LOGIN"I want to talk."Vivian's voice came through her door, muffled by wood and ward. It was past midnight—three days after Aria's first visit. Three days of silence from the Knox girl's locked room.Aria had almost given up.She looked at Blake, who stood guard in the corridor, his hand on the hilt of the short sword he always carried."She asked for you specifically," he said. "Thirty seconds ago. I was about to wake you."Aria pulled her robe tighter around herself and nodded. Blake unlocked the door.Vivian sat on her bed, knees drawn to her chest. She looked different. Smaller. The polished, razor-sharp woman Aria had faced in the competition was gone. In her place was someone stripped down to their foundation—raw and uncertain and frightened.Aria sat in the chair. Same position as last time. Close enough to be personal."Tell me about your father," Vivian said.Not the question Aria expected. "What do you want to know?""How did you survive him?"Aria studied Vivian's face. The que
"Breathe. Deeper. Let your thoughts go quiet."Willow's voice was a low hum in the candlelit room. She sat cross-legged on the floor across from Aria, her hands resting on her knees, palms up. Blue-white light pulsed gently from her fingertips—a guide, an anchor.Aria closed her eyes and breathed. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Each breath slower than the last, sinking deeper into herself.The world outside faded. The castle. The competition. Knox and her father and the blood moon counting down. All of it fell away, layer by layer, like peeling skin from an onion, until nothing was left but the dark, warm space inside her own chest.Where the wolf waited.Where Morgana waited."I'm here," Aria thought.The darkness shifted. Not with light—with presence. Something vast and old and endlessly patient filling the space around her like water filling a basin.Then she was somewhere else.A forest. Not Thornwood—this one was older, wilder, with trees so tall their canopy blocked
"Competitors, the Trial of Spirit is unlike anything you have faced."Elder Maren stood at the center of the spirit arena—an open-air amphitheater carved into the hillside behind the castle. Stone seats rose in tiers, packed with spectators. The sky above was clear and cold, the afternoon sun throwing long shadows."This trial tests the most fundamental bond a werewolf possesses—the bond with their wolf. You will enter the meditation circle one at a time. You will connect with your wolf before the court. And the depth of that connection will be judged."Aria stood in the competitors' line, her hands clasped behind her back to hide their trembling. She knew what was coming. She'd been preparing for three days—meditating with Willow, speaking to her wolf, feeling Morgana's presence grow stronger with each session.But knowing and being ready were different things.The first few competitors entered the circle and performed well enough. They shifted cleanly, demonstrated control, showed t
"You went to Vivian. Without telling me."Darius stood behind his desk, and for the first time, his composure was well and truly cracked. Not ice—fire. A cold, controlled fire that burned behind his eyes and turned his voice into something sharp enough to cut."I had to," Aria said."You had to go alone to the daughter of our enemy and reveal our most sensitive intelligence.""She needed to hear it from someone who understands.""She needed to be interrogated by professionals who could extract useful information without giving away our entire strategy."They stared at each other across the desk. The bond between them vibrated with tension—his frustration, her stubbornness, both of them refusing to bend.Orion sat in the corner, watching them like a spectator at a particularly intense sparring match."She's right, you know," Orion said.Darius turned his glare on his brother. "Don't.""Vivian wouldn't have opened up to an interrogator. She's Knox's daughter—she's been trained to resist
"I need to see Vivian."Blake nearly choked on his tea. "Excuse me?""Vivian Knox. I need to speak with her. Privately.""The daughter of the man who just tried to murder Seraphina, fled the castle, and is actively conspiring to use your blood to resurrect a dead witch?" Blake set his cup down. "That Vivian?""That's the one.""Absolutely not.""Blake—""Aria, I say this with genuine respect: have you lost your mind?"She sat down across from him and told him about the cleansing ritual. About the Knox blood requirement. About Vivian being the key that could turn the entire situation without anyone dying.Blake listened. He was good at listening—better than most people gave him credit for. When she finished, he sat in silence for a long moment."You think she'll cooperate?""I think she deserves to know the truth about her father. What she does with that truth is her choice.""And if she chooses Knox?""Then we're no worse off than we are now.""We'd be significantly worse off. She'd t
"She's stable, but the coma is deep. I don't know when she'll wake up."Willow stood outside Seraphina's recovery chamber, dark circles under her eyes, her hands still faintly glowing from hours of healing work. She looked older than sixteen. She looked ancient."The draining spell was designed to kill," Willow continued. "It's a siphon—it doesn't just take magic, it takes life force. My grandmother survived because she's three hundred years old and has reserves most witches can't even imagine. Anyone else would be dead.""Can you identify who cast it?" Darius asked."The spell has a signature. Every witch leaves traces." Willow's jaw tightened. "It wasn't one of ours. It wasn't any recognized coven style. But I found something in the residue—old magic. Corruption magic. The same kind that lives in the curse.""Knox," Aria said."Not Knox personally. He doesn't have magic. But whoever cast this was connected to the Knox bloodline's power source. They used corruption magic as fuel." Wi







