Chapter 6: The Wolf Beneath the Skin
Zara couldn’t breathe.
Not in the dream.
Not in her body.
She was buried—alive—beneath wet soil and tangled roots. Her limbs were bound, her mouth gagged. Screams pressed against her teeth but never made it out. The dark pulsed like a heartbeat, and she wasn’t alone.
Something was moving above her.
Not walking—stalking.
Clawed hands dragged across the surface. A voice slithered down through the dirt, curling inside her ear like a whisper from the void.
“You’re not a girl. You’re not a mate. You’re not even you.”
Zara thrashed in her sleep, tangled in sweat-drenched sheets.
“You’re a wolf born in silence and sealed with blood. And now the soil is cracking.”
The roots around her wrists snapped.
The earth trembled.
“Wake up, Nullborn. The skin you wear is burning.”
Her eyes flew open.
Moonlight spilled across her bed. Her chest heaved. Her body burned. It wasn’t just heat—it was pressure.
Too tight. Too hot. Too much.
She stumbled from the bed and collapsed to the floor.
Her fingers bent backward.
Bones cracked.
Her scream shattered the silence.
She crawled toward the mirror—why, she didn’t know. Maybe to see. Maybe to prove this wasn’t a nightmare.
The face staring back was hers, but not.
Eyes golden, glowing like molten metal. Veins dark and sharp beneath her skin. Her jaw shifted—visibly—like her body was arguing with itself.
And then it happened.
She felt it rise.
The wolf.
Not gentle. Not slow.
It ripped through her like lightning.
Her spine arched. Nails lengthened into claws. Her breath came out in snarls. Skin split. She convulsed, mouth stretched wide in a scream that turned to a guttural howl.
Then—
Blackness.
She woke naked in the forest.
The air smelled different—alive.
Every sound was sharper.
Every scent had a flavor.
The world was color and sound and sensation, and it pulsed through her bones like music made of instinct.
She looked at her hands.
Still human.
But the wolf inside her… wasn’t asleep anymore.
Zara sat up slowly, surrounded by trees silvered by moonlight. Her muscles ached. Her skin buzzed.
She wasn’t afraid.
She was angry.
Because no one told her it would be like this.
No warning.
No guidance.
Just pain, silence, and the shame of waking up alone in the dirt.
Footsteps approached behind her.
She didn’t flinch.
She recognized the scent before she heard the voice.
Damon.
“You shifted,” he said quietly.
She turned, still on her knees. “No thanks to you.”
“I felt it,” he said, stepping into the clearing. “The moment it started.”
“And you stayed away.”
He didn’t deny it.
“I thought you’d want space,” he said.
“I nearly broke in half,” she snapped. “Space wasn’t what I needed.”
His jaw clenched. “You survived.”
“Barely.”
Silence stretched between them.
He knelt beside her, offered a coat. She took it, wrapping it around her shaking form. His scent was on it—smoke and pine and something deeper. Familiar.
“I didn’t expect it to happen so soon,” he said.
“Liar,” she muttered.
His gaze flicked to hers, sharp. “What?”
“You’ve been waiting for it,” she said. “Watching me like a bomb you didn’t know when to disarm.”
He looked away. “Because when you shift, you become dangerous.”
Zara’s hands curled into fists beneath the coat.
“You mean uncontrollable.”
He didn’t answer.
Zara stood, unsteady but defiant. “You’re afraid of me.”
“I’m afraid of what they’ll do if they find out,” Damon said. “The Council already has eyes in this territory. You shift again without control, and they’ll sense it.”
“Good,” she said.
He blinked. “Good?”
“Let them come,” she hissed. “Let them try to take me again. I’m not the same girl they buried.”
Damon stepped forward. “That’s the problem. You don’t know what they buried.”
Her throat tightened. “Then show me.”
His hand hovered at her shoulder—close, but not touching. “When you’re ready.”
“I was born ready,” she said, eyes glowing faintly gold. “You’re the one dragging your feet.”
Before he could respond, a howl tore through the forest.
Low.
Guttural.
Not Damon’s.
Not pack.
Zara’s skin chilled.
Damon turned sharply, posture shifting, scent changing—Alpha mode.
He looked at her. “Stay close.”
They moved.
Fast.
Through trees, over frozen leaves, ducking under low branches as the sound echoed again—closer this time.
It wasn’t just one howl.
It was many.
They reached the eastern ridge.
Damon stopped so suddenly she nearly slammed into him.
Below them, in the valley—
Torches. Dozens.
Figures cloaked in black robes moved in tight formation. Their faces were hidden. At the front of the procession stood three—taller, broader, their masks made of bone.
The Council.
Damon growled low. “Too soon.”
Zara stared, pulse hammering. “What are they doing?”
“Calling something,” Damon said. “Or someone.”
As if in answer, the torches flared blue.
The earth trembled.
Zara staggered.
Something moved behind the Council—a massive shadow, shifting under moonlight. Horns. Fur. Eyes like burning coals.
Not a wolf.
Not human.
Something older.
“Time to go,” Damon said, grabbing her arm.
Zara didn’t move.
The creature raised its head and looked straight at her.
She gasped.
Because for a moment—it didn’t see her.
It recognized her.
And smiled.
Then—
The air cracked like lightning, and Damon yanked her back.
“Run,” he snarled.
They sprinted into the trees as the first howl shattered the sky.
Not a call.
Not a challenge.
A promise.
Back in the mansion, Zara collapsed against the door to her room, panting.
Damon slammed the bolt into place.
“Who was that?” she asked.
He looked her in the eye, and for the first time, she saw something Damon had never shown her before.
Fear.
“A shadow from the old world,” he said. “A creature they call Veyr.”
She stepped forward. “Why is it looking for me?”
He hesitated.
“Because it was sealed away by a Null,” he said quietly. “And only another can open the gate.”
Zara’s heart pounded.
“You mean—”
“If you unlock your full power,” Damon said, “you won’t just unseal memories or strength.”
“You’ll unseal him.”
Zara backed up until her spine hit the wall.
The wolf inside her paced restlessly.
And in the depths of her mind, something whispered again.
“You weren’t made to lead, Zara. You were made to release.”