Dacian's POV
The voice from the crack in the earth makes every hair on my body stand up.
"Run!" I shout at everyone. "Get away from that thing!"
But nobody moves. We're all frozen, staring at the glowing red crack that's splitting my front yard in half. The voice comes again, louder this time, shaking the ground beneath our feet.
"Primordials. I've waited so long to taste you again."
Kieran, the massive white wolf, backs away from the crack, his red eyes wide with something I never expected to see from a creature that powerful.
Fear.
"Seraphine," he growls. "We need to close it. Now."
But Seraphine—or Sloane, or whoever she is now—just stares at the crack like she's seeing a ghost. "I know that voice," she whispers through my wife's mouth. "From the old wars. From before we went to sleep."
"Who is it?" Theron demands. He and Calix have moved to stand on either side of Sloane, their bodies tense and ready to fight. Even though they're naked and confused, their protective instincts have kicked in.
That's when I realize something that makes my stomach drop.
They're already acting like her mates.
"His name is Malachar," Seraphine says, her voice shaking. "He's a Devourer. An ancient entity that feeds on Primordial power. We locked him away millennia ago, sealed him in the void between worlds." She looks at Kieran with pure fury. "And you just broke the seal by waking all four of us at once, you fool!"
Kieran's ears flatten. "I didn't know! The Convergence was supposed to be a myth!"
"Myths exist for a reason!" Seraphine shouts.
The crack widens. I can see something moving down there in the red light. Something massive and wrong.
"Everybody get inside the house!" I order, falling back on my Alpha instincts even though I can barely feel my wolf anymore. "Now!"
This time, they listen. Kieran shifts into human form—a tall man with white hair and those same blood-red eyes—and we all run for the front door. But before we can reach it, tendrils of darkness shoot up from the crack.
They wrap around Sloane's ankle.
She screams. Not Seraphine's ancient voice—Sloane's voice. My wife's voice.
"Sloane!" I grab her arms and pull, but the tendril is impossibly strong. It's dragging her backward toward the crack.
Theron and Calix grab her too, all three of us pulling against whatever horror is trying to take her. Kieran runs to the crack and slashes at the tendril with claws that appear on his hands, but it doesn't even slow down.
"Let her go!" I roar.
The voice laughs. "Why would I let go of my favorite meal? Four Primordials, all connected by mate bonds. Do you know how much power I'll gain from devouring you?"
More tendrils shoot up, wrapping around Theron and Calix. Then one grabs me around the waist. We're all caught now, all being dragged toward that glowing crack.
"The bonds!" Seraphine shouts, and now she sounds terrified. "He's using the mate bonds to pull us in! We're all connected, so if he catches one, he catches all!"
"Then break the bonds!" Kieran yells back, slashing uselessly at the tendrils.
"I can't! They're too new, too strong! And Sloane's bond with Dacian might be broken but it's still there, still tying them together!"
We're getting closer to the crack. I can feel heat radiating from it now, and the red light is so bright it hurts my eyes. Below us, I can see something rising. Something with too many mouths and no face and darkness that moves like it's alive.
"There has to be a way to stop this!" Calix shouts. He's fighting the hardest, his muscles straining as he tries to pull Sloane away from the crack.
Seraphine's eyes flash silver. "There is one way. But Sloane won't like it."
"I don't care what I like!" Sloane's voice breaks through. She's fighting Seraphine for control again. "Just do it! Save them!"
"If I do this, you'll lose everything you were," Seraphine warns. "The human life you built. The memories of being normal. All of it gets burned away when I take full control."
"She said do it!" I snap. We're five feet from the crack now. Four feet.
Seraphine closes her eyes. "I'm sorry, little one."
Then power explodes out of Sloane's body.
It's like watching the sun go supernova. Silver light pours from her skin, so bright I have to look away. The tendrils holding us scream—actually scream—and release us. We all fall backward onto the grass.
When the light fades, Sloane is floating three feet off the ground. Her eyes are pure silver now, no pupils at all. Her auburn hair is moving even though there's no wind. And the air around her crackles with so much power that my broken wolf whimpers in my chest.
"Malachar," she says, and her voice echoes like a thousand people speaking at once. "You made a mistake."
The thing in the crack hisses. "You're not strong enough to fight me, little Primordial. Not even fully awakened."
"You're right." Seraphine smiles, and it's terrifying. "But I'm not alone."
She reaches out toward Theron and Calix. They both gasp as silver light forms around them too. Their eyes turn silver. Their bodies rise off the ground.
"What's happening to them?" I demand.
"They're waking up," Kieran says quietly. He sounds sad. "Their Primordial selves. Their true forms."
Theron's body convulses. When he screams, it's not pain—it's power breaking free. His wolf explodes out of him, but it's not the normal black wolf I've seen before. This wolf is huge, covered in bronze scales instead of fur, with eyes that burn like fire.
Calix transforms too. His wolf is gray and crackling with lightning, storm clouds forming around his body.
"Theron," Seraphine says softly. "Calix. Do you remember now?"
Both wolves—both Primordials—nod.
"Then help me send this monster back where it belongs."
The three of them face the crack together. Three ancient beings of pure power. And I'm just standing here, useless, watching my wife become someone I don't recognize.
But then Sloane's silver eyes find mine. For just a second, I see her—the real her—looking out at me.
"I love you," she mouths. "I'm sorry."
Before I can answer, the three Primordials unleash their power at once.
The explosion is blinding. I feel myself thrown backward, tumbling across the yard. When I finally stop rolling and look up, the crack is gone. The ground is smooth again like nothing ever happened.
But Sloane, Theron, and Calix are still floating. Still glowing. Still not themselves.
Kieran walks over to them, his red eyes sad. "It's done. You can come back now."
Slowly, they descend to the ground. The light fades. Their eyes return to normal—Sloane's amber, Theron's bronze, Calix's pale green.
They all collapse.
I run to Sloane and catch her before she hits the ground. "Baby? Can you hear me?"
Her eyes flutter open. "Dacian?"
Relief floods through me. "Yeah, it's me. You're okay. You're—"
"Who's Dacian?" she asks.
My blood turns to ice. "What?"
Sloane—Seraphine—whoever she is now—sits up slowly and looks around like she's seeing everything for the first time. Her eyes land on Theron and Calix, who are also waking up looking confused.
"Theron?" she says. "Calix? Is it really you?"
They stare at her. Then at each other. Then huge smiles break across their faces.
"Seraphine!" Theron laughs and pulls her into a hug. "I remember! I remember everything! The old wars, the first age, all of it!"
Calix joins the hug. "We've been asleep for so long. But we found each other again."
They're all laughing and crying and holding each other like they're old friends reuniting after years apart.
And I'm standing here, watching my wife hug two naked men and call them by ancient names.
Watching her forget she ever knew me at all.
Kieran puts a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Alpha. When Primordials fully awaken, they sometimes lose their human memories. The vessel's personality gets... overwritten."
"No." I pull away from him. "Sloane's in there. I heard her. She said she loved me."
"She did love you," Kieran says gently. "But Sloane doesn't exist anymore. Only Seraphine remains."
I look at my wife—my Sloane—laughing in the arms of two men who aren't me. Men she apparently knew thousands of years before I was even born.
"Seraphine," I say, my voice breaking. "Do you remember me at all?"
She turns to look at me. Her expression is kind but distant. "I'm sorry. Should I know you?"
The words hit me like a physical blow.
I lost my wolf two years ago.
Today, I lost my wife.
And the worst part? She's standing right in front of me, alive and healthy and happy.
Just not with me.