CHAPTER 85: WHY DID I FREEZE?

Kaya

A ghoul.

Now that I’ve seen one before, I recognize it instantly. Maybe the first time, my perception was clouded by shock—but this time, there’s no mistaking what I’m looking at. It doesn’t appear as a formless, floating mass like before. No, this one is a fully-formed creature.

And its appearance is horrifying.

The ghoul before me towers tall, its body skeletal and grotesque. A long, bald head stretches over a sunken face, with two empty hollows where eyes should be—black voids that seem to stare right through me. Its mouth gapes wide, filled with four jagged rows of teeth, each one glistening with black, viscous saliva. The jaw pulses open and shut, as if sucking the very air into its rotting lungs.

It stands on two malformed feet, its long, brittle legs bent at unnatural angles, the joints twisted in opposite directions. Its chest juts forward, grotesquely broad, with strips of ashen, leathery skin hanging down like torn rags.

Its arms are long and uneven, dangling lifelessly at its sides—until the thin, clawed fingers begin to twitch, faintly, like they’re itching to rake across flesh.

Despite how close it is, I’m not afraid.

But I am confused.

Not because this ghoul looks different—but because it smells

different.

The stench of rotting flesh hits me first, thick and foul like something dug out of a swamp. But underneath that, there’s something else. Something painfully familiar, yet utterly indecipherable.

’Kaya?’ Magnus’s voice breaks through the mind link, sharp with concern. ’Move aside—I’ll handle it.’

I hear a twig snap beneath his heavy paw and snap back to the present, blinking rapidly. ’No... I want to try it,’ I answer, my voice steadier than I feel.

’Are you sure?’ he asks.

But this time, I don’t know if I can say yes.

I don’t know where Kaya ends and Rana begins. I don’t know whose thoughts are steering my actions now—whose instincts I’m about to obey. Strangely, it feels like I don’t know anything at all.

The ghoul takes a lumbering step toward me, its decaying, pallid body quivering as if even that single movement is almost too much. And yet, I don’t move. I can’t move. My body doesn’t feel like mine anymore—like I’ve become a puppet with cut strings.

’Kaya...?’ Magnus calls again, his voice reaching me through the mind link—but it sounds far away now, distant and hollow, as if echoing from another world.

So I don’t respond. I just stand there, frozen and dazed, as the creature bares its jagged teeth at me. Thick black mucus oozes from its maw, dripping onto its skeletal feet.

Then—without the slightest warning—the ghoul lunges.

Its speed is unnatural, blinding. I don’t even register the motion before I’m slammed flat on my back, the air knocked out of me. Its weight pins me down, hands and feet locking me beneath it, long, jagged nails driving into my skin like tiny daggers.

’Kaya, move! Attack! It’s just a ghoul!’

Magnus’s voice bursts through again, more urgent now—but the words don’t make sense. They don’t reach me. It’s like I’ve been severed from my own brain, the connection to thought and will completely gone.

I feel like I’m floating above my own body, watching helplessly from some other place—an out-of-body experience that leaves me paralyzed and powerless.

And the creature knows it.

It feels my detachment—my helplessness.Because a heartbeat later, a searing pain explodes in my left ankle, and the ghoul lets out a horrific, guttural cry—a sound so raw and violent it feels like it splits the forest air apart.

’Kaya!’

Magnus’s roar cuts through the haze like a blade. The sheer force of it snaps me out of my stupor. In a blur, he charges the creature and slams into it, sending its grotesque body flying into the trunk of a pine tree. The impact is sickening, its spine bending at an unnatural angle—but Magnus doesn’t stop there.

With one clean, brutal swipe of his paw, his claws tear straight through the ghoul’s bloated chest, ripping its upper body clean off the twisted spine.

A spray of thick, black fluid bursts into the air, splattering across the tree bark and the grass around us. The stench hits me like a punch to the gut—rotten, acidic, unholy. I gag instantly, doubling over as nausea claws its way up my throat. Every breath is a battle not to vomit.

Only then do I realize I’ve somehow shifted back to my human form. The grass beneath me scrapes against my bare skin like a hundred tiny blades, each movement raw and jarring.

"For fuck’s sake, Kaya!" Magnus is kneeling beside me now, his voice equal parts anger and concern. He’s shifted too, sweat glistening on his muscular chest, his palm warm and steady as it glides over my arched back.

"Why did you freeze after telling me you’d handle it?"

I try to answer, but my mouth is slack, saliva slipping past my lips as I collapse fully onto the ground. My elbows buckle beneath me. Words drift at the edge of my thoughts, but I can’t catch a single one.

Why did I freeze?

I shut my eyes, desperate to summon clarity—but all I see is blood.

Gloria’s bloodied body.

My wolf, hunched over her, jaws clamped around her arm, blood roaring with the need to kill.

Magnus’s torn chest—his human form kneeling in surrender as my rage overtook him.

And that pack.

That cursed pack. All of them... dead because of me.

"Kaya, you’re hurt." Magnus’s voice breaks through the rising wall of my frustration—calm, but heavy with concern. And just like that, I feel it too.

My ankle—the one the ghoul snapped so effortlessly—is twisted at an unnatural angle, already swollen and flushed with an angry purple hue. The pain blooms sharp and unrelenting, like fire curling around bone.

"Let’s just... go back to the pack house," I whisper, trying to keep my voice steady, as if sheer willpower can dull the burning ache crawling up my leg.

Magnus shakes his head, eyes flicking to the treetops and then back to me, firm and decisive.

"We’re too far from the house. Hold on—I know what to do."

Before I can protest, he moves with swift precision, lifting me onto his back with effortless strength. In the next heartbeat, his form shifts, fur exploding over muscle as his massive wolf emerges beneath me. He gives a sharp shake of his body, urging me to hold onto him.

’Wrap your arms around my neck and don’t let go. It won’t take long.’

His voice brushes against my mind, deeper and more primal in this form. I obey without hesitation, looping my arms around his thick neck and gripping tightly.

And then, he runs.

And the forest blurs.

We tear through the underbrush like a streak of wind—faster than I’ve ever seen him move, faster than I thought possible. The wind lashes against my skin, needles of cold and adrenaline sharpening every second as we race through the trees.