Chapter 21 Twenty one
“Let go of me!” Harper struggled, her nails scraping against Koda’s arm as he dragged her down the hallway. Panic burned through her chest, every instinct screaming at her to run, to fight, to survive.
“Oh, shut up, little brat,” he snapped, his grip tightening painfully. “Stop yelling.”
He shoved her into a room and slammed the door shut behind them. The lock clicked loudly, sealing them in. The sound echoed like a final verdict.
Harper stumbled forward, spinning around to face him. Her heart hammered so hard it hurt.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, forcing her voice not to shake.
He straightened slowly, his posture wrong—too confident, too relaxed. The smirk on his face wasn’t Koda’s. It was colder. Older.
“Finishing what you and Koda started in this very room,” he said softly, amusement dripping from every word.
Her blood ran cold.
“You’re not Koda,” Harper said, backing away, her shoulders hitting the edge of the bed.
His smile widened.
“Well,” he said lazily, tilting his head, “you may call me the One.”
The way he said it made the air feel heavier, like the room itself was pressing down on her. Shadows seemed to cling to him unnaturally.
“What do you want from me?” Harper asked, her voice barely above a whisper now.
He stepped closer, eyes glowing faintly, predatory and knowing.
“I want control,” he said simply. “I want permanence. I want to anchor myself to this world… through you.”
Her stomach twisted.
“I want to mark you,” he continued, tapping his chest lightly. “Not with teeth. Not with blood. With a bond strong enough to silence Koda forever.”
Harper’s fists clenched.
“So I can wear this body without resistance,” he finished calmly. “So he disappears.”
Fear flared—but it didn’t own her.
“Never,” Harper said fiercely. “You monster. That body belongs to Koda.”
The One’s smile faltered for the first time.
“Belongs?” he repeated, amused but sharp. “You think ownership is that simple?”
“Yes,” she snapped. “Because no matter how loud you are, this is his life. His body. And you’re just a parasite hiding in the dark.”
Something dangerous flickered across his face.
“You’re braver than you should be for a wolfless girl,” he muttered.
“Maybe,” Harper shot back, her voice steady now despite the terror crawling through her veins. “Or maybe you’re afraid of me.”
Silence fell.
Then—
A low growl rippled through the room. Not from him.
From inside him.
Koda’s voice—strained, furious, desperate—echoed faintly beneath the surface.
Harper… run.
The One staggered, clutching his head as the room seemed to vibrate.
“Stay out of this!” he roared—to himself.
Harper didn’t hesitate.
She bolted for the door.
The door hadn't even cleared the frame before a hand like a vice clamped around Harper’s upper arm. With a strength that felt less like muscle and more like an avalanche, the entity wearing Koda’s skin hauled her back. The air was knocked out of her lungs as she hit the mattress. Before she could scramble back, he was over her, pinning her wrists to the pillows with a terrifying, fluid grace.
The weight of him was suffocating, yet there was a strange, chilling heat radiating from his skin. The One stared down at her, his face inches from hers. Up close, the transformation was even more grotesque; his pupils were dilated until the amber of Koda’s eyes was nothing but a thin, vibrating ring of gold around a void of obsidian.
“I told you,” he whispered, his voice a low, vibrating hum that seemed to rattle Harper’s very bones. “I want permanence.”
He didn’t strike her. Instead, he leaned down, his breath ghosting over the shell of her ear. It was an intimacy born of malice, a predatory claim that made her skin crawl. One of his hands released her wrist, only to trail a single, icy finger down the line of her throat. The gesture was slow, possessive, and utterly wrong.
“Can you feel him, Harper?” the One murmured, his lips brushing against her jawline. “Koda is watching this. He’s screaming in the dark, scratching at the walls of his own mind because he can’t stop me from touching you. Every beat of your heart is a drum I am learning to play.”
Harper tried to thrash, tried to knee him in the ribs, but he shifted his weight, pinning her legs down with his own. He was a shadow given mass, an anchor of darkness. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply as if he could scent her soul.
“You smell of defiance,” he chuckled, the sound vibrating against her skin. “It will make the breaking of you so much sweeter. Once I mark you, once our spirits are stitched together, Koda will be nothing more than a memory—a ghost in his own house.”
He shifted, his hand moving from her neck to cup her face, forcing her to look into those abyssal eyes. For a second, the darkness flickered, and she saw a flash of Koda’s true self—wide-eyed, weeping, and drowning—before the One slammed the door shut again.
“Don’t look for him,” the entity hissed, his face darkening. “Look at me. I am the end of your story.”
He leaned in, his intent clear, his shadow stretching across the ceiling like spreading ink. The air in the room grew cold enough to see her breath, the atmosphere thick with the scent of ozone and ancient, rotting earth.
The heavy oak door didn't just open; it exploded inward, the hinges shrieking as they were forced past their limit.
The Alpha King stood in the threshold, a silhouette of absolute authority and simmering rage. He didn’t waste a second on posturing or threats. In one fluid, blurred motion of Lycan speed, he was across the room.
The One barely had time to snarl, to turn his head toward the intruder, before the King’s hand descended. Between the King’s fingers was a small, blackened metallic disk—an artifact etched with glowing runes of binding and suppression.
He slammed the disk onto the back of Koda’s neck.
An agonizing, high-pitched shriek tore from Koda’s throat—but it wasn’t Koda’s voice. It was a sound like metal grinding on metal, a chorus of a thousand dying screams. A shockwave of dark energy pulsed outward, throwing the King back a step and nearly vibrating Harper off the bed.
The One buckled. His grip on Harper vanished as he clutched at the back of his neck, his body arching in a violent convulsion. He rolled off her, crashing to the floorboards as black smoke began to curl from the edges of the disk, searing into the skin to reach the parasite beneath.
The King stood his ground, his eyes glowing a steady, fierce crimson, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked down at the writhing form of his subject with a cold, clinical detachment.
“I hate you so much,” the One gasped, his voice thin and raspy, beginning to lose its physical resonance. He looked up at the King, his face a mask of distorted fury. “You think a piece of cursed tin can hold me forever?”
The King didn't blink. “It holds you well enough for now.”
“I promise you,” the One spat, his form flickering like a dying candle, “when I get back... when I find the crack in your armor... I am killing you. I will tear your kingdom down stone by stone and feed your heart to the crows.”
The Alpha King remained unfazed, his expression one of bored contempt. “You’ve made that promise for three centuries. You’re repeating yourself.”
The One’s gaze snapped back to Harper, who was shivering on the edge of the bed, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Even as his strength failed, even as the disk forced his essence back into the depths of Koda’s subconscious, he managed one last, haunting grin. A look of pure, unadulterated promise.
“And you,” he whispered, the darkness in his eyes swirling one last time. “It is only a matter of time, little wolf-less girl. I have your scent. I have your fear. I will finally claim what is mine.”
The evil smile lingered for a heartbeat longer than it should have, etched into Koda’s features like a scar. Then, as if the strings had been cut, the tension vanished. Koda’s eyes rolled back into his head, his body went limp, and he collapsed heavily onto the ground, unconscious.