Page 55 of The Midnight Death Match

“Not possible. She?—”

“The coven your pack still works with experimented for years—seeking ways to control the curse, to expand the bloodline’s strength. Most of their subjects died. Or worse. But your mother survived. Rare, exceptionally rare.”

“You’re wrong.”

He steps closer, voice tightening like a secret slipping loose. “She became something the pack never intended—something the witches feared. A wolf who carried human will. When she met your father, her altered blood mixed with his hunter line.”

The pulse in my ears drowns out everything else.

“Wait.” I stare at him, heart pounding at double speed. “Are you saying… I was never supposed to exist?”

Lys’s eyes gleam faintly in the dim light. “No. You were neverdesignedto exist. There’s a difference.”

I swallow hard. The ground feels unsteady beneath my feet.

“You are not just hunter, Eira. Not just wolf. You are what the curse cannot predict.” His voice dips even lower. “That’s precisely why they fear you.”

A sick weight coils in my stomach.

Everything I thought I was—how I fit into this curse—shifts like sand. My mother’s nature, her choice to leave, everything I believed about how doomed this path was… suddenly it feels smaller.

And far, far more dangerous.

Lys watches my silence like a patient hunter. “You aren’t bound by the old rules. The question is, will you allow others to keep writing them for you?”

I don’t answer, and we manage to fall farther back from the others. Every so often, Lys glances at me with an expression I can’t quite read. It’s somewhere between concern and curiosity. I can’t tell where he lands.

If Harek were with me instead of him, he would comfort me. But obviously, I can’t expect that from a fae I’ve barely known.

We eventually reach the camp as dusk settles, but I hardly feel the cold.

Harek catches my arm the moment I stop. “You’re quiet.”

“I’m thinking.”

He studies me for a breath, like he can sense the storm swirling beneath my skin.

I can’t hold it back but am careful to keep my voice even. “Harek. Did you know my mother wasn’t born wolf?”

His brow furrows. “What?”

“Did you know she was bitten?” My voice tightens. “Turned. The pack’s coven experimented on her, and she survived. That’s why she survived… why I exist.”

His eyes widen, confusion flashing quickly into something sharper. “Who told you that?”

“Lys.”

“Of course he did.” Harek’s jaw clenches. “And you believe him?”

I search his face, willing him to deny it with certainty, but I see only hurt and frustration. And fear I’ve never wanted to put there.

“I don’t want to believe anything. I only want the truth.”

His voice drops. “My parents never told me anything like that. I swear to you, this is the first I’ve heard of it—if it’s even true.” He glares in Lys’s direction. “How would he know, anyway?”

“But it’s possible,” I press. “Isn’t it?”

He hesitates.

---