Shifting fates

Chapter Four: The Witch

With a reluctant sigh, the witch pulls something from her robe—an innocuous-looking vial filled with a shimmering liquid, pale as moonlight. She hesitates for a moment longer, her brow furrowing in doubt.

“It’s dangerous,” Nessie warns, her voice quieter now, laced with reluctance. “The damage this could cause…”

But my mother doesn’t wait. With one swift movement, she shoves the vial into my mouth, forcing the liquid down my throat before I can protest. I choke, the bitterness burning my throat, and the world blurs even more as my wolf roars, pounding against the edges of my consciousness.

The instant it hits my system, my body seizes. A pain rips through me—unbearable, like something inside is being torn away. I can’t breathe, can’t scream, only howl in agony as the bond meant to connect me to Ryker, my mate, is violently ripped apart.

And then, just when I think I might die from the sheer agony of it, Ellie’s wolf appears—towering over me. Her white fur gleams in the dim moonlight, her eyes cold and predatory. She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. She just stands there, and it feels like she’s taking something from me—my soul, my wolf, my very essence.

The pain sharpens, intensifies, each second stretching into an eternity. The transformation forces me to shift, and it’s excruciating—like my wolf is being stripped from my soul, torn away and replaced with a void, a hollow nothing. My body jerks violently, the world spinning, my cries swallowed by the night air.

When it’s over, I lie naked on the forest floor, shivering and weak. My wolf is gone.

I hear whispers—the distant calls of the pack running—but they feel so far away, like a world I no longer belong to. Through the haze, I see Ellie’s wolf still standing over me, watching with those cold, unfeeling eyes.

Before I can even try to sit up, everything goes black. My body feels like lead, and I lose consciousness in the damp earth beneath me.