LOGINThe storm did not touch the stronghold, but everyone felt it.Thunder rolled again in the distance, slow and deliberate, like the sky itself was thinking before it spoke. The air remained heavy long after the Herald vanished, the glow of the runes fading until only faint scars remained on the stone wall.No one moved.Wolves stood frozen where they were, breaths shallow, instincts screaming. Even the elders—men and women who had seen wars, betrayals, and blood moons—looked shaken.Killian was the first to move.“Clear the chamber,” he ordered, his Alpha voice cutting through the haze. “Now.”The command snapped everyone back into motion. Guards ushered the scouts out. Elders exchanged uneasy glances before retreating slowly, murmuring under their breath. Rowan lingered, watching Aria with sharp concern, