The locket burns against my chest like a brand, pulsing with a heartbeat that isn’t mine. Rain slashes through the crypt as I clutch it, my fingers trembling—not from cold, but from the howl building inside me. I’ve spent five years pretending I didn’t feel the absence, the hollow where my wolf should be. But this… this is her. My blood remembers.

Above ground, the Silver Moon Pack celebrates Alaric’s heir—the child he conceived with Seraphine while I played obedient wife. I saw the announcement today, pinned beside our wedding portrait like a mockery.

Now, the walls tremble. Stone cracks beneath my bare feet. The locket snaps open, revealing twin wolves entwined in obsidian flame. A voice, ancient and feral, whispers in my mind: Run. Or burn.

Behind me, torchlight flares at the tunnel’s mouth. They’ve come to stop me. To silence me again.

But this time, I can feel her rising.