The first wolf lunged with a snarl, its teeth bared, but before Lira could react, Caius was there. With a growl that shook the very air, he shoved her aside and met the creature head-on. His powerful hands locked around its neck, snapping it with a brutal twist. The wolf crumpled to the ground, its body limp.Chaos erupted around them.Dain fought with a primal ferocity, his blade cutting through the air with deadly precision. Each strike was clean and swift, but for every wolf he felled, another seemed to rise in its place. Blood sprayed the ground, staining the earth as the battle raged on. Tobias, ever calm and calculating, moved beside Dain, his movements sharp and exact. But even he could see it—despite their best efforts, they were outnumbered. The wolves kept coming, too many, too fast.Lira's heart thundered in her chest as she dodged another wolf that lunged at her. Her body was still recovering from the ritual, but instinct drove her, her legs moving on their own, propelled
Lira gasped as the world came back into focus, her body trembling as the landscape around hersnapped into place. The scent of pine and damp earth filled her lungs, grounding her in themoment. She stumbled, barely catching herself against a nearby tree. The teleportation hadtaken its toll, disorienting her, but she pushed the dizziness aside.They were deep in the forest now—far from Valenwood, far from the pack’s stronghold.Morgana let out a heavy breath, her hands resting on her knees as she swayed slightly. "Thatwas… close," she murmured, her voice strained. The witch's usual calm was gone, replaced bysomething else—fatigue, maybe, or the weight of the spell she'd just cast.Lira turned, her stomach twisting with guilt and dread. "We left them behind," she whispered, hervoice raw. The image of Lucien's smirk, the betrayal of Celeste—her heart thudded painfully inher chest. They hadn’t just abandoned their people. They’d abandoned a fight they were notready for.Tobias’s voi
After four days of exhausting travel, the sight of Grimhowl’s towering gates brought a wave ofrelief to the weary group. The icy northern winds howled through the snow-covered trees, bitingat their skin as Lira tightened her cloak around her shoulders. The journey had taken a toll on allof them, especially the injured warriors who had been carried in makeshift stretchers, but themoment the first structures of Grimhowl came into view, Caius let out a deep breath andmind-linked his Beta.'Elias, we’re almost at the borders. Open the gates.'A few moments later, movement stirred in the distance. The massive steel gates creaked open,the sound echoing in the still night air. A group of warriors rushed forward to meet them. At thecenter was Elias, his strong frame standing firm against the wind. His sharp, calculating eyesscanned the group, lingering on the injured wolves being carried.Behind him, dozens of pack members had gathered, their faces a mixture of curiosity andconcern. T
Despite the warmth of the Alpha’s mansion, Caius barely felt it. The crackling fire in the hearthand the plush leather chair did little to ease the tension that had taken root in his body. As soonas his boots clicked against the stone floors, the weight of his title hit him harder than the coldwind outside. The responsibilities of being Grimhowl’s Alpha felt heavier than ever.Elias walked silently beside him as they made their way to the office. Neither spoke until theyreached the office door. Elias shut it quietly behind them, his gaze locking onto Caius with amixture of concern and something sharper."Alpha," Elias finally said, his voice tight with restrained frustration. "What the hell happened?"Caius let out a long, tired exhale, sinking into his chair. The wooden surface felt solid beneathhis fingertips, grounding him, but it didn’t lessen the burden that had settled in his chest.“Too much to explain in one conversation,” Caius muttered, his voice rough from exhaustion.
Lira wandered through Grimhowl, taking in its vastness with a quiet awe. The snow-coveredground beneath her boots crunched as she walked, the cold northern air biting at her cheeks. Itwas so different from Valenwood, where the forest had felt alive with magic—where the verytrees seemed to whisper secrets. Here, everything was built on strength, from the toweringstone walls of the Alpha’s mansion to the well-maintained roads and grand structures that dottedthe landscape. There was power in the air, a raw, unyielding force that felt almost tangible.She couldn’t help but admire it. Grimhowl was a fortress, built to withstand anything. But as shecontinued through the compound, her thoughts inevitably returned to the danger that loomedahead. Malakar’s forces were growing stronger, and no amount of strength or fortitude would beenough to fight them unless they figured out how to harness their own power. And that, shethought, was something she wasn’t sure they could do.Her footste
Lira stood in the middle of a clearing, the cold air biting at her exposed skin. The northern windshowled around her, swirling snowflakes in a dizzying dance. Grimhowl’s land was still blanketedin thick snow, the bitter cold lingering, but there was a hint in the crisp air—a promise of warmerdays to come. She tightened the cloak around her shoulders, looking toward the figure standingbefore her. Morgana.The ancient witch stood with her arms crossed, her sharp gaze studying Lira with an almostpredatory intensity. Despite the woman’s apparent calm, Lira could never fully relax around her.Morgana had an uncanny way of making her feel both reassured and unsettled at the sametime, as if she was aware of something Lira was only beginning to understand.“Your powers are awakening,” Morgana said, her voice low and smooth like liquid silk. “It’s timeyou learn to wield them.”Lira swallowed hard, her heart racing as she flexed her fingers, feeling the strange pull withinher. Ever sinc
