Chapter 17
Riley stood frozen, Callum's words lingering in the air like smoke thick, suffocating, impossible to ignore.
"I want you to stop fighting who you are."
Her pulse was too loud, her breath too fast. Her body still thrummed with the leftover adrenaline from their exchange, her claws just beginning to retreat.
She should have been disgusted.
She should have stepped back, pushed him away, and told him to go to hell.
But she didn't.
Because the worst part?
She felt it.
That dangerous, unspoken truth curled in her chest like a secret she hadn't been ready to admit.
She was changing.
And maybe just maybe Callum wasn't wrong.
Her throat was dry as she forced herself to speak. "And if I don't stop fighting?"
Callum's smirk softened just barely. "Then you'll break."
The certainty in his voice sent a shiver through her.
And for the first time, she wondered if she already was breaking.
She sucked in a breath, stepping away from him, needing space, needing something real to hold on to. The cold air bit at her skin, grounding her, but it wasn't enough.
Nothing was enough.
Because no matter how much she tried to shove it down, to push the truth away
A part of her wanted to let go.
A part of her wanted to know what she was.
Callum didn't chase her when she stepped back. He just watched, golden eyes flickering with something close to understanding.
"That's the thing about instincts," he murmured. "You can only fight them for so long."
Riley clenched her jaw, forcing herself to meet his gaze.
"I'm not like you," she said, her voice steadier than she felt.
Callum's smirk returned, slow and knowing.
"Not yet."
A sharp, bitter laugh bubbled in her throat, but she swallowed it down. She couldn't let him get under her skin not now. Not when everything inside her was already splintering apart.
She turned away from him, forcing her breathing to slow.
But as she did
Her reflection caught her eye.
A pool of water rested between the roots of an ancient tree, dark and glassy beneath the moonlight. At first, it was just a trick of the light, just her tired face staring back at her.
But then
The reflection shifted.
Her breath caught.
Because it wasn't her.
Not really.
The eyes staring back at her weren't her usual stormy gray. They were darker.
Hungrier.
Something moved beneath the surface of her skin, subtle but wrong, like something waiting just beneath the surface, waiting for her to slip, to let go.
The ground swayed under her feet.
No.
No, this wasn't real.
She wasn't
A hand brushed against her shoulder.
She jumped, spinning sharply, her claws flashing out before she could stop them.
Callum didn't flinch.
He just looked at her, gaze unwavering. "You see it now, don't you?"
Riley swallowed hard, her heartbeat a wild, uneven rhythm against her ribs.
Because God help her
She did.
And she wasn't sure she could stop it.
Or if she even wanted to.
Riley's breathing was unsteady and uneven.
The reflection in the water still stared back at her, its too-dark eyes gleaming with something not her own.
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing it to disappear.
It's not real.
But when she opened them again
The reflection was still there.
Her chest tightened, something sharp and cold crawling beneath her skin.
Something was wrong.
Something was waiting.
Callum's voice was quiet, careful. "You feel it, don't you?"
Riley's fingers curled into fists. "I don't"
But she couldn't finish the sentence.
Because it would be a lie.
She did feel it.
That hollow space inside her, the creeping sensation that something was missing, something unfinished.
Or worse
Something waiting to wake up.
Callum stepped closer, slow, deliberate. "You're on the edge, Riley. I can see it."
Her stomach twisted. "And you like that, don't you?"
Callum smirked. "I like the truth."
Her jaw clenched. "And what truth is that?"
His golden eyes gleamed. "That you're not afraid of becoming something else."
Riley's pulse spiked.
Because the worst part?
The part she couldn't deny?
A small, traitorous piece of her wasn't afraid at all.
She took a sharp step back, trying to shove the thought away. "I don't need you in my head, Callum."
He let out a low chuckle. "You think I need to be in your head? You're already asking yourself the question."
Her breath caught.
Because he was right.
God.
He was right.
She turned away from him, staring at the ground, trying to breathe through the wildfire spreading beneath her skin.
She wasn't like him.
She wasn't.
She couldn't be.
But then why did it feel so right?
Callum didn't press her for an answer. He didn't need to.
Instead, his voice softened almost carefully.
"You don't have to fight it, Riley."
Her throat tightened.
She wasn't sure if he meant the change.
Or him.
And she wasn't sure which terrified her more.
Riley could still feel the shift. The way her body had reacted, instinct taking over before she even had time to think.
It felt too natural.
Too easy.
And Callum had seen it.
She forced herself to focus, to steady her breath. "I don't want this," she whispered, but the words felt thin, fragile.
Callum tilted his head, studying her with those sharp golden eyes. "Don't you?"
Riley's stomach twisted.
She wanted to say no.
She wanted to shove all of this away, to pretend she was still just the girl she had been before.
But that girl was gone.
She had been gone since the night Kieran had saved her-since the moment he had made that choice for her.
And now?
Now, she was something else entirely.
Callum took another step closer, his voice quieter now. "You can lie to yourself, Riley. But your body already knows the truth."
Her breath caught.
Because he was right.
Again.
She could feel it deep in her bones, in her blood, in the way her body itched to move, to fight, to let go.
It wasn't just instincts.
It was who she was now.
And she had spent too long running from it.
Callum's voice was softer this time. "You're afraid."
Riley swallowed hard. "Of what?"
His smirk faded, and for the first time, there was something real in his expression.
"You're afraid that you want this."
The words hit harder than she expected.
Because God help her
He wasn't wrong.
She wanted to scream, to deny it, to fight it.
But she couldn't.
Because in the quiet, broken pieces of herself, in the space between fear and fury
A small, treacherous part of her wanted to know what she could become.
Wanted to stop holding back.
Wanted to let go.
Riley's breath was shaky as she met Callum's gaze.
He already knew her answer.
And that terrified her more than anything.
Riley took a step back, the weight of Callum's words settling deep into her chest.
She wanted to deny it to fight it but every time she tried, the truth was there, staring her in the face.
She wanted to know what she was capable of.
She wanted to stop feeling like she was drowning in something she didn't understand.
She wanted control.
And Callum?
He knew it.
She forced herself to meet his gaze. "And what if you're wrong?" she whispered, her voice hoarse. "What if I don't want this?"
Callum's golden eyes gleamed with something unreadable. "Then why are you still here?"
Her breath caught.
Because she had the chance to run.
She could've turned around, walked back to Kieran and Nova, let them talk her down, fix her before she went too far.
But she hadn't.
She was still standing here.
Still listening.
Still considering it.
And that scared her more than anything.
Callum took another step closer, his voice softer now. "You can keep lying to yourself, Riley. Or you can stop being afraid."
Her hands shook.
Because wasn't that the real problem?
She was afraid.
Not just of what was happening to her.
But of what she wanted.
Her body had recognized this power before she had. It had moved without hesitation, without doubt.
It had felt right.
And she wasn't sure she wanted to fight that anymore.
A cold shiver crawled up her spine.
Callum smiled, but it wasn't mocking this time. It was something closer to knowing.
"You don't have to run from this," he murmured. "You just have to decide."
Riley exhaled slowly, staring at him, at the place where her reflection had been in the water.
At the girl who had already started to disappear.
At the monster she was becoming.
And the worst part?
She wasn't sure she hated it.
Not anymore.