THE DARKSIDERS VOL 2: Shezayah Rise Of The Wolf

The wolf hunter’s body hit the forest floor with a wet crack beneath the weight of Shezayah’s shove, leaves and mud scattering around him as the knife slipped from his hand and disappeared somewhere into the darkness. For a second, neither of them moved. The night itself seemed to hold its breath with her, cold air burning through her lungs while blood dripped steadily from the cut across her cheek. The man stared up at her in shock, mouth twitching like he still couldn’t believe a girl half his size had overpowered him, but Shezayah barely noticed anymore. Her heartbeat had become too loud. Too violent. Every pulse slammed through her chest hard enough to hurt, and somewhere deep inside her body, something unfamiliar began clawing its way awake. “You…” the hunter rasped, struggling against the hand Shezayah had locked around his throat. His voice came out uneven now, edged with panic instead of arrogance. “You’re one of them.” Her grip tightened instinctively before she could stop herself. One of them. The words should have confused her more than they did, but right now confusion was drowning beneath something far worse. Heat spread violently beneath her skin, sharp enough to feel like fire trapped inside her veins, and she stumbled back suddenly, releasing him as pain tore through her spine hard enough to force a grunt from between her clenched teeth. Her knees hit the dirt a second later. The forest spun around her in blurred streaks of black and silver while distant sounds slammed into her ears all at once, branches creaking miles away, wings flapping overhead, the hunter’s terrified heartbeat pounding so loudly it sounded almost inside her own chest. The hunter dragged himself backward through the dirt so quickly his boots caught against exposed roots, panic swallowing every ounce of arrogance he had seconds earlier. His eyes stayed locked on her hands, on the unnatural way her fingers trembled against the forest floor, and whatever he saw there seemed to hollow the color straight from his face. “You’re cursed,” he said again, though this time the words sounded less like an accusation and more like fear finally catching up to him. “Gods… you’re one of them.” Shezayah tried to tell him to shut up, but the sound that forced its way out of her throat wasn’t human anymore. It came low and rough, vibrating painfully through her chest like something else had forced its way into her voice, and the noise alone was enough to make the hunter recoil. Another wave of pain ripped through her body before she could catch her breath, violent enough to force her forward onto one hand while the other clawed helplessly at the ground beneath her. She felt it then, bones shifting beneath her skin with unbearable pressure as sharp black claws slowly pushed through where her nails had been only moments ago. For the first time in her life, Shezayah felt fear settle heavily in her chest. And then the voice came. Not from the trees. Not from behind her. From inside her own head. The sound of it made her stomach tighten instantly, rough and unfamiliar in a way that felt wrong against her own thoughts. Hunter, the voice growled slowly. Silence followed for half a second before it spoke again. Kill him. “No,” Shezayah whispered instantly, though she could barely hear herself over the violent pounding in her chest. The hunter must have heard enough. He scrambled to his feet and ran. Branches snapped loudly as he tore through the forest without direction, blinded by panic, but Shezayah barely noticed the movement itself. What she noticed was everything else. The exact rhythm of his heartbeat crashing unevenly inside his chest. The smell of sweat and blood soaking into the night air. The sound of his boots striking damp earth somewhere ahead of her even after the darkness swallowed him whole. Her stomach twisted violently. Every instinct inside her screamed to chase him. Shezayah forced herself backward instead, dragging shaking fingers through her hair while another sharp crack tore through her arm. Pain shot from her shoulder straight down to her wrist hard enough to blur her vision, and for a second she genuinely thought her bones were breaking apart beneath her skin. Her breathing turned ragged as she stared at the claws protruding from her hands, at the dark veins beginning to spread beneath her forearm, and panic finally started clawing its way through the walls she normally kept around herself. “What the f**k is happening to me?” she breathed. The voice answered immediately this time. He runs because he knows what you are. Shezayah’s entire body went still. The forest suddenly felt too small. Every sound pressed into her at once, overwhelming and sharp enough to hurt. Leaves shifting somewhere high above her. Tiny claws skittering across bark. Water moving faintly in the distance. She could hear all of it now, every noise crashing into her skull until it became impossible to separate one thing from another. Shezayah shoved her palms against the sides of her head with a curse, squeezing her eyes shut while her breathing turned uneven. “Get out of my head,” she snapped. A low rumble echoed through her mind in response, almost amused. You hear me because you belong to me. “No,” she shot back immediately, shaking her head hard enough to send loose curls sticking against her damp skin. “I’m not losing my damn mind tonight.” But even as the words left her mouth, another violent pull twisted through her body. Her spine arched painfully as something beneath her skin shifted again, muscles tightening in ways they never