The forest didn't breathe for a long, terrible moment.
Evelyn's knees were buried in snow, her hands trembling as weak moonlight flickered across her skin. The world around her was silent—too silent—like the land itself was holding its breath.
Ronan stood frozen, half-shifted, chest heaving, eyes locked on the faint remnants of shadow curling around Evelyn's wrists.
The shadows faded… but not fully.
They clung to her like smoke that refused to disperse.
"Evie."Ronan's voice was low, raw, strained from holding in a panic even he couldn't hide.
Evelyn lifted her gaze to him—and the guilt in her eyes nearly broke him.
"I didn't choose him," she whispered immediately. "I didn't. I chose you, Ronan—I chose the light—"
He didn't move.
That scared her more than any shadow.Ronan never froze. Never hesitated.
But now he looked like he'd been cut open.
"Then why…" he said, voice rough, "do the shadows still touch you?"
Evelyn looked down at her hands—and her breath hitched.Veins of faint violet-black still glowed beneath her skin, like stardust trapped in her bloodstream.
"I—I don't know," she breathed. "Maybe the transition—maybe it needs time—"
But even as she spoke, her voice faltered.
Because she remembered what the Shadow Father had told her.
The light only cleanses what you let go of.She hadn't known what that meant.
Now she feared she did.
Ronan finally moved—slowly—approaching her like she was torture and salvation at once.
"You're shaking," he murmured. "You need warmth."
She reached for him.
But he stopped her hand before it touched his chest.
Evelyn froze.A cold spear of dread slid down her spine.
"…Ronan?"
His jaw clenched. His eyes flickered, torn between love and fear.
"I don't want to hurt you," he said quietly.
"Hurt me?" she whispered. "You never—"
"That thing marked your soul, Evie. I don't know what touching you will do. I don't know if I'll make it worse. I don't—"
She didn't let him finish.
Evelyn grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand to her heart.
"Feel," she whispered fiercely. "Please."
There was a pause—A heartbeat—The entire world balancing on the edge of his decision.
Then Ronan finally closed his eyes.His palm rested against her chest.
Her heartbeat thudded beneath his hand.
Normal. Steady. Hers.
He exhaled shakily. The tension drained from his shoulders.
"Gods, Evie…"His voice cracked."You're still here."
She leaned into him. "I'm not going anywhere."
Ronan wrapped his arms around her then—crushing, desperate, relieved—but careful, as though she might break into shadow if held too tightly.
She buried her face against him, breathing him in—warmth, pine, the steady grounding scent that had always pulled her back to herself.
But the moment was fragile.
Because even in Ronan's embrace…
The shadows still whispered at the edges of her mind.
****************************************************************************************
Branches snapped behind them. Snow crunched.Ronan stiffened instantly, angling his body in front of hers.
The pack burst into the clearing—wolves and warriors both—stopping short the second they saw Ronan's half-shifted form and Evelyn clinging to him.
"Alpha!" Axel shouted, sword drawn. "What—what happened? We felt the ground shake all the way in the village!"
Ronan didn't answer.
He was staring at Evelyn's shoulder.
At the glowing sigil—the Shadow Father's mark—slowly reappearing through her skin like ink rising to the surface.
Evelyn followed his gaze.
Her heart plummeted.
Not again.
Ronan's power surged so sharply that snow lifted off the ground in a violent ring.
Axel flinched."Alpha—!"
Ronan turned his head slightly."Everyone," he growled, "back. Away from her."
Evelyn jolted as though she'd been slapped.
"Ronan—"
He didn't look at her, his voice dropping to that terrifying command Alpha tone.
"No one touches her. No one gets near her. Not until I understand what that thing did."
Evelyn's chest squeezed painfully.
He wasn't angry at her—she knew that.He was terrified.
But it still cut deep.
Axel swallowed. "Alpha, we should take her to the healers—"
"No." Ronan's voice vibrated with power. "They can't help with this. Not this."
Engine-like growls rippled through the pack. Some wolves backed up instinctively; others lowered their heads in submission.
Evelyn forced herself to stand.
"Ronan," she said softly. "Look at me."
He did.
And she wished he hadn't—because in his eyes she saw something she had never seen before.
Fear.
Not of the shadows.
Of losing her.
"I'll fix it," she whispered, stepping closer. "I can learn to control it. I chose the light—"
"But darkness still answers when you breathe," he whispered back. "That should be impossible."
He cupped her face—gentle, trembling, desperate.
"You're becoming something that doesn't exist in our histories, Evelyn. Something not even the Moon Goddess warned about."
The pack watched silently, uneasily.
Evelyn swallowed.
"So what am I becoming?"
Ronan brushed his thumb across her cheek.
His answer was barely a breath.
"I don't know."
The wind howled through the clearing.
Cold.
Ominous.
And Evelyn realized— wound by wound, choice by choice—
This wasn't just about choosing light or shadow anymore.
Something inside her was changing.
And the world wasn't ready.