Chapter 5: Ashes in My Mouth
(Nayla’s POV — First Person) I woke up with my mouth feeling like it had been stuffed with sandpaper and regret. The ceiling above me wasn’t mine—it was Kayla’s, painted a soft blue with tiny cracks spidering toward the corners. I groaned, rolling onto my side, clutching my pounding head. How the hell had I gotten this drunk? Werewolves weren’t supposed to get hangovers. Our metabolism usually burned through liquor like paper in a bonfire. It would take a fifth of whiskey just to get a decent buzz. But apparently grief… grief made everything hit harder. I sat up slowly, clutching the blanket around me. Every bone in my body ached. My stomach rolled. I needed water. A shower. Maybe an exorcism. Kayla’s guest room was a mess—clothes thrown everywhere, a half-eaten slice of pizza on the nightstand, an empty water bottle lying sideways on the floor. My dress—the red silk she made me wear—was hanging off the bedpost like a warning flag. I groaned again and stumbled to my feet, padding toward the kitchen. The house was quiet. Kayla was probably still passed out. Good. I needed a minute to piece myself together before facing her judgmental “told-you-so” smirk. I found a glass in the cabinet, filled it with cold tap water, and chugged it like it might save my life. It didn’t. I pressed the glass against my forehead and closed my eyes, willing the nausea to back off. And that’s when he slipped back into my mind. The man at the club. Dark eyes. Broad shoulders. A voice like smoke curling under a door. I barely remembered what I’d said to him. Barely remembered the look he’d given me when he pulled that drunk human off. But his scent— Moon above, I remembered that. Clear as sunlight cutting through dirty glass. He’d smelled like the woods. Not the safe, suburban kind with paved trails and park benches. The real kind. The kind that lived on the edge of the world. Dark earth. Wet moss. Ancient trees too stubborn to die even when the world burned around them. He smelled like the place my wolf used to dream about before everything went wrong. I pressed the glass harder against my forehead, breathing slow. I didn’t know who he was. Didn’t know what he wanted. Didn’t even know if I’d ever see him again. But some deep, secret part of me— the part that still hadn’t learned better— wanted to. Even if it was just one more bad decision waiting to happen. ******** By two in the afternoon, the hangover was just a dull ache behind my eyes instead of a full-blown marching band. Progress. I was sitting cross-legged on Kayla’s couch, picking at the remains of some microwave mac and cheese, when my phone buzzed beside me. I wiped my hands on a napkin and grabbed it. Email Notification: Subject: Internship Interview Invitation From: Sterling & Cross LLP I blinked, rereading it three times to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. Sterling & Cross. Private firm. Big money. Big cases. Bigger reputations. The kind of place that didn’t just invite people in for interviews. You had to know someone—or be someone. My stomach twisted. I clicked the email open. “Dear Miss Nayla Rayne, We are pleased to invite you for an in-person interview regarding the legal internship position you applied for earlier this spring. Please report to our main offices tomorrow at 10:00 a.m. We look forward to meeting you. - HR Department, Sterling & Cross LLP” Tomorrow. Tomorrow. I dropped the phone into my lap, heart thudding too fast. I needed a suit. I needed copies of my resume. I needed to not look like someone who had cried herself to sleep for three weeks straight. I scrambled off the couch, nearly tripping over a throw pillow. Kayla poked her head out of the bathroom, a toothbrush hanging from her mouth. “Where’s the fire?” “I got an interview!” I shouted, half-hysterical. She blinked. “You what?” “Sterling & Cross! Tomorrow! I have to get home! I have to—” I waved my arms around helplessly. “—prepare! And shower! And find my portfolio!” Kayla pulled her toothbrush out and grinned around the foam. “Hell yeah, bitch! Get your dreams!” I was already grabbing my bag, shoving my feet into sneakers. Across the bridge. Back to my tiny studio apartment with the peeling wallpaper and the eternally broken heater. It wasn’t much. But it was mine. And it had everything I needed to convince Sterling & Cross that I wasn’t a complete mess. Because I wasn’t. Not really. I was still the girl who had aced every exam. Still the girl who had a photographic memory and stacks of recommendation letters singing my praises. Professors loved me. Classmates hated how easy I made it look. I should’ve been snapped up the second I graduated. But I wasn’t. Every application had ended in silence. Every door had slammed shut. Every dream had been crumbling before it even had a chance to stand. No one said it out loud. But they knew. They knew I was the orphan wolf with no blood ties, no famous name, no political leverage. And that made me disposable. Forgettable. Until now. Until tomorrow. I tightened my grip on my bag and jogged out the door. I didn’t know why Sterling & Cross suddenly wanted to see me after months of radio silence. But I wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. Not this time.Chapter 103: Beneath the Ash and Stone(Nayla’s POV)The forest felt different this time.It wasn’t just the lingering chill in the air or the way the wind whispered between the branches like it knew my name. It was in the soil. The weight of the air. The pulse beneath my feet.Magic.Old. Ancient. Mine.Dominic walked beside me, silent but sharp-eyed, every step radiating protectiveness. We hadn’t said much on the drive back out here. We didn’t need to.We both felt it — something was waiting.The trees gave way to the clearing like they were bowing back. The old ruins stood in the center, black stone half-swallowed by moss and time. The air here tasted like metal and memory.I stepped forward first, my hand brushing the carved arch at the entrance. It was colder than I remembered.The crescent-shaped symbol etched above the doorway pulsed faintly under my fingers.“I think it’s reacting to you,” Dominic murmured.“I think it always was,” I replied.We moved together through the shat
