The night felt wrong.
Aria stood at the edge of the forest, her breath shallow, her pulse uneven. The wind whispered through the trees like a warning, brushing against her skin with an eerie familiarity—as if it knew her. As if it recognized what she had become.
Or what she was becoming.
Ever since the incident—the moment she had nearly killed one of her own—something inside her had shifted. No… not shifted.
Awakened.
She could still see it when she closed her eyes: the surge of power, uncontrollable, violent, intoxicating. It hadn’t felt like her. And yet, it had. That was the terrifying part.
Aria clenched her fists.
“What is happening to me…” she whispered.
“You already know the answer.”
The voice came from behind her, calm, ancient, and heavy with knowing.
Aria turned sharply
