Chapter 1 — The Empty Place
Chapter 1 — The Empty Place
There are two things every werewolf learns before they learn how to run.
The first is how to control their instincts.
The second is how to listen to the voice inside their head.
We call it the wolf.
Every werewolf is born with one.
It isn’t a metaphor, and it isn’t some wild animal hiding beneath our skin. The wolf is a second consciousness, born with us and growing alongside us. It has its own thoughts, its own emotions, its own memories.
And, most importantly, its own voice.
Some wolves are gentle.
Some are arrogant.
Some are cruel.
Mine has always been annoying.
“You’re going to be late.”
I kept walking.
“Mara.”
I ignored her.
“Mara, you’re definitely going to be late.”
“I’m not.”
“You looked at the clock twelve minutes ago.”
“I’ll still make it.”
“You said that twenty minutes ago.”
I sighed.
“Why do you remember things like that?”
“Because apparently one of us needs to be responsible.”
I smiled despite myself.
The forest stretched endlessly around me, its ancient trees forming a dark corridor beneath the pale morning sky. Thin strips of sunlight slipped between the branches, touching the damp ground and illuminating the narrow path beneath my boots.
I could already smell the village.
Wood smoke.
Fresh bread.
Wet earth.
And somewhere beyond the hills, the cold river that marked the northern boundary of our territory.
My wolf sighed.
“You should have transformed.”
“I don’t feel like running.”
“You never feel like running.”
“That’s because running before breakfast is torture.”
“We’re werewolves.”
“Exactly. We have enough suffering already.”
She laughed inside my head.
I loved that sound.
It was strange to think of a voice as a companion, but after twenty-one years, I couldn’t imagine my life without her.
Her name was Luna.
I hadn’t chosen it.
When I was six, I had asked my mother what my wolf’s name would be when she finally awakened. My mother had laughed and told me that wolves chose their own names.
A few months later, when I first heard the voice in my head, the answer had come immediately.
Luna.
Since then, she had been there for everything.
My first day at school.
My first fight.
My first heartbreak.
My father’s anger when I failed my first transformation.
The night my grandmother died.
She had always been there.
Sometimes she was the only one.
“You’re thinking about your grandmother again.”
I stopped smiling.
“Don’t.”
“Sorry.”
I continued walking.
The village was only another ten minutes away.
I could hear distant voices now. The morning patrol would already be returning, and the younger wolves would soon begin their training in the eastern field.
That was normal.
Everything was normal.
At least, I thought it was.
Our pack was called the Silverpine Pack, one of the oldest packs in the northern territories.
We had lived in these mountains for generations.
Humans knew nothing about us.
Or, at least, that was what we believed.
We looked human.
We went to human schools.
We used human technology.
We had jobs, cars, phones, bank accounts and houses.
But beneath all of that was another world.
A world of Alphas and Betas.
Of pack laws and ancient traditions.
Of transformations beneath the full moon.
And of mates.
Every werewolf knew about mates.
The bond was one of the oldest laws of our kind.
Every wolf was supposed to have one person in the world who belonged to them in a way nobody else could understand.
Some called it fate.
Others called it destiny.
Our elders called it a biological bond.
I had never cared what they called it.
I just knew I didn’t have one.
At twenty-one, that was becoming difficult to hide.
Most wolves discovered their mate sometime between their first transformation and their twenty-first birthday.
I had turned twenty-one three months ago.
Nothing happened.
No bond.
No pull.
No mysterious voice.
Nothing.
“Stop thinking about it.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
“You spend too much time inside my head.”
“That’s literally where I live.”
I laughed.
Then she stopped.
The change was so sudden that I almost stumbled.
“Luna?”
No answer.
I slowed down.
Something was wrong.
The forest had become quiet.
Not peacefully quiet.
Empty.
The birds had stopped singing.
The insects had disappeared.
Even the wind seemed to have vanished.
I looked around.
“What is it?”
Silence.
“Luna?”
Nothing.
My smile disappeared.
I closed my eyes and reached for her.
Usually, finding her was effortless.
She was always there, somewhere behind my thoughts.
A second presence.
A familiar warmth.
This time, I found nothing.
My eyes opened.
“Luna?”
Still nothing.
A cold sensation moved through my chest.
“No.”
I stopped in the middle of the path.
This couldn’t happen.
Wolves didn’t disappear.
They could sleep.
They could become quiet.
They could retreat deep into the subconscious during severe trauma.
But they couldn’t simply...
vanish.
“Luna!”
Nothing.
I reached for her again.
Harder.
I pushed every thought aside.
I searched through my own mind.
Nothing.
There was no voice.
No presence.
No warmth.
Just an enormous, terrifying emptiness.
I couldn’t breathe.
“Luna?”
My voice came out as a whisper.
Nothing answered.
For twenty-one years, I had never been alone inside my own mind.
Until now.
I turned around and ran.
I didn’t care about being late anymore.
Branches struck my arms as I sprinted through the forest.
My boots slipped on wet ground.
I nearly fell twice.
I didn’t stop.
Something was wrong with me.
