Ava didn't sleep.
Not with the fire dying low, the walls breathing with shadows, and that silver mark pulsing on her skin like it had a heartbeat of its own.
She'd wrapped the blanket tight around her, but it didn't stop the cold. It wasn't from the forest. It was something deeper—like something inside her had cracked open.
At dawn, the door creaked.
He returned.
Still shirtless. Still silent.
His eyes didn't meet hers as he dropped wood by the hearth and knelt to relight the fire.
She studied him now, less afraid, more curious. His back was scarred—deep lines that looked older than him. Not from one wound. From many.
"What was that thing in the forest?" she asked.
He didn't look up. "A rogue."
"A what?"
"A wolf without a pack. Wild. Dangerous. Unstable."
Her breath hitched. "Wolf? You mean like—?"
He met her eyes, and something in her throat went still.
Not human.
Not fully.
"You saw its eyes," he said. "You know it wasn't normal."
"And what about yours?" she whispered. "They looked the same."
His jaw tensed. "Then you already know the answer."
She stood, the blanket slipping from her shoulders. "Why me? Why did it come after me?"
His eyes flicked to her collarbone, where the mark glowed faintly beneath her skin. His expression darkened.
"You shouldn't have been in the forest."
"You already said that."
"Then you should start listening."
Ava stepped closer, heart pounding. "You saved me. You brought me here. You could've left me to die. So what are you not telling me?"
He stood now too, taller than she expected, closer than she realized.
The air between them shifted.
"The mark," she said, softer. "It wasn't there before. It's… doing something to me."
He didn't answer.
But his gaze dropped to the mark like it burned him to look at it.
"It chose you," he said finally. "And now... you're part of something you don't understand."
"Then explain it to me."
"I can't."
"Can't or won't?"
He stepped back like her nearness was dangerous.
"If I tell you what you are," he said, "you'll never sleep again."
Ava stared into the fire long after he was gone. The wind howled outside — or maybe something else.
And when she looked down at the mark again, it shimmered brighter.
She could feel it now.
Not just on her skin… but under it. In her veins. In her blood.
She was changing.
And no one had warned her what it would cost.