Chapter 1

“We’re not supposed to be out here. This is private property—or worse, like, cursed forest or something.”

“It’s just woods, Danny.” Mason didn’t look back. His boots crunched over dry leaves, the cold air sharp against his skin. Behind him, the two girls followed—Seraphina Vance, all perfect posture and sharp glances, and Chloe Sterling, quiet and clutching her oversized sweater like it could protect her.

They’d met at the party. Seraphina had laughed at Mason’s dare to find the old hunting cabin that supposedly sat a mile into the forest. Chloe had just looked at the ground, like she already knew this was a bad idea. But she came anyway.

Now the four of them were pushing deeper into the woods, the party lights long gone. The only sounds were their footsteps and the occasional rustle of something moving in the underbrush.

“This is stupid,” Danny muttered. “We’re going to get lost, and then we’ll be that story—the kids who went missing after a party.”

“Relax, man. We’ll find the cabin, take a picture, and be back before anyone misses us.” Mason’s voice was steady, but something prickled at the back of his neck. The air felt wrong—too still, like the forest was holding its breath.

Seraphina stopped. “Did you hear that?”

They all froze. A low growl rumbled from the darkness ahead. Low and guttural, like it came from something big. Mason’s heart hammered, but he didn’t move.

“Probably a deer,” he said, but even he didn’t believe it.

Then the growl turned into a snarl, and the shadows shifted. A massive wolf emerged from between two trees. Its fur was dark grey, almost black, and its eyes glowed a sickly amber. Blood matted its side—a deep wound that oozed with every ragged breath. The wolf was dying. But it wasn’t backing down.

“Run,” Chloe whispered.

Nobody ran. They couldn’t. The wolf’s gaze locked onto Mason, and then it moved faster than anything that size should. Before Mason could throw up his arms, teeth sank into his forearm. Pain exploded through him—white-hot and blinding. He screamed, tried to pull away, but the wolf held on, dragging him down.

Danny shouted. Something cracked against the wolf’s skull—a rock, maybe—and the grip loosened. Mason scrambled back, blood streaming from the gash on his arm. The wolf turned, its amber eyes sweeping over all four of them. It was dying, but it wasn’t done. One by one, it lunged again—a snap at Danny’s leg, a bite at Seraphina’s shoulder, a slash across Chloe’s ribs.

Then it collapsed. Its chest heaved once, twice, and then went still.

For a long moment, nobody spoke. The only sound was their ragged breathing and the wet drip of blood hitting the leaves.

“Is it dead?” Danny’s voice cracked.

Mason couldn’t answer. His arm burned, but it wasn’t just the wound. Something else was spreading through him—a heat that started in his chest and crawled outward, making his skin prickle and his muscles twitch. He looked at his hands. They were trembling.

Seraphina pressed a hand to her shoulder, her face pale. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Chloe was staring at the dead wolf, her eyes wide. “It… it bit all of us.”

“We need a hospital,” Danny said, but his voice was high and thin.

Mason’s vision blurred. The trees seemed to lean closer, the shadows deepening. He tried to stand, but his legs wouldn’t obey. The heat was turning into something else—a pressure, like his bones were trying to reshape themselves. A scream built in his throat, but it came out as a growl.

Danny grabbed his arm. “Mason? Mason, stay with me.”

But Mason couldn’t answer. Because when he looked at Danny, his friend’s face was suddenly too bright, too detailed—he could see the sweat on his brow, the fear in his eyes, the pulse beating in his throat. And he could smell the blood.

His own blood. Their blood.

The first howl wasn’t coming from the forest. It was coming from inside him.