Chapter 5: The Wolf in Her Blood

The dream came like a tide of silver and shadow.

Ava stood in a moonlit clearing, her feet bare against cold, dew-kissed grass. She was not herself. Her body was longer, leaner, muscles coiled with a power she'd never known. Her hands were claws—no, her hands were *paws*, massive and tipped with obsidian nails that gleamed like polished stone.

Around her, a pack of wolves bowed low, their golden eyes filled with reverence. And at the center of them all stood a figure she couldn't quite see, a man wreathed in darkness, his voice a rumble that shook the earth.

"You are mine," he said. "In this life and the next."

The dream shattered.

Ava woke with a gasp, her skin slick with sweat, her heart slamming against her ribs. The silver bond in her chest pulsed, hot and demanding, as if the dream had stirred something deep within her. She pressed her fingers to her sternum, feeling the foreign thrum of power that seemed to live just beneath her skin.

It wasn't the first time she'd had the dream. For three nights straight, the same vision had plagued her—the clearing, the wolves, the shadowed king. And every time she woke, she felt stronger. Faster. *Different*.

The morning sun streamed through her window as she dressed, her movements unnaturally fluid. She caught her reflection in the mirror and froze. Her eyes—they were no longer the soft brown they'd always been. They shimmered with a hint of gold, like molten amber catching the light.

"What's happening to me?" she whispered.

She found Thorne in the training yard, his massive form silhouetted against the rising sun. He turned as she approached, and his nostrils flared, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

"You smell different," he said, his voice rough. "Like the forest after rain. Like—" He stopped, his eyes widening. "Ava, your eyes."

"I know." She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly self-conscious. "I've been having dreams, Thorne. Dreams of a life I don't remember. Of a wolf—a powerful one. And I feel…" She struggled to find the words. "I feel like there's something inside me, clawing to get out."

Thorne's jaw tightened. He stepped closer, his hand cupping her chin, tilting her face toward the light. "I've heard of this," he said slowly. "Some human mates develop wolf traits over time. It's rare, but not unheard of. The bond is powerful, Ava. It can change you."

"Change me into what?"

Before he could answer, a shadow fell over them. Kael.

The Lycan King stood at the edge of the yard, his silver eyes blazing with an intensity that made Ava's breath catch. He'd heard everything.

"Train her," he said, his voice cold and absolute. "If she's developing wolf traits, she needs to know how to use them."

Ava's heart lurched. "What? I don't—I've never fought in my life."

"Exactly." Kael's gaze was unyielding. "You're a liability. The pack that attacked the border was after you. If you can't defend yourself, you'll die. And I refuse to let that happen."

Thorne stepped between them. "She's not ready, Kael. Pushing her too hard could break her."

"She's stronger than you think." Kael's eyes locked on Ava, and for a moment, she saw something flicker in their depths—fear, maybe, or desperation. "She has to be."

The training began that afternoon.

Thorne was relentless, running her through drills until her muscles screamed and her lungs burned. But as the hours passed, something strange happened. The exhaustion didn't slow her down. Instead, her movements grew sharper, faster, more instinctive. She dodged Thorne's strikes with a grace she'd never possessed, her body moving before her mind could catch up.

By dusk, she had Thorne pinned to the ground, her forearm pressed against his throat.

He laughed, breathless. "Where did you learn that?"

"I didn't," she said, pulling back, her hands trembling. "It just… happened."

Kael was watching from the shadows. As Ava rose to her feet, he stepped forward, his presence suffocating. "Again," he ordered.

"I'm exhausted."

"You're not." He circled her, his eyes tracing the lines of her body. "You're just beginning to wake up."

He attacked without warning.

His first strike came at her head. She ducked. His second came at her ribs. She twisted away. He lunged, and this time, Ava didn't think. She moved, her body a blur of motion, and when she came to a stop, she was behind him, her hand wrapped around his throat.

The pack gasped.

Kael didn't move. He didn't even breathe. Slowly, he turned his head, his lips brushing against her ear.

"Good," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "But you're still holding back."

He broke free in a flash of motion, his hand catching her wrist and spinning her around. She slammed into his chest, and for a moment, they were frozen, their faces inches apart. His scent invaded her senses—smoke and pine and something darker, something that made her knees weak.

"You feel it too, don't you?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "The pull. The need."

Ava's heart raced. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar." His thumb traced her jaw, sending electricity down her spine. "You dream of me, Ava. You dream of a life we lived before. And in that life, you were the most powerful she-wolf the world had ever seen."

Her breath caught. "How do you know about my dreams?"

Kael's smile was dark, possessive. "Because I'm in them."

He released her and stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers. "Train harder. The full moon is in three days. And when it rises, the wolf inside you will either wake… or die."

He turned and walked away, leaving Ava standing in the dirt, her heart pounding, her blood singing with a power she could no longer deny.

And then she heard it—a howl, distant and mournful, echoing through the trees.

It was the same howl from her dream.

And it was calling her name.