Morgana led Lira through the winding corridors of Grimhowl’s grand estate, finally stopping at asecluded chamber tucked away from the bustling heart of the pack’s fortress. The room was small, its atmosphere thick with the scent of herbs, dried flowers, and the faint must of oldparchment. Candles flickered in the corners, casting long shadows against the stone walls,which were lined with ancient tomes—some so worn that the titles had faded to nothing morethan ghostly traces.The witch gestured to a high-backed chair, its fabric rich and deep in color, and Lira hesitatedonly for a moment before sitting across from her. The air was heavy with unspoken secrets, andLira could feel the weight of them pressing down on her.Morgana leaned back in her seat, folding her hands in front of her. Her eyes seemed to darkenas she began to speak, her voice low and steady, as though every word carried the weight ofcenturies.“I am older than most beings you’ve ever met, Lira. I have lived for
The revelations from Morgana lingered in Lira’s mind, gnawing at her as the night stretched on.Lying in the bed, the weight of everything she had learned pressed down on her chest, leavingher restless and unable to sleep. The cold moonlight filtered through the window, casting longshadows across the room, but Lira hardly noticed. Her thoughts were a whirlpool, eachrevelation adding fuel to the fire of uncertainty within her.Her birth had been destined. Morgana had known Malakar. The Dark Lord’s betrayal had turnedthe witch into an ally, yet the depth of Morgana’s story only deepened the complexity of theirsituation. The idea that she had been part of some cosmic design—her existence tied to aneclipse, an event that was supposedly beyond her control—was both comforting and terrifying. Itmade her feel like a pawn in a game that had been set long before she was born.But Lira didn’t want to be a pawn. She wanted to be the player.The sound of a knock at the door broke through he
MORGANAThe scent of rosemary and dried bloodroot clung to my robes as I pored over the fifth tome of the morning. My fingers trembled—not from age, but from urgency. It had been two days since we discovered the truth.Two days since I learned that Malakar had not merely touched Caius’ mind… but had laced himself into his very shadow.A tether. A slow poison.A curse older than most witches alive today.I hadn’t slept. The fire in my chamber barely flickered anymore, kept alive only by the pulse of my magic and the constant rustling of pages. On the table before me, scrolls lay scattered, ink smudged by my hurried notes. I’d summoned wind spirits for answers. Brewed insight draughts. Called on the ancestors through the Oracle’s Mirror.Nothing had given me what I needed.Because this was no ordinary corruption. Malakar wasn’t just feeding off Caius—he was waiting. Waiting for the right moment to seize full control.And that moment was drawing near.Caius hadn't said much in the last t
CAUISWe scoured the halls until our feet ached and our patience thinned.Every wall, every crack, every space in the packhouse was searched—twice. The talismans Ysara gave us were sensitive, humming lightly in our palms whenever they neared even the faintest trace of cursed energy. But for hours, they offered nothing but silence.Until Kora stopped dead in her tracks."Wait… the old stone hearth," she said, her voice sharp with realization. "The one in the original east wing kitchen. No one uses it anymore, but it's still there."The east wing. Of course.No one cooked there now. The kitchens had been rebuilt on the other side after the fire years ago. But the room remained accessible—used occasionally for storage, sometimes by pups playing hide-and-seek. A forgotten relic of our home’s past.And the perfect place to hide something no one was meant to find.We rushed to the hearth, the talismans growing heavier with each step.As soon as we crossed the threshold, the symbols on the t
MORGANA I didn't walk. I ran. The vision still echoed behind my eyes like lightning that refused to fade. I had no time to waste, no room for caution. I clutched the edge of my cloak and stormed through the halls of Grimhowl, the weight of destiny—and dread—pressing down on my shoulders like an avalanche ready to fall. Caius. Lira. They needed to know what I saw. The future was still uncertain, a thread split in two. One path led to fire, ruin, and death. The other—hope. But both required a choice. A sacrifice. A weapon. And time, we had little of that left. I reached the dining hall, heart thudding in my chest, relief washing over me as I spotted them all inside. Lira stood beside Caius, her hand resting gently on his. Tobias and Thoren sat nearby, deep in conversation with Seraphina and Dain. Deanna and Elowen were seated next to Ronan and Kora, who looked up the moment I entered. Elias stood at the far end, arms crossed, eyes alert. Even the Elders Council had g
