shiver ran down my spine.
"I'm a wolf," I panted. "But I don't even have my shift. I've always been weak."
"No." Lysandra's eyes narrowed. "You've always been bound."
Bound?
I blinked. "I don't understand."
The second woman—who had not spoken her name—sighed, crossing her arms. "Of course you don't. That was the plan, wasn't it? Keep the girl ignorant. Keep her magic contained. Keep her small so the wrong people never locate her."
Lysandra shot her a look. "Not now, Thorne."
Thorne rolled her eyes. "I am not going to baby her. She needs the truth."
I sat up, swaying, still reeling. "Tell me everything."
Thorne crouched in front of me, his face inches from mine. "You were never just a wolf, Aria Vale. You are the daughter of two ancient bloodlines—werewolf and witch. Your mother was one of us. An elemental. Strong one. Your father, Alpha of the vanished Nightfang pack.".
My heart thrashed against my ribs.
"That's impossible," I said, a trembling voice. "My parents were murdered in a rogue attack."
Lysandra nodded hesitantly. "That's what you've been told. But it was no rogue attack. They were hunted. Your father's lineage was a threat to the balance of power. And your mother? She died protecting you—sealing your magic, hiding your wolf, and leaving you with a scar to keep it all tied."
I traced my fingers along the torn scar down my spine.
"That's not a wound, really," Lysandra said. "More of a seal. One that ruptured the moment your mate rejected you."
Rejected me.
I gasped. Kaine's voice still sounded like a knife to the heart.
"I felt something," I whispered. "As if the rejection flayed open something inside of me.".
Thorne smiled. "Sounds about right. Rejection trauma has a way of bringing out dormant powers in hybrids. That or near-death experiences. You were lucky to get both."
I swallowed hard. "What do I do now?"
Lysandra stood, extending her hand. "Now, you come with us. You train. You unlock your full self. Witch and wolf."
I hesitated, gazing at the hand that could change everything.
"If I go with you…" I whispered, "can I ever go back?"
"Not the same," Lysandra said. "But you'll go back stronger. They'll regret ever underestimating you. Especially the one who rejected you."
Kaine.
His name was Ash on my tongue.
His rejection had broken something inside me.
But it had also ignited something else.
Fire.
Vengeance.
Power.
I took Lysandra's hand.
And everything changed.