113

That night, Bavanda tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The night was unnaturally still. A heavy, suffocating silence blanketed the pack lands, thick with an unsettling sense of foreboding. Bavanda lay in bed, eyes wide open, her body restless as her mind refused to grant her sleep. The voices in her head had quieted, but they lingered at the edges of her consciousness, whispering just low enough to drive her mad.

She sighed, rubbing her temples, willing the unease away. The past few days had been a battle against herself, a battle she was losing. She was slipping—further from her pack, further from her parents, further from everything she had once known.

Her mind was torture. The voices of others were silent, but that of hers wasn't.

Memories kept racing through her mind, back and forth like some Villian flash. She couldn't shake the thoughts out of her head, the way the pack members stared at her—the look they had in their eyes.

Bavanda sucked in her breath, holding tighter to her pillow. She used to be adored by the pack, they loved her. She used to have so much energy, and always made sure everyone was happy. That was what she was known for—spreading love.

But look at her now. How could she explain the sudden change in her attitude? Attacking a pack member, that was such a a nuisance.

Bavanda tossed again. What was happening to her? Even more importantly, why was this happening to her? Why was she losing control?

A soft shuffle caught her attention. She turned to see the girl—her mysterious guest—standing by the window, her long cloak brushing the floor.

Her heart skipped. “What…what are you doing here? How did you get in?”

The girl turned to her, her face devoid of emotions. "You left the doors open.” She said simply.

Bavanda opened her mouth to say something, but the words wouldn't form. She felt goosebumps crawl up her skin at that instant, and she couldn't help but swallow.

The girl cocked her head to the side, the motion so slow that it felt creepy. "Are you scared?”

Bavanda swallowed again, the lump in her throat only getting bigger. "No. It's just that… it's just that I didn't see or hear you come in. It's sort of creepy." She said truthfully.

The girl didn't take her eyes off her. However, the next minute, her lips curved into a smile. It was the first time Bavanda had seen her smile. This totally dissipated all the tension in the room.

“I'm sorry I creeped you out." She began. “I just wanted to thank you for convincing your parents to let me stay. I truly appreciate it, and I couldn't wait until tomorrow to come show my gratitude."

"Oh!” Bavanda chuckled awkwardly. “Umm… it's okay. You don't have to thank me. I couldn't just watch you leave, it's my responsibility. But… is that really the reason you came all the way here?”

Her smile got wider, but for some reason, it started to get creepy again. "Well, you caught me there." She mumbled, chuckling. “I'm having trouble sleeping, so I just thought… I'm sorry if I disturbed you. I can leave…”

"No!” Bavanda cut her short, before she could stop herself. "No. There's…there's no need for you to leave. I can't sleep either, so I suppose you can stay. Your company is highly appreciated.” She explained.

The girl nodded. However, the next minute, she pulled open the curtains, the moon light reflecting sharply into the room.

Bavanda’s breath caught. “What are you doing?”

The girl turned slowly, a ghostly whisper leaving her lips. “They’re coming for you.”

Bavanda’s blood ran cold.

At that very moment, a distant sound made her jerk abruptly. A sharp snap. A branch breaking.

Her heart pounded against her ribs as she strained her ears. The silence stretched on again, but now it felt wrong, like the moment before a predator strikes. And then—

BOOM!

A deafening explosion shattered the stillness, sending shockwaves through the pack house. Screams erupted in the distance. Bavanda threw herself out of bed, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she ran to her window. What she saw made her blood run cold.

Shadows. Dozens of them. Figures cloaked in darkness, moving unnaturally fast, slipping between the trees like wraiths. Warriors were already engaging them, but something was wrong. The intruders didn’t move like normal werewolves. They were too fast, too fluid—almost like they weren’t bound by physical form.

The pack was under attack.

Without thinking, Bavanda bolted for the door, ignoring the instinct that screamed for her to wait. Her father had forbidden her from joining battles after her recent outbursts. But none of that mattered now. She needed to be out there. She needed to fight.

