Chapter 1 — A Warning Ignored

Third Person

The forest pulsed with life, its towering trees swaying gently in the evening breeze as the sun disappeared behind the hills, leaving a molten orange glow spread across the horizon. Beneath the thick canopy, seven-year-old Claudia Arlen crouched low, her mismatched eyes darting between the moss-covered roots of an ancient oak. Her amber eye glimmered faintly in the fading light, while the crimson one seemed to drink in the shadows.

The soft, muffled sound of footsteps made her freeze. Rustling leaves. A low growl carried on the wind. She tightened her grip on the small wooden bow her mother had carved for her. It wasn’t much, but it made her feel braver, even if the arrows she clutched were dulled sticks.

“Claudia!” James’s voice, bright and full of laughter, called from somewhere behind her. Her younger brother was only three, but his exuberant giggles always carried too far when they played hide-and-seek. “Clauda! I’m gonna find you!”

She bit her lip, her chest tightening. “Shh,” she whispered as if he could hear her through the trees. “You’re going to scare them off.”

The them in question was a pair of black-winged ravens perched on a low branch ahead of her. They weren’t ordinary birds—something about their glowing yellow eyes and the way they watched her, too still, too intentional, made her stomach twist. They’d appeared after dinner, circling the den before disappearing into the trees. Her mother’s warnings echoed in her ears: Never stray too far alone. You’re too young to shift. You’ll be vulnerable.

But Claudia had ignored her, inexplicably drawn by a pull she didn’t understand. A flicker of defiance hardened her resolve; she hardly ever got to explore without someone hovering over her.

The larger of the two ravens tilted its head, feathers rippling as it opened its beak. A guttural croak echoed through the air, sending a shiver down her spine. Goosebumps rose on her skin, and she rubbed her arms, trying to shake off the unease.

And then it happened.

The world around her blurred, the trees stretching upward into blackened spires. The forest’s vibrant greens faded into gray, and the glowing fungi on the ground flickered out, plunging everything into cold, oppressive silence. Even the ravens seemed to dissolve into darkness.

Her vision swirled violently, and she staggered, dropping her bow as her knees hit the soft earth. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Her mismatched eyes burned, tears streaking her cheeks as the scene unfolded.

Blood.

A figure—a young man from the pack, Tanner, one of her father’s closest friends—lay crumpled by a cluster of moonshade blossoms. His chest heaved as he gasped for breath, claw marks raking deep red gashes across his torso. His amber eyes stared unfocused at the canopy above, lips moving soundlessly.

Something moved in the shadows, large and sleek. A wolf stepped into view, its fur a patchwork of black and gray streaked with crimson. It wasn’t a familiar wolf—not one of their pack. Its eyes glowed an unnatural, eerie red, and its claws scraped long lines into the ground as it stalked forward.

“No,” Claudia whispered. Her small fingers clawed at the ground, trying to drag herself back, but her body felt heavy and sluggish as the vision held her captive.

The rogue wolf struck. Its jaws closed over Tanner’s neck, and the world exploded into silence.

The vision shattered, leaving Claudia gasping and choking for air. Her hands flew to her throat as if she could feel the phantom bite. The forest returned to its normal hues, the bioluminescent fungi flickering back to life and the evening breeze brushing her cheeks. But her chest still burned, her breaths shallow and uneven.

Was it real? A cruel trick of her own imagination? She pressed trembling fingers to her eyes, trying to block out the lingering flashes of crimson fur and ragged breaths. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen… something. But it had never been this vivid. This terrifying.

James’s voice came closer. “Claudia! Mama says—”

Her heart thundered as she scrambled to her feet, her bow forgotten. Her shaky legs carried her through the thick underbrush until she saw him wobbling on his chubby legs a few paces away. His golden hair glinted in the dim light, and his bright blue eyes lit up when he saw her.

“There you are! Let’s play—”

Claudia grabbed his hand. “We have to go. Now.”

“But I didn’t find you yet!” he protested, his lower lip jutting out.

“There’s no time,” she snapped, gripping his hand tightly as she tugged him toward the den. Her mind raced with the images from her vision, the rogue wolf’s glowing eyes burned into her memory. She didn’t dare look back.

They burst into the den’s entrance, the glowing runes on the walls casting golden light over the stone chamber. Pack members milled about, their voices a low hum of chatter and laughter as they prepared for the evening’s feast. The smell of roasted venison and herbs filled the air, but Claudia barely noticed.

Her mother, Alara, stood by the central firepit, her sleek black hair falling over her shoulders as she handed a basket of bread to one of the Omegas. Her sharp amber eyes narrowed when she saw Claudia dragging James behind her.

“Claudia,” Alara said, her voice firm. “What is the meaning of this? Your brother—”

“Tanner’s going to die!” Claudia blurted, her words tumbling out in a frantic rush. “There’s a rogue wolf—it’s in the forest—he can’t go—”

The den fell silent. Dozens of eyes turned to her, their gazes heavy with confusion and skepticism.

Alara’s expression hardened, but a flicker of something—fear, perhaps—crossed her face before it was hidden by the mask of authority. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw it!” Claudia insisted, her voice trembling. “I saw it happen—just now! Tanner was… he was—”

“Enough.” Alara’s voice cut through her panic like a blade. “You’re scaring your brother.”

Claudia glanced at James, who clung to her arm, his wide, innocent eyes brimming with confusion. She swallowed the lump in her throat, but the burning urgency in her chest refused to fade.

“You have to believe me,” she whispered, her mismatched eyes pleading with her mother.

The pack murmured among themselves, their words like the hiss of wind through the trees. Cursed. Witch-born. Demon child.

Alara’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Tanner is a capable fighter. He—”

“Alara,” a deep voice interrupted.

Claudia’s father stepped forward, his towering frame casting a long shadow across the chamber. Unlike the others, his crimson eyes met Claudia’s without fear or judgment. He crouched in front of her, his hands resting on her trembling shoulders.

“What did you see?” he asked gently, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Her words tumbled out, halting and shaky as she described the rogue wolf, the attack, the blood.

His expression darkened, but he didn’t scoff or dismiss her. Instead, he stood and turned to Alara. “I’ll go after Tanner.”

Alara frowned, hesitation flickering in her gaze. “Damon—”

“She saw something.” His tone left no room for argument. “And I trust her.”

The murmurs grew louder as he strode toward the den’s exit, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the firelight. Claudia’s heart sank with each step he took, her mother’s warning glare pinning her in place.

But it didn’t matter.

Hours later, when Damon returned carrying Tanner’s broken, lifeless body, the pack’s murmurs turned to silence.

No one spoke to Claudia as they dragged the body to the ceremonial pyre. No one met her eyes.

That night, as the fire crackled and her mother’s sharp words cut through the cold air—“You can’t scare people like that. Visions mean nothing in this pack.”—Claudia sat alone at the edge of the den. Her small hands clutched the Shadowstone Pendant her father had placed around her neck before vanishing into the forest.

The weight of his parting words felt heavier than the pendant itself.

“Never fear what you are, Claudia. Even when they do.”