7. The Crimson Past

Rhea

I’d always imagined wolves to be wild, snarling creatures that lurked in the woods—not men with sprawling estates and polished boots.

Kael’s territory wasn’t a hideout. It was a kingdom.

Hidden past the treeline and deeper into the valley, the Draven estate looked like something out of a forgotten time. A towering stone manor rose between ridges, framed by blackened pine and cold mist. The gates were wrought iron, carved with crescent moons and ancient sigils I didn’t recognize. It was too clean, too quiet, too… controlled.

“This doesn’t feel like a pack,” I muttered under my breath. “Feels like a damn cult.”

Kael didn’t respond. He walked ahead, sharp in every movement—his long coat billowing, boots silent on the gravel path. His aura didn’t just demand respect. It commanded it.

We passed two men standing near the entrance. One had arms the size of tree trunks and an axe scar across his cheek. The other nodded solemnly at Kael before eyeing me like I was a puzzle missing half its pieces.

“This is Rhea,” Kael said, curtly. “She’s under my protection.”

The big one grunted. “So she’s the Crimson girl?”

My stomach tightened. He didn’t say it with admiration—more like a warning.

Kael ignored the tone. “Take her to the east wing. Give her the green room. No one disturbs her.”

The manor’s interior was colder than outside. Everything smelled like cedar, steel, and faint traces of smoke. Kael’s pack—his inner circle—greeted us silently, eyes tracking my every move. Not with curiosity, but calculation.

I followed a girl named Mara down a long hallway. She didn’t speak much, but her expression said enough: You don’t belong here.

The green room, despite its name, was more silver than anything. Frosted windows. Marble floors. Velvet drapes. A fireplace that hadn’t seen a flame in years.

“You’ll find clothes in the drawer. Food comes at dusk,” Mara said, already halfway out.

I turned to ask a question, but she was gone.

I sat on the bed, breath shallow. It still felt like I was being watched—like this place had secrets buried in the walls.

And then… I felt it again. That pull in my chest. A hollow ache I couldn’t place.

Somewhere far from Kael’s estate, in a darker part of the woods…

The Dreadmaw Pack stirred.

Fenrak

“You hesitated,” Varek hissed, slamming his fist into a tree trunk hard enough to splinter bark. “You never hesitate, Fenrak.”

Alder leaned against a stone, arms crossed, quiet as usual but eyes sharp.

Fenrak met Varek’s fury without flinching. “I don’t hesitate. I calculate. Kael was on his territory. We’re not suicidal.”

“You’ve grown soft,” Varek sneered. “That girl—is that what slowed you? The Crimson brat?”

Fenrak’s jaw tensed. “She’s not important. Yet.”

Alder snorted. “Yet.”

Varek paced like a caged beast. “She’s everything. That girl is the lock, Fenrak. And AURA is the key. You know the prophecy.”

“I know what I was told,” Fenrak growled. “But you’re too desperate. If we attack Kael now, we lose. You want AURA’s return? Fine. But I’m not dying to make it happen. Not today.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then Varek leaned in, eyes glinting like knives. “Keep your feelings out of this, Fenrak. Or I’ll carve them out myself.”

Fenrak looked away. Not because he feared him—because he feared himself.

Because somewhere deep down, the thought of hurting her… made him hesitate again.

Back at the estate, Rhea stared into the flickering firelight in her room, unaware of the war brewing outside her fragile, mortal world.

And unaware of the mark pulsing faintly beneath her skin.

Like something was waking.

Something… old.

Rhea

I tried to sleep. I really did.

But how do you rest in a house where every creak sounds like a footstep and every gust through the chimney feels like breath on your neck?

Kael’s estate was beautiful, yes—but it didn’t feel like home. It felt like a cage made of velvet. Polished. Regal. Dead silent.

I wrapped myself tighter in the blanket and stared at the carvings above the fireplace. Wolves. Not just howling at the moon—but bowing. Submitting.

Wolves don’t submit. Unless they’re afraid.

A knock broke the silence.

Kael stepped in, holding a steaming mug. His shirt was half-unbuttoned, his scars clearer now. Pale lines etched across tanned skin, some newer than others.

“Tea,” he said. “Violet said it might help.”

I accepted it wordlessly, the warmth of the cup reminding me that I was, in fact, still alive.

“I figured this place might be… overwhelming,” he added.

“That’s one way to put it.” I tried to smile. Failed. “Feels more like a museum than a house. Do you even live here?”

Kael’s lips quirked. “I guard it. My family built this place centuries ago. My bloodline… has responsibilities.”

“To what?” I asked, genuinely curious.

He didn’t answer. Just sat in the chair across from me and watched the fire.

I noticed the necklace around his neck this time—barely visible beneath his collar. A silver pendant shaped like a crescent moon, etched with runes. I’d seen it before… in one of Elara’s journal sketches.

“You knew about me before I came here,” I said quietly. “Didn’t you?”

His jaw tightened.

“You’re a Crimson,” he said. “Your bloodline doesn’t go unnoticed. Not here. Not in Ashwood.”

“But why does it matter so much?” My voice cracked. “Why are they—those wolves, those… monsters—why are they after me?”

Kael hesitated, then leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

“There are things in this world that should’ve stayed buried,” he said. “Your family helped put them there. And now… someone wants to dig them back up.”

I swallowed hard. “A prophecy?”

He frowned. “I don’t believe in prophecies.”

“But you believe in monsters.”

He nodded.

“I’ve seen one,” I whispered. “In a dream… or maybe it wasn’t a dream.”

Kael went still.

“Red eyes?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He didn’t speak again. But something shifted in his face. A fear he didn’t want me to see.

Before I could push him further, there was a knock at the door.

Violet peeked in.

“Sorry,” she said, her voice softer than usual. “Just checking in.”

She looked between us, and I swore I caught something flicker behind her eyes. Jealousy? Worry?

“I brought something for Rhea,” she added, stepping in. A charm bracelet—woven with silver thread and tiny stones.

“It’ll help with the dreams,” she said.

Kael rose. “Thanks, Vi.”

She didn’t look at him. Only me.

“Wear it,” she said. “Even if you don’t believe in magic… believe in survival.”

When they both left, I stared at the bracelet in my palm.

The stones shimmered like something ancient lived inside them. It wasn’t pretty. It was… heavy.

I slipped it on.

Outside, a crow landed on the windowsill.

It didn’t caw. Just stared.

I whispered to myself, “What the hell is happening to me?”

And somewhere beyond the manor walls…

Varek was sharpening his claws.

"They warned me monsters hid under beds. They never said they could wear faces I might come to love."