By the time she reached the training field, it was a war zone. Fires had erupted in scattered areas, casting an eerie glow against the dark figures. The scent of blood, thick and metallic, clung to the air.

Bavanda didn’t hesitate. She lunged at the first enemy she saw, her claws extending instinctively. The shadow-like creature barely reacted as she slashed through it—but instead of flesh, her claws met something strange. Resistance, then nothing. The figure dissolved into black mist before reforming behind her.

Her stomach twisted. What the hell were these things?

A snarl tore through her throat as she spun, attacking again, this time aiming for the head. The creature dodged with inhuman speed, but she was faster. Her claws raked through its chest, and this time, it collapsed into smoke and didn’t return.

Around her, warriors fought desperately, but the enemy’s unnatural nature made it nearly impossible to predict their attacks. Bavanda could hear the strained voices of her packmates, their confusion and fear evident.

Then, she felt it—something dark creeping into her mind. It wasn’t the usual whispers. This was different. It was... calling to her.

Use it, the voice whispered. Let go.

A chilling sensation crawled up her spine. Without thinking, she let the energy surge through her, and suddenly, her movements became sharper. Faster. Stronger. She dodged effortlessly, her claws glowing faintly as she struck. One by one, the creatures fell at her hands.

She was winning.

Then, she smelled it. Blood. Pack blood.

She turned sharply, and her heart nearly stopped.

A warrior—one of their own—was on the ground, barely conscious, his arm nearly severed. And standing over him was her. Claws coated in blood, eyes glowing with something inhuman.

A strangled gasp escaped her lips. No.

That wasn’t possible. She hadn’t attacked a packmate. She was fighting the enemy.

The warrior looked up at her, his expression frozen between pain and horror.

“P-Princess?” he choked out.

The world around her spun.

No. No, no, no!

She stumbled back, shaking her head. The whispers in her head laughed.

Then she heard her father’s voice.

“Bavanda. Step. Away.”

She turned slowly, dread pooling in her stomach. Baron stood at the edge of the battlefield, his expression unreadable—but his eyes... his eyes were filled with something that sent ice through her veins.

Fear.

The battle was over, but the tension in the air was suffocating. Warriors murmured among themselves, casting uneasy glances at Bavanda as they tended to the wounded. Some avoided looking at her altogether.

She stood frozen, her hands trembling as she stared at them. They were coated in blood. His blood.

Baron stepped closer, his voice low but firm. “Go inside. Now.”

She flinched. “I—I didn’t mean to. I thought—”

“Now, Bavanda.”

Something in his tone made her chest tighten.

She wanted to argue. She wanted to scream that it wasn’t her fault, that something had taken over her. But when she looked at her father, the words died in her throat.

Because he wasn’t looking at her like his daughter. He was looking at her like... a threat.

She swallowed hard, nodding stiffly before turning and walking back toward the pack house. With every step, the whispers in her head grew louder.

“She's dangerous."
“She should be sent away."
“She almost killed him, what is she turning to?"

Bavanda wished the ground would open up and swallow her at that point.

What had she done?

Hours passed. The tension in the pack house was unbearable. Bavanda could feel the unease, the way everyone moved around her as if she were a ticking bomb.

She was sitting outside on the balcony when she heard them.

Her parents. Talking about her.

“She’s getting worse,” Avynna’s voice was heavy with worry. “She hurt one of our own tonight, Baron. That’s not—”

“I know,” Baron cut in, his tone unreadable. “I saw it.”

Silence.

Then, her mother whispered, “What if we’re losing her?”

The breath left Bavanda’s lungs.

A deep, sharp ache settled in her chest, unlike anything she had ever felt before.

They were afraid of her. Her own parents.

A sharp laugh bubbled in her throat, but it was humorless.

She felt something inside her snap.

Fine. If they didn’t trust her, then she had no reason to stay.

Without hesitation, she turned and walked away, her decision solidifying with each step. She would find answers on her own.

And she would prove to everyone—including her parents—that she wasn’t a monster.

Even if she had to become one.