Makayla clawed at the hand around her throat, but it was wrong. Not solid. Not smoke. It felt like both—as if shadows had taken shape and wrapped themselves around her. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm either. It was just there, seeping into her skin like it belonged.
Her instincts screamed at her to fight, to tear, to kill—but her body wasn’t listening.
She couldn’t move.
She couldn’t move.
The thing holding her wasn’t human. It wasn’t vampire. It wasn’t anything she could name. And worst of all—
It knew her.
"We found you."
Its voice slithered through her mind, not spoken aloud but planted there, creeping like ink spreading through water. Makayla tried to snarl, to spit out some defiant response, but her lips wouldn’t part.
The thing tightened its grip.
Dark tendrils coiled ar
