The abandoned church stood crooked in the crimson moonlight, its broken steeple clawing at the sky. Jake's bare feet sank into the damp earth as he approached, Mark close behind with the silver dagger—the one from his visions.
"She said the curse could be broken here," Jake muttered, his skin still burning from the last transformation.
A howl cut through the night. Closer this time.
Inside, the air smelled of rust and old magic. Scratches covered the walls—centuries of trapped beasts fighting their fate. At the altar, a figure waited.
The woman from his visions. Her silver hair glowed in the moonlight, eyes too old for her face. "You came," she said. "But the alpha comes too."
As if summoned, the black werewolf exploded through the stained-glass ruins. Mark raised the dagger—but the woman moved faster. With a snarl, she changed.
Not into a wolf.
Something worse.
Her body twisted, bones cracking like dry wood, until a monstrous hybrid of woman and beast stood before them. The true alpha. The first.
"The ritual requires blood," she hissed. "Yours... or his."
Jake looked at Mark. At the dagger. At the beast that had cursed him and made his choice.