MORGANA The moment I stepped out of the war room, scroll clutched tight to my chest, I felt the weight of centuries settle on my shoulders like a cloak spun from memory and magic. The Map of the Bloodseer. I had heard of it in whispers—in forgotten tomes and fragmented chants. A myth, they claimed. A tale told by seers too old to trust and too mad to be believed. But it was real. Right in my hands, pulsing faintly with the tangled threads of fate itself. This could be the turning point in the war. Or a trap we were too desperate to ignore. I moved quickly through Grimhowl’s stone halls, ducking into the small chamber I’d claimed as my study. Candles flared to life with a flick of my fingers. Runes on the walls shimmered, reacting to the old magic now saturating the space. I laid the map out carefully across the old table, heart pounding not with fear—but with urgency. Because this time, it was personal. My hands hovered over the parchment, and I whispered an incan
CAUIS I stood at the head of the hall, my hand resting lightly on the back of Lira’s chair, listening to Ronan speak. His voice echoed just enough to remind us all why we were really here. "Alright, as beautiful as all these long-lost family moments are,” Ronan began, flashing a small grin, “we didn’t come back just to cry and sniff each other’s hair.” A few chuckles rumbled through the hall—Kora rolled her eyes, Seraphina smirked into her cup, and even Tobias cracked a grin. But I could feel the shift in Ronan’s tone even before the humor faded from his face. “We come bearing news from the Village of Enomenos,” he said. Just like that, the air changed. I straightened. “Then we need to meet. We’ll keep this here brief and move to the war room.” “Thoren, Tobias, you and your daughters stay,” I added, catching my mate’s gaze and brushing my fingers across her hand. “You deserve the time to catch up.” “But unfortunately for Elias,” Ronan smirked over his should
ELIAS The warmth of the dining hall clashed with the tension humming beneath my skin. We’d only just returned—Thoren, Ronan, Kora, and I—bringing news from the nearby village. We hadn’t been gone long, but in war, every hour stretched thin. Every moment was weighted. And yet, in the middle of it all, I found myself rooted in place—not by dread, not by urgency—but by a scent. I froze near the entrance, my breath catching. It drifted through the air, cutting through the aromas of roasted meat, earth, and fire. This scent was different. Unmistakable. Fresh rain on wildflowers. Sweet… and wild. Mate. My head snapped toward the far end of the hall. And that’s when I saw her. She stood beside Dain, half-shielded by the curve of his arm. Her gaze was already on me. Wide-eyed. Curious. Like she felt it too. No—she knew. The world narrowed. Sounds dimmed. I took a step forward before I even realized I was moving. My heart thundered in my chest as I closed
SERAPHINA The warmth of familiar arms still lingered on my skin. I was wrapped in it—reunion, laughter, tears. The scent of my mother, the comforting cadence of Tobias’s voice, even Morgana’s sharp, dry wit—it all created a fragile kind of joy, stitched together by disbelief. I was home. Somehow. Even though the walls were different, the ground colder, and the people scarred by what had come before, I was here. After so long, I let myself breathe again. Because suddenly, something cold twisted in my gut. My father. The joy faded from my face like ash on the wind. I turned sharply, searching the faces around me—Tobias, Morgana, Dain. Dain. He stood near the fire, his arms crossed, face half-cast in shadow. “Dain,” I said, stepping forward. “Valenwood… what happened to it? Where’s my father? Is he still—” I couldn’t finish the question. My voice cracked, and the unspoken horrors hung between us like smoke. His jaw tightened, lips pressing into a thin l
THOREN Ysara’s words clung to the air like a spell. “Yes, I am a Bloodseer, and only few of us are left. I’m the only one in Enomenos. We are not simply part witch and part wolf—we are two complete souls living as one. One soul bound to the craft of magic, the other to the wildness of the wolf. Balanced. Powerful. But vulnerable to corruption. And once turned, a Bloodseer becomes the perfect servant of darkness.” Her voice held both strength and sorrow. For all her wisdom, there was weight behind every word—weight that had settled into her bones from carrying the burden of truth for far too long. Her gaze drifted across the room, landing briefly on Kora, then Ronan, and finally me. “That is why I remain hidden,” she continued. “I'd rather die righteous than live twisted. But these people…” she gestured subtly to the villagers gathered in the shadows, “they need me. So I walk a thin edge.”I swallowed hard, the scent of smoke and ancient herbs thick in the cavern air. The fir
THOREN The girl’s name was Elianna. A quiet strength pulsed in her steps as she led us deeper into the woods, through a narrow trail flanked by thick underbrush and twisting roots that reached like hands from the forest floor. The silence of the village had followed us, replaced now by the occasional crackle of twigs and the distant hoot of an owl, despite the sun still shining overhead. Ronan walked close, eyes scanning the shadows. Elias brought up the rear, her steps light but cautious, her hand never far from the hilt of her dagger. The rest of our warriors followed closely behind. Eventually, Elianna paused in front of a large outcropping of moss-covered stone. She placed her hand on its surface, whispering something in a tongue I didn’t recognize. The stone shimmered, then split down the center with a soft groan, revealing a narrow entrance, just large enough for one person at a time to slip through. "After you," she said, offering a small smile. Inside, the passage wa