Chapter 102: The Breath on Her NeckNayla’s POV)I had hoped for peace.Just one evening to feel normal. To let the scroll, the prophecy, the mark all blur into the background for a while. But my body wouldn’t let me rest.The cup of tea in my hands had long gone cold, but I hadn’t moved from the window. The skyline stretched wide and glittering beyond the glass, but I wasn’t looking at it.I was listening.To nothing.And somehow, that was worse.Asena stirred faintly within me. No growl. No warning. But her presence had shifted — her energy leaned toward the window like something was calling to her.I stepped outside onto the balcony, drawing my robe tighter around my body. The city below pulsed and breathed, oblivious to the storm crawling into our world. The wind wasn’t cold, but it bit at my skin like it knew I didn’t belong to stillness tonight.That’s when I felt it.It didn’t come as a scent or a sound. Just a sensation.A breath.Not mine.The fine hairs on the back of my nec
Chapter 101: The Weight of the Mark(Nayla’s POV)I didn’t hear the front door open.I didn’t even notice Dominic until I felt his presence behind me—calm, steady, but tightly coiled. The scroll had long since burned to ash, but I was still on the floor, cradling my marked hand to my chest, heart thudding like a war drum.“Nayla.” His voice was low, but sharp with concern. “What happened?”I turned slowly. He took one look at me, then at the soot-stained table and the scorch marks on the wood, and his whole body tensed.“I’m okay,” I said too quickly. My voice cracked, giving me away. “Mostly.”He was beside me in seconds, kneeling as his hands hovered over my shoulders, my arms, then my hand.“Let me see,” he said gently.I hesitated, then held my palm out. The mark was still glowing faintly, the heat subsiding but not gone. Dominic’s brow furrowed as he studied it—his thumb brushing just shy of the skin.“That’s the symbol from the scroll,” he said. “From the sketchbook, too.”“I di
Chapter 100: Mark of the Unknown(Nayla’s POV)The apartment was too quiet.Not peaceful quiet — not the kind that wraps around your shoulders like a blanket — but the eerie stillness before a storm. Even the hum of the city below felt distant, muffled by something I couldn’t name.I sat cross-legged on the floor beside the coffee table, the scroll from the temple spread out in front of me like an offering. The ancient paper pulsed faintly beneath my fingers, its symbols inked in blood-red and fading gold.I had been studying it for hours, tracing the runes, trying to understand why some moved when I blinked while others stayed frozen. My notes were scattered around me, filled with fragments that barely made sense:Where shadow drinks blood, the line must be drawn.Flame answers blood. The heir must burn or rise.A mark appears before the fall of fate.I didn’t understand.Asena stirred inside me. Not alarmed—but watching. Alert. Her energy pressed softly against my skin, like she was
Chapter 99: The Price of Failure (Nikolai’s POV – First Person) She didn’t even look surprised to see me. Jaime stood near the broken window, her arms crossed like that might keep her spine from shaking. The wind slipped through the cracked glass and pushed her hair into her face. She didn’t brush it away. “You’re early,” she said quietly. I shut the door behind me. The lock clicked like a clock running out. “I thought you might’ve done something worth rewarding,” I said. “But here I am.” Her lips parted, but no words came. “Still no potion in her blood, Jaime?” I asked, voice deceptively calm. “Still no severed bond?” “She’s been locked down,” she said quickly. “Security around her’s tightened. I couldn’t get close.” “You told me you had access to her. That Dominic was growing careless. That he left openings.” “I thought he did,” she snapped back. “But she barely leaves the damn apartment. Maybe once. A coffee shop run and nothing since. I couldn’t—” “You couldn’t do the
Chapter 98: Fire Beneath the Crown (Nikolai’s POV – First Person) The moment I cracked the seal on the ash-scented parchment, I knew. She found it. The note inside was brief, but it might as well have been a gunshot to the chest. She’s awakened the temple. Your window is closing. Move or be erased. I crushed the message in my fist. The ink smeared against my palm, bleeding like a wound. For a long moment, I said nothing. Just stood in the middle of my office, staring out the window at the horizon, watching the sun sink behind the forest that had hidden too many secrets for far too long. She was never supposed to find that place. The Crescent Ridge Temple was sealed for a reason—forgotten by design. I made sure of it. Her mother had hidden it with blood, magic, and fear. I made sure every trace of it was buried beneath ash and shadow. And yet… she found it. Nayla. The girl who was supposed to be weak. Lost. Dependent. I gave her that apartment. Arranged the conditions so sh