She Who Burns
899 Words
The first punch came fast.
Ari didn’t hesitate. She came at me with a snarl curling on her lips and fury burning in her amber eyes.
I ducked the hit, heart thrumming, and drove my shoulder into her ribs. She stumbled—just a step—but I felt it. A crack in her composure. A fault line.
She wasn’t expecting a fight.
She was expecting a m******e.
Too bad. I didn’t come here to bleed.
I came to burn.
We circled each other beneath the roar of the bonfire. Her moves were sharp, but sloppy with anger. Mine were honed by every sparring session, every humiliation, every year I’d lived with my teeth clenched and my wolf missing.
She swung. I blocked. She shoved. I countered. My fist connected with her cheek, snapping her head to the side.
The crowd gasped.
I barely heard them. All I could focus on was the pulse pounding in my ears, the fire in my limbs. The way her eyes flashed—and not with pain.
With rage.
And something else.
She was losing. And Ari didn’t lose.
Then she screamed—an unearthly, guttural sound—and shifted.
Her bones cracked and splintered. Limbs contorted. A sickening snap of muscle and spine, skin peeling back and fur erupting in its place.
“No—” I shouted. “We agreed—!”
But she wasn’t listening.
Ari was gone.
Only her wolf remained.
And it was furious.
The wolf lunged—and that’s when I heard it.
A voice from the woods.
Panicked. Male.
“ROGUES!”
Chaos exploded like shrapnel.
Howls tore through the clearing. Dozens of wolves—feral, foam-flecked, wild-eyed—burst from the trees like a storm. People screamed. Bodies shifted mid-sprint. Clothes shredded. Teeth met flesh.
I saw Boris shift instantly—his body exploding into massive golden fur.
Dorian, too—his wolf jet-black and lean, launching into the fray with a vicious snarl.
Tally vanished into her shift before my eyes, claws gleaming.
Benji was gone—someone had pulled him back, thank the gods.
And me?
I stood in the center of the chaos.
The only one still human.
Move. MOVE.
I turned, ready to run, but Ari’s wolf pounced again, fangs bared, her eyes no longer filled with fight but bloodlust.
“Ari!” I screamed, stumbling back. “Help fight them! Protect your pack!”
But she didn’t care.
I was her prey.
She slammed into me, and we hit the ground hard. My shoulder cracked against the dirt. I kicked at her ribs, screamed, tried to crawl—
Her jaws clamped around the side of my neck.
And tore.
Blood sprayed in a hot arc. My scream turned to a gargle. Agony bloomed white-hot as I felt skin, muscle—something vital—rip away.
My vision blackened at the edges.
The pain was too much. Too real.
I was dying.
I was dying.
But then—
A blur of black crashed into Ari, snarling with an inhuman fury.
A wolf. But not like the others.
Massive. Pitch-black. And eyes like cold, unnatural fire—blue, so bright they glowed.
Him.
The black wolf slammed Ari’s lighter form to the ground and snapped his jaws near her throat. She yelped and backed off, finally retreating as the rogue chaos swallowed her up.
Then the wolf turned to me.
Blood leaked from my neck. I tried to lift my arm. Tried to scream. Move. Anything.
I couldn’t.
He bit my ankle.
Pain flared again, but it was nothing compared to the gaping wound at my throat.
Then he dragged me.
Through the dirt, the blood, the fire.
I passed out.
⸻
I woke up once. I was being dragged. My head lolled. Stones scraped my back. My limbs were useless. I tried to scream but all that came out was a wet rattle.
The night swam.
Darkness pulled me under.
⸻
I woke again.
Naked.
Bleeding.
Surrounded by people in a wide circle beneath a stretch of stars I didn’t recognize.
They were beautiful. Terrifying.
All of them with deep brown skin kissed by firelight, long dark hair, tribal tattoos carved into their arms, their throats, their faces. And their eyes—
Blue.
Unnatural. Electric. Like the wolf.
They were chanting. Low and rhythmic. A hum that rattled my bones.
I couldn’t understand the words. But one repeated.
Yee naaldlooshii.
My mind barely processed it. A word from stories I half-remembered. A myth whispered as a warning.
Then I was gone again.
⸻
I woke to the scraping of stone. My body dragged across dirt. Cold air. No voices now. Just the howl of wind.
I couldn’t feel my neck anymore.
I passed out again.
⸻
Next time I woke, I was shivering.
Still naked.
Back in the battlefield. The clearing.
Abandoned.
Smoldering fire. Blood. Silence.
No chanting. No wolves. Just the stench of death.
And I was alone.
⸻
Until I wasn’t.
I felt warmth against me. The press of strong arms. A chest beneath my cheek. My body weightless.
I was being carried.
I cracked one eye open.
Koda.
Shirtless. Bleeding. Dirt smeared across his temple. His shirt was draped over my body like a blanket.
He looked down just long enough to whisper, voice cracking—
“I’ve got you.”
And then everything went dark again.
- Writer