Something had happened.
And somehow, I knew it had happened here.
The thought made me stop.
I looked behind me.
The path was empty.
But then I smelled it.
Blood.
Fresh blood.
My stomach tightened.
I followed the scent.
It led deeper into the forest, away from the village.
Every instinct in my body told me to turn around.
I ignored it.
The smell became stronger.
Then I saw the trees ahead.
One of them was covered in scratches.
Four deep marks ran down the bark.
I stepped closer.
They weren’t wolf marks.
They were too deep.
Too large.
I touched them.
A sharp pain shot through my fingers.
I pulled my hand away.
Blood appeared on my palm.
But it wasn’t mine.
The blood was black.
I stared at it.
“What the hell...?”
Something moved behind me.
I turned.
Nothing.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
“Who’s there?”
No answer.
Then I heard a voice.
Not Luna.
A man’s voice.
Deep.
Distant.
Almost exhausted.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
I froze.
The voice hadn’t come from the forest.
It had come from inside my head.
My mouth went dry.
“Who are you?”
Silence.
I looked around.
“Where are you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“How are you talking to me?”
A pause.
Then:
“Where is your wolf?”
My blood ran cold.
I took a step backward.
“How do you know about my wolf?”
The voice didn’t answer.
Instead, I heard something that sounded almost like a whisper.
“They found you.”
“Who?”
“The ones who took her.”
My breathing stopped.
“What did you say?”
“Run.”
The voice disappeared.
A second later, I heard something else.
A howl.
Not far away.
I ran.
This time, I didn’t care where I was going.
I sprinted toward the village.
By the time I reached the first houses, my lungs were burning.
People were already outside.
A few wolves looked at me strangely.
“Mara?”
I ignored them.
I ran toward my house.
The front door was open.
My heart sank.
“Mom?”
No answer.
I stepped inside.
The house was silent.
Too silent.
“Mom?”
My mother’s voice came from the kitchen.
“Mara?”
Relief washed over me.
I rushed toward her.
She stood beside the counter.
The moment she saw my face, however, her expression changed.
She went pale.
“What happened?”
I tried to answer.
Nothing came out.
She walked toward me.
Then she stopped.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Mara...”
“What?”
She stared at me as if she were looking at a stranger.
“Where is your wolf?”
My heart dropped.
“I don’t know.”
My mother’s face lost what little color remained.
She looked toward the hallway.
“Your father needs to know.”
“Why?”
She didn’t answer.
“Mom.”
She grabbed my shoulders.
“Did you hear anything?”
“What?”
“Another voice.”
I stared at her.
“What do you mean?”
Her hands began trembling.
“Mara, answer me.”
I remembered the voice.
You shouldn’t be here.
They found you.
I swallowed.
“Yes.”
My mother closed her eyes.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she whispered:
“Oh God.”
The front door opened.
My father entered.
He stopped the moment he saw me.
His eyes went directly to my mother.
She nodded once.
My father’s face hardened.
“What did you hear?”
I stared at him.
“You knew?”
Neither of them answered.
“You knew this could happen?”
My father walked toward me.
“Mara, listen carefully.”
His voice was different.
Not angry.
Not commanding.
Afraid.
“You need to leave the house.”
“What?”
“Now.”
A low growl came from outside.
My father froze.
My mother grabbed my arm.
Another growl followed.
Then another.
Three distinct voices.
My father moved between me and the front door.
“Mara,” he whispered, “whatever happens, don’t let them see you.”
The door exploded inward.
Wood shattered.
Three figures stood outside.
Werewolves.
Their eyes glowed beneath the moonlight.
The largest one stepped inside.
He sniffed the air.
His expression changed.
Confusion.
Then fear.
He looked directly at me.
“No wolf.”
The other two stared at me.
One of them whispered:
“Impossible.”
The first wolf slowly lowered himself to one knee.
Then the other two followed.
I stared at them.
“What are you doing?”
The first wolf looked at my father.
“You didn’t tell her.”
My father said nothing.
The wolf looked back at me.
His voice trembled.
“Your wolf isn’t missing.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Then where is she?”
The wolf lowered his head.
“She’s dead.”
The world seemed to stop.
I couldn’t breathe.
“No.”
My mother covered her mouth.
My father closed his eyes.
I shook my head.
“No. That’s impossible.”
The stranger looked at me with something that looked almost like pity.
“Your wolf was never supposed to die.”
He looked at the black mark spreading across my palm.
“But someone killed her.”
The mark burned.
And somewhere deep inside my empty mind, the mysterious man’s voice returned.
This time, it was clearer.
Closer.
Almost beside me.
“I didn’t kill her.”
I froze.
“I was trying to save her.”
The stranger outside suddenly looked toward the forest.
His eyes widened.
“He’s here.”
My father whispered:
“No...”
A howl echoed through the mountains.
Every werewolf outside dropped to their knees.
And for the first time in my life, I understood something terrifying.
Whatever had just entered our territory...
was afraid of nothing.
Not the Alpha.
Not the pack.
Not even death.
And somehow, it had been waiting for me.
