POV: Sookie
The woods had always terrified her.
Sookie stood at the edge of the forest, one foot planted in the safety of asphalt, the other hovering over grass that glowed silver under the moon. Her chest tightened with that old, familiar dread. The kind that whispered in her bones: turn around, go back, you don't belong here.
She had felt this way for as long as she could remember. Every time she approached the boundary between civilization and wild, something stopped her. An invisible hand pressed against her sternum, urging her toward streetlights and locked doors.
Tonight, though, she didn't listen.
The bar behind her pulsed with music and laughter, but Sookie couldn't go back inside. Not after sitting there for three hours, nursing cheap whiskey and waiting for a man who never came. Her humiliation still burned hotter than the alcohol in her veins.
She stepped forward.
The grass felt cool beneath her bare feet. Somewhere in the chaos of the evening, she had kicked off her boots and forgotten them. Those were her favorite pair. Comfortable. Broken in just right. Josh would probably find them and hold onto them for her. He always noticed things like that.
Fireflies danced ahead of her, their golden lights flickering in patterns that seemed almost deliberate. Sookie moved toward them, drawn by their glow. They lit up the wildflowers scattered through the field, casting shadows that shifted and swayed. She watched two fireflies spiral around each other before drifting off together into the darkness.
Even the bugs had someone.
Sookie swallowed hard against the tightness in her throat. She had given herself to a stranger. Let him into her bed, into her body, because something about those electric blue eyes had made her believe he might stay. He had whispered promises against her skin, words that felt like truth in the moment.
I could never be done with you.
A lie. A beautiful, cruel lie.
Her head swam. The world tilted slightly to the left, then righted itself. How much had she drunk? One glass of whiskey at the bar. Maybe two if she counted the wine at home, but that had been hours ago. This didn't feel like normal drunk. This felt wrong.
Sookie pressed her palm to her forehead, trying to steady herself. The heat radiating from her skin shocked her. She was burning up, feverish, and the cool night air did nothing to help.
Did someone drug me?
The thought sent a spike of panic through her chest. Josh had poured her drink. Josh, who she sparred with at the gym, who always watched her a little too long, who had seemed almost angry when she mentioned her date.
"How long are you going to wait for this asshole?" Josh had asked, sliding a glass across the bar toward her. His hazel eyes had flickered with something she couldn't name. Jealousy, maybe. Possessiveness.
"Not sure," she had replied, forcing a smile.
"Who is he anyway?"
Something had crossed Josh's face then. A flash of recognition, quickly hidden. But that had to be her imagination. Josh didn't know Justin. Nobody knew Justin. Hell, Sookie didn't even know Justin. She didn't know anything about the man who had left her aching and alone.
She stumbled forward, following the fireflies deeper into the field. The moon hung full and heavy overhead, washing everything in metallic light. The grass beneath her feet felt soft, inviting. She wanted to lie down in it. Roll around until the coolness seeped into her bones and stopped this fire in her blood.
Then she smelled it.
Amber. Vanilla. Pine burning somewhere far away.
The scent wrapped around her like a blanket, warm and safe and intoxicating. She had never smelled anything like it before. It made her think of home, though she had never had one. It made her think of safety, though she had never felt truly safe. Her body responded with a rush of heat that had nothing to do with fever and everything to do with want.
She moved toward the smell without thinking.
Her skin prickled. The burning sensation intensified until it felt like lava coursed through her veins instead of blood. Sookie dropped to her knees, gasping. The earth felt blessedly cool against her shins.
Breathe. Just breathe.
This had happened before. Hot flashes. Side effects from the medication she took to keep the voices quiet. Usually they passed quickly, but this one didn't. This one clawed at her insides, demanding something she couldn't name.
"Just breathe," she whispered to herself.
Get up, you stupid bitch. Mate is here. You look weak.
The voice hit her like a slap.
Katherine.
"Shh," Sookie begged, pressing her hands over her ears even though she knew it wouldn't help. "Not now. Please, not now."
Katherine was the voice in her head. The hallucination. The symptom of the schizophrenia diagnosis that had shaped her entire life. Sookie had named her years ago, a joke about the mythical prophet nobody believed. Except Katherine kept coming back, kept insisting she was real, kept talking about mates and wolves and destiny.
I am real. You need to believe me this time. Our lives depend on it.
"Please stop," Sookie whispered.
Her grandmother's voice echoed in her memory: The necklace will keep you safe from the voices. The silver moonstone pendant burned against her chest, a familiar sting that flared on full moons. Sookie had always been allergic to silver, but she wore the necklace anyway. Superstition. Desperation. The same thing, really.
She tried to focus on facts. Grounding techniques her therapist had taught her. She was twenty-four years old. She had a master's degree. She trained at an MMA gym and could pin grown men to the mat. Her mother was in a psychiatric hospital. Her father was a ghost. Her grandmother had raised her with resentment instead of love.
None of it mattered when Katherine screamed.
SOOKIE!
She opened her eyes.
Katherine stood in the field before her. A massive wolf, blueish-gray with a streak of white along one side. The white seemed to shift and change, growing or shrinking with emotion. Her eyes glowed gold like honey, fixed on Sookie with an intensity that stole her breath.
The wolf was beautiful. Striking. Everything Sookie wasn't.
Katherine howled. The sound shattered the night.
Something doesn't feel right.
"I'm drunk," Sookie said aloud, her voice shaking. "That's all. Let's just lay here. Enjoy the moon and that smell. God, I need to find that smell."
Katherine lowered herself to the ground beside Sookie, head resting on her paws. MATE. He'll come. Mate will help us. He's so close. I can feel it.
Sookie wanted to laugh. Or cry. Maybe both. Katherine had been talking about this mate for years. The wolf prince who would save them. The bond that would make everything make sense. But Katherine was a hallucination. A symptom. A broken part of Sookie's brain that refused to stay quiet, no matter how much medication she took.
I missed you too, human. Please trust me this time. Our lives depend on it. Mate is almost here. But the other wolf might be closer. He will only hurt us. How you trusted him, I have no idea.
"Trusted who?" Sookie whispered.
No answer.
The necklace burned hotter. Sookie's hand went to the pendant, clutching it like a lifeline. Her grandmother had given it to her on her thirteenth birthday with a single instruction: never take it off. It would keep the voices away.
Except it hadn't.
The fever spiked. Pain lanced through Sookie's body, sharp and sudden. She couldn't scream. Couldn't move. Could barely breathe. The world tilted again, and this time it didn't right itself.
The last thing she thought before darkness took her was that she would never drink again.
If she survived this, she would never touch alcohol for the rest of her life.