Page 121 of Chaos At Second Sight

I saw it. Them.

Twin punctures, permanent and deep. The flesh around them was swollen and faintly red but didn’t hurt. When I touched it again, sparks burst across my fingers.

“Mate.” A whisper sailed in from somewhere.

Lucien must’ve marked me in his human form, otherwise my head would be rolling somewhere. And thanks to his present, I’d taken a three-week nap. Another memory slammed into me.

“Amaia.” I lurched up. “Tiziano! Where are they?” My feet hit the floor, ready to run.

He stepped into my path, his arm barring the way. “Don’t. The doctor’s on her way.”

“Lachlan!” The shout ripped from my throat as something hot flared underneath my skin. “What happened? Tell me.”

“Your mate…” Lachlan exhaled. “He killed the Matenapper. Or so we think. We found pieces…”

Pieces?

“One arm and a foot. But not the rest.”

My breath hitched.

“Mate.”

The whisper returned, louder this time.

“Tiziano’s alive. Lucien ignored him.” Lachlan cleared his throat. “Someone else didn’t make it.” His skin turned white, matching the surroundings, his eyes welling up with tears that I refused to acknowledge. “Yvaine, none of us could do anything about it and⁠—”

“Who, Lachlan?” My fist closed around the bedsheet; my teeth stabbed my lip. I already knew. There were no other options.

Don’t, I contradicted myself. Don’t say it.

I wanted to prolong this moment of not knowing. As long as nobody spoke, hope still breathed, a faint flame trembling in the moonless darkness.

Right then, Lachlan was every doctor breaking tragic news to a bereaved family.

“She’s in a better place.” What place? In a coffin, in an urn, or in a refrigerator with a tag tied around a wrist?

“We did everything we could.” As if changing the wording could change death—it couldn’t. As if your heart wasn’t going to crumble at the news, as if your beloved wasn’t now a corpse, that there wouldn’t be an empty bedroom, shoes collecting dust along the wall, and a toothbrush no one would ever use again.

Amaia couldn’t have died. She was too busy with too much to give and too much to do.

I refused to believe it.

“Amaia’s alive.” It was a fact, not denial.

But then…?

Lachlan slowly shook his head. “Zelda is dead.” He grasped my hands. “I’m so sorry, sis. We didn’t know. Logan—he had no idea⁠—”

His words dissolved.

Not because of shock. Not because Zelda, a part of me, was gone.

But because something was stirring inside me. Not grief, just…someone. I’d assumed it was Zelda⁠—

“Human.” That same strange voice was clearer now.

“Yvaine! Oh Goddess, your eyes!” Lachlan stumbled backward. I ignored it, because my brain fully absorbed the realization: I had evolved into something else. Into a lycan.