Chapter 184 CHAPTER 184

Chapter 184 CHAPTER 184
Emma’s POV
I screamed.

The sound tore out of my throat, raw and broken, filling the room. But it wasn't enough. The pain was too big, too consuming, too vast to be contained in something as small as a scream.

The wolf spirit was inside me.

I could feel it moving through my body like a living thing—tearing through my veins, shredding my muscles, clawing at my bones from the inside. It was rage, hatred, fury, pain and sorrow, all of it crashing into me at once, overwhelming every sense I had.

My body arched off the rug. My back twisted violently, my spine curving in ways it shouldn't. My hands flew to my chest, my fingers clawing at my own skin, trying to dig out the thing that was destroying me.

It didn't help. The wolf was inside me now, and it was fighting.

Every cell in my body was screaming. Every nerve was on fire. The wolf was not just inside me—it was becoming me. It was clawing its way through my consciousness, trying to take over, trying to consume everything I was.

I could feel its teeth in my bones. I could feel its claws shredding my organs. I could feel its hatred, its fury, its desperate need to destroy the vessel that was holding it captive.

And I could feel it winning.

"This is wrong!" Vivienne's voice cut through the haze. "This is wrong, Elara! She's dying! Stop it!"

"I can't stop it." Elara's voice was steady, calm, but there was something underneath it—a thread of concern that made my stomach turn. "Once the spirit has entered, it cannot be undone. Stopping now would kill her."

"Then do something!" Vivienne's voice broke, raw with desperation. "You have to do something!"

"There is nothing to do. She must fight through it on her own."

"Fight?" Vivienne's voice cracked. "She's not fighting! She's—she's just screaming!"

"She's still here," Elara said. "If the wolf had completely taken over, she would be silent. She's still fighting. I can feel it."

I heard Rafael move. His voice was low, steady, cutting through the chaos like a knife through smoke.

"Vivienne. Look at me."

"I can't—"

"Look at me." His voice was firm but gentle, the kind of voice that grounded people. "She's going to make it. She's strong. She's been strong her whole life."

"I can't lose her, Rafael. I can't—"

"You won't lose her." Rafael's voice was a rock, immovable. "She's a fighter. She always has been. She's going to pull through this."

I tried to focus on their voices. I tried to hold onto them, to use them as an anchor while the wolf spirit tore me apart.

But the pain was too much.

My body convulsed again. My back arched, my head snapping back, my teeth clenching so hard I thought they would shatter. The wolf howled inside me—a long, mournful sound that seemed to shake the very air, that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

I could feel its claws raking through my insides. I could feel its teeth sinking into my heart. I could feel its fury, its hatred, its desperate need to break free from the body that was trying to contain it.

This is the most pain I have ever felt, I thought. This is worse than anything. Worse than losing my parents. Worse than watching them die. Worse than anything.

The wolf was not just fighting me. It was hunting me. It was stalking me through my own body, cornering me, trapping me. Every time I tried to push it back, it pushed harder. Every time I tried to find a foothold, it tore it away.

I could feel it in my blood, in my bones, in the marrow of me. It was in my breathing, in my heartbeat, in the beat of my pulse. It was everywhere.

And I was losing.

No, I thought. I can't lose. I won't lose. Not when I've come this far.

I forced myself to focus. I forced myself to find something solid inside the storm. I thought of my parents. I thought of their faces, their voices, their hands. I thought of the way my mom would smile when she was proud of me. I thought of the way my dad would laugh, deep and warm, when I said something that made him happy.

I thought of them lying in those graves, and I thought of Adrian, and I thought of the promise I had made.

I will make you pay. I will make you pay for everything.

The wolf snarled inside me. It heard my thoughts. It knew what I was fighting for.

And it didn't care.

It attacked again. This time it was faster, more aggressive, more desperate. I felt my body twist, my spine bending almost in half, my hands digging into the rug beneath me. The pain exploded, white-hot and absolute, consuming everything.

I heard myself scream again. The sound was barely human, a raw, animal cry that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside me.

"Emma!" Vivienne's voice was muffled, distant. "Emma, please—"

"She's still in there," Elara said. "I can feel her fighting. She's still in there."

I couldn't hear them clearly anymore. The world had become a blur of pain and noise and white-hot agony. I was losing myself. I was being consumed by the wolf.

No, I thought again. No. I will not let this happen.

I pictured my parents' faces. I pictured Emma's apartment. I pictured the look on Adrian's face when I finally made him pay.

I will survive this, I told myself. I will survive this because I have to.

The wolf howled again. But this time, I heard something else. I heard something in my own voice. Something that was not the wolf. Something that was me.

I pulled myself upward. I felt the wolf try to drag me back, try to pull me down into the darkness. But I held on. I held on because I had to.

The wolf snarled. It bit down harder. But I kept fighting. I kept pushing. I kept refusing to let it take me.

And then something shifted.

The pain began to change. It was still there, still immense, still overwhelming. But it was no longer sharp. It was no longer tearing. It was becoming something else—something that felt like heat, like pressure, like something building.

I felt it in my chest, in my heart. I felt the wolf begin to give, just slightly, as if it was losing its grip.

I felt the first crack in the wall between us.

And then everything went white.