should have, and Shezayah barely caught herself against a tree before collapsing completely. Her claws dug straight through the bark on instinct, splintering wood beneath her grip while panic finally started breaking through the anger she’d been holding together. Then she smelled it again. Blood. Fresh. Close. And before Shezayah could stop herself, her head slowly lifted toward the direction the hunter had fled. The hunter was still running. She could hear it now with terrifying clarity, the uneven rhythm of his breathing crashing through the forest ahead of her while branches snapped beneath his boots one after another. He was exhausted already. Slower than before. Injured. Shezayah knew it without needing to see him, and somehow that realization made something dark twist pleasantly in the pit of her stomach. Her jaw tightened instantly. “No,” she muttered again, though this time the word sounded weaker. Weakness, the voice growled. Shezayah pushed herself away from the tree hard enough for bark to tear beneath her claws, stumbling backward as she fought to steady her breathing. Every part of her body felt wrong now, too tight and too powerful at the same time, like something far larger was trying to force itself beneath her skin. Her heartbeat had slowed into something heavier, calmer, but somehow more dangerous, and the longer she stood there breathing in the scent of blood drifting through the night air, the harder it became to remember why chasing him was a bad idea. The voice stayed quiet for a moment before speaking again. He hunted our kind. Our. The word hit harder than the pain. Shezayah’s eyes narrowed slowly as anger flickered through the panic twisting inside her chest. “I’m not one of you,” she said through clenched teeth. This time the voice almost sounded amused. Then why are you still following his scent? Shezayah’s breathing slowed despite herself, uneven air dragging painfully through her lungs while the forest pressed in around her from every direction. The voice no longer sounded distant or imagined. It sounded present, steady inside her head in a way that made her skin crawl because some part of her already knew this wasn’t panic or shock twisting her thoughts. Something was there with her. Something alive. Her fingers curled tightly at her sides as she forced herself upright against the tree behind her. “What are you?” she asked finally, the question leaving her rougher than she intended. “What the hell is happening to me?” For the first time since the voice appeared, silence settled between them. Not empty silence either. Waiting silence. The kind that felt heavy enough to suffocate the air around her while pain continued pulsing beneath her skin in slow violent waves. When the voice finally answered, it did so without hesitation. I am Artemis. The name settled into her chest strangely, almost like hearing something she should have recognized already. I am your wolf. The words hit harder than the transformation itself. Shezayah stared into the darkness ahead of her while another sharp pulse rolled through her body, but this time it wasn’t only pain crashing against her ribs. Emotion followed with it. Rage. Hunger. Territorial instinct so strong it nearly turned her stomach. None of it felt fully hers, yet all of it existed inside her like it always had. “My wolf?” she repeated quietly, struggling to keep her voice steady while her claws flexed involuntarily at her sides. A low rumble echoed through her mind, calmer now, but no less dangerous. You spent your life calling it anger because that was easier for you to understand, Artemis said, her voice settling heavily against Shezayah’s thoughts. But every instinct you buried, every fight you started, every moment you felt something inside you begging to lash out… that was me trying to survive inside you. “That’s impossible,” Shezayah said immediately, but the confidence she wanted behind the words never fully came. Her voice sounded thinner now, strained beneath the weight pressing down on her chest while another violent ache twisted through her spine. She shoved herself away from the tree again, pacing unevenly across the forest floor as if movement alone could help her think straight, but every step only made the feeling inside her stronger. Because the terrifying part wasn’t the claws. It wasn’t the voice. It was the fact that some part of her understood exactly what Artemis meant. Every fight she had ever gotten into suddenly replayed differently in her head. Every moment her temper had snapped too fast. Every instinct that told her to hit first before anyone else could hurt her. Every time she felt something ugly and restless pacing beneath her skin whenever people got too close or looked at her too long. None of it felt random anymore. “You’re not real,” she muttered, though the words sounded more like something she was trying to convince herself of now. Artemis almost sounded insulted by that. If I were not real, your body would not be shifting beneath my hands. Before Shezayah could process what that meant, pain exploded through her leg hard enough to buckle her knees instantly. A sharp cry finally tore from her throat as she crashed into the dirt, fingers digging violently into the ground while the bones in her lower body twisted with sickening pressure beneath her skin. Her breathing turned ragged again as panic clawed straight through the control she’d been desperately trying to hold onto. “Stop,” she snapped through clenched teeth. “Stop doing that.” I am not doing anything, Artemis replied, calm in a way that only made the fear worse. Your body is accepting me.