The wind was wrong.
It swept through Ashridge in sharp, disjointed gusts that rattled the leaves without rhythm, whispering secrets no human ear could fully understand. The forest never lied — and tonight, it was warning them.
Evelyn Blake sat on the edge of the wooden porch wrapped in a thick knitted blanket that didn't quite warm her. Her knees were drawn to her chest, chin resting atop them, as her eyes drifted across the darkening horizon. The cold didn't bother her as much now. What unsettled her… was the sound.
It was always there lately. A heartbeat.
Not hers.
Not entirely.
At first, she thought it was anxiety. Or hallucination. But it had grown louder—more insistent. It didn't sync with her own. It had its own rhythm. Its own life. And some nights, like this one, it drowned everything else out.
She pressed a hand over her heart, feeling her pulse—and the other one just beneath it. The second thrum made her dizzy. Like something inside her was coming alive.
Something she hadn't asked for.
Something ancient.
⸻
Lucian watched from the trees.
He'd been doing that a lot lately—keeping his distance, hovering like a shadow, just far enough to be unseen but never truly gone. His pack didn't know it, but he hadn't slept properly in days. Not since the night she collapsed in front of him… and he'd heard it too.
That heartbeat.
At first, he thought he was imagining it. But Lucian didn't imagine things. He smelled things. Heard things. Knew things. Especially when they were dangerous.
And Evelyn Blake was becoming dangerous.
Not to the pack. Not even to him.
To herself.
He could feel the pull growing stronger every day. Her scent was changing subtly. Her eyes were darker in the moonlight. There were moments when her emotions flared and the air itself shifted around her like it recognized her power—like it bowed to it.
It scared him.
Because he didn't understand it.
And Lucian hated what he couldn't control.
⸻
Evelyn didn't know how long she'd been sitting there when the door creaked open behind her.
She didn't turn. She didn't have to. She could feel Lucian before he made a sound.
"You shouldn't be out here," he said quietly.
"I can't sleep."
He stepped closer, boots crunching softly against the porch boards. "Is it the dreams again?"
She shook her head. "No… it's louder now."
Lucian sat beside her without a word. The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable—it was heavy. Charged.
"You feel it too, don't you?" she finally asked. "The second heartbeat."
Lucian didn't answer. But he didn't need to. The tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flickered silver in the dark… it was answer enough.
Evelyn exhaled, long and shaky. "It's not just inside me anymore."
"No," Lucian said, his voice low. "It's not."
⸻
The forest wasn't quiet that night.
A howl pierced the air in the distance—sharp and furious. Not one of Lucian's pack.
A rogue.
Lucian stood up in a flash, eyes blazing, body tense. He sniffed the air, muscles coiling.
"Stay inside," he said.
But Evelyn rose with him. "It's here for me, isn't it?"
Lucian's expression didn't change—but the silence confirmed it.
Evelyn didn't ask how he knew. She didn't ask what it meant.
Because deep inside… she already knew.
⸻
An hour later, Lucian met with Riven, Kade, and two other scouts at the tree line beyond the cabin. Evelyn stayed behind. Or at least, she was supposed to.
"The scent pattern's wrong," Riven muttered, crouching near the forest floor. "It didn't cross the border—it was already inside."
Lucian's hands clenched at his sides. "Then it knows where she is."
Kade looked uneasy. "Why would it target her? She's human."
Lucian didn't answer. Couldn't. Because every time he thought he understood what Evelyn was… something changed. Something evolved. And now even his instincts were at war with his mind.
"She's not just human anymore," he finally said. "Whatever she's becoming… the rogues can sense it."
⸻
Evelyn couldn't stay put.
The cabin walls felt too close. Her skin itched. Her veins burned. The heartbeat inside her was no longer faint — it was thunderous, echoing through her bones. She stepped outside, barefoot, pulled only by something she couldn't name.
The clearing behind the cabin shimmered with moonlight. The trees whispered her name.
And then came the pain.
She dropped to her knees, gasping. Her hands clawed at the earth. Her vision blurred as the sound in her head grew louder, more desperate.
The second heartbeat was no longer waiting. It was demanding.
Memories that weren't hers flooded her senses — flashes of claws, of running through endless woods, of blood… so much blood. And a name. A name not her own.
Evelyn screamed.
And the forest howled back.
⸻
Lucian shifted mid-sprint, fur exploding across his skin, bones cracking as he took wolf form. He had no time for caution.
The howl had come from the clearing.
And Evelyn was alone.
He burst through the trees, paws digging into the dirt. The stench of rogue lingered — it had been here. But it was gone now.
And at the center of the clearing… Evelyn lay curled on her side, her skin glowing faintly, her body trembling. Her hair fanned around her like a halo of ink. Her heartbeat — both of them — were wild.
Lucian shifted back and dropped to his knees beside her, eyes wide.
"Evelyn—" he touched her shoulder, but something stopped him.
A ripple.
Like static. Like magic. Like a boundary had formed between them.
And then she opened her eyes.
They weren't entirely hers.
Not anymore.
⸻
She stared at him, barely breathing.
"Lucian…" she whispered.
He nodded, trying to hold back the storm rising in him. "You're okay. It's over."
But it wasn't.
She sat up slowly, blinking as though seeing the world differently. "I saw them," she said softly. "Wolves. Teeth. Fire. I was there."
Lucian's voice cracked. "In the past?"
She shook her head. "In someone else."
Lucian felt something in his chest fracture.
Because what stared back at him was no longer just Evelyn Blake.
It was something older.
Something that didn't belong to this time.
⸻
Far beyond the forest, on the edge of territory the pack hadn't patrolled in months, a rogue wolf stood on a rocky cliff, watching the trees below.
Its eyes weren't red. They were black.
It didn't growl. It didn't move.
It only listened.
Because the second heartbeat had finally awakened.
And war was coming.