The Seal

Curled up in bed, my knees pressed to my chest, I held an old, faded envelope in my hands. The paper trembled at my touch, as though the words it carried weren’t mere ink, but destiny itself. My heart thudded, counting each second. The envelope wasn’t sealed, yet some invisible weight—fear, hesitation, perhaps both—kept me from opening it. Just as I slid my fingers beneath the flap, Nilis…

Like a shadow, he appeared. He darted forward, snatched the letter from my grasp, and slipped out of the room before I could even blink. My stepbrother. But in that moment, he felt less like family and more like a predator stealing my breath. I jumped to my feet, legs moving on their own, chasing him.

In the living room, Nilis handed the letter to my stepmother, Özde, flashing me a triumphant grin.

Anger burned in my throat as I shouted, “That letter’s mine! Give it back!”

Özde’s expression was cool, almost bored. She unfolded the letter, her lips twisting into a mocking smile as her eyes flicked over the page.

“Well, well. Looks like someone wrote a love letter to our little extra here.”

My fury boiled over. “That letter is none of your business! You’re not even my mother, Özde!”

Nilis plucked the letter from her hands and began tearing it to shreds. His smirk deepened as he said, “Don’t forget—you’re living in our house. You might want to watch your tone.”

He tossed the scraps of paper in my face. My eyes stung, but I refused to cry in front of them. I turned away, stormed to the door, and slammed it behind me. The house was no home—just a place I was forced to endure.

The farther I walked, the softer the ground became—concrete giving way to brittle leaves. The forest waited, dark and silent, like fate itself.

I had nowhere else to go. Without my phone, I couldn’t even reach Asya, my best friend.

I lifted my gaze to the sky. The full moon reigned above, bathing the forest in silver light. The restlessness clawing at me eased, if only for a moment. I walked on, deeper and deeper, losing track of how far I’d gone. The night was alive with the rustle of wings and the whispers of unseen creatures.

Then—my ears caught it.

A sound that didn’t belong.

Not normal. Not ordinary.

A howl, low and shivering, the kind that haunted every story whispered by firelight.

It wasn’t a wolf.

And one thought struck like lightning:

“This creature… is alone.”

The realization chilled me. Too close. Far too close. Panic surged as snarls and heavy steps echoed around me. I ran, blind with fear, until a massive black wolf blocked my path. My scream split the night as I spun and bolted in the opposite direction.

But it was faster. Much faster.

It lunged, knocking me to the ground.

Its muzzle brushed against my cheek, breath hot against my skin. Crimson eyes locked with mine, and for a moment, impossibly, I felt calm. Hypnotized. Maybe it wasn’t going to hurt me.

But then it struck. Its fangs sank deep into my shoulder. Pain tore a scream from my throat. Blood spilled, staining the earth. My vision blurred, and darkness swallowed me whole.

When I awoke, I was in my room. I tried to sit up, a broken groan escaping me. My shoulder throbbed. My shirt was ripped, shredded where the beast had bitten.

But the wound… was gone.

In its place remained only a scar.

Not a scar—a mark.

A circle enclosing a strange triangle, its corners bound by small rings.

Unfamiliar, yet it pulsed with something I felt deep inside me.

I didn’t know its meaning, but I could feel it: a power awakening in my veins.

I ran to school faster than I’d ever thought possible. When I checked the clock, only five minutes remained before class. Impossible. I shoved the thought aside and slipped into the classroom. The teacher hadn’t arrived yet. I dropped into my usual seat at the back.

Asya sat beside me, her chalk-white skin, jet-black hair, and crimson-flecked eyes glimmering like embers in the dark. She waved.

Everyone called her strange; I sometimes teased her as “the vampire girl.” Sometimes she laughed, sometimes she bristled.

She smiled faintly now and said, “What happened? You used to get here fifteen minutes early. Now you’re cutting it close.”

“I’ll tell you at recess,” I whispered.

Asya tilted her head, a knowing look in her eyes.

“As you wish, Karmen.”