Rory jerked upright, breath caught in her throat.
Then she realized—she wasn't in her bed.
Trees towered above her, ancient and gnarled, their branches curling like fingers clawing at the sky. Fog slithered across the forest floor, cool and damp against her bare feet. The scent of pine needles, earth, and something older—something *wild*—hung in the air like a warning.
A growl cracked through the silence. Deep. Primal. Close.
Rory turned. Her heartbeat stuttered.
From the mist emerged a wolf, massive and searing with a glow like molten fire. His fur shimmered in hues of red and gold, as if he were born of flame itself. His eyes locked onto hers—ancient, knowing, and completely unhuman.
She couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
But she didn't run.
Something about him felt... familiar. Like a word she'd forgotten or a song she used to know.
The wolf stepped closer, his gaze never leaving hers. He didn't bare his teeth. He didn't threaten. He simply *was*—a presence so powerful the ground itself seemed to hum beneath him.
*"Don't be afraid, little one."*
The voice echoed inside her mind, deeper than thought. It wasn't sound. It was *feeling*. It *belonged* to her, in some strange, impossible way.
Her lips parted. "Who... who are you?"
The answer came as another whisper, steady and soft, but shaking something loose inside her chest.
*"I am the one who has always watched. The one who will guide you. You are not lost, Rory. You are only just beginning."*
The forest trembled. The trees bent as if bowing. The world blurred at the edges—his fire, the fog, the whispering woods—all pulling away.
"No—wait!" she cried, reaching out.
But it was already gone.
She awoke with a sharp gasp, tangled in her sheets, sweat slick on her brow. Her room was dark, quiet, untouched. The floral comforter that once felt comforting now pressed down like a weight.
Her hands trembled. Her chest heaved. But her mind wasn't here.
It was still in that forest. Still locked in the gaze of that burning wolf.
Still echoing with his words:
*You are only just beginning.*
**
Today was my sixteenth birthday.
And for the first time in my life, it felt like something was *about* to change.
As I sat up in bed, the dream slammed into me—sharp and immediate. The forest. The fire-colored wolf. His eyes. His growl. And most of all… his words.
*"Don't be afraid. I am here to show you your destiny."*
Destiny.
What did that even mean?
I'd been having dreams like this for as long as I could remember—visions, voices, impossible things. When I was little, I told my mom about them. She brushed them off with a smile and a pat on the head, blaming my obsession with horror movies.
Dad? Always busy. Work came first. He barely remembered my birthday last year. He'd probably forgotten today too.
Anna and Reva—my sisters—were no better. They lived their lives wrapped in makeup, boyfriends, and plans that never included me. I was just the awkward younger sister who didn't fit.
I never did. Not with them. Not with *anyone.*
But these visions… they felt more real than anything else in my life. Sometimes, I'd see a woman with strawberry-blonde hair. Her face was always blurry, but her presence brought warmth—and sorrow.
Other times, I'd hear howls echoing from nowhere. Or whispers, like wind threading through my bones. Once, I swore I understood a stray cat hissing outside my window.
That couldn't be real.
Because I'm human.
…Right?
I shoved the thought away and dragged myself to the bathroom. Just a normal morning. Just a normal girl.
Then I looked in the mirror.
And froze.
My reflection stared back, but my eyes—my *eyes*—were glowing. Not hazel. Not brown. But a deep, electric yellow.
The same color as the wolf's.
I stumbled back, heart slamming against my ribs. My breath came in short, panicked bursts.
*Oh my god. I'm losing it.*
Then—
"Rory! Breakfast is ready!"
My mom's voice cut through the fog in my brain.
I whipped my head back to the mirror.
Hazel. Just… hazel.
The yellow was gone.
My knuckles gripped the sink. My heart was still racing. I wasn't sure if I imagined it—or if I was losing my grip on reality.
A new kind of fear crept into me. Not the kind you get from watching late-night horror movies.
This was different. This was *real.*
And deep down, I knew:
Whatever was happening to me…
It had only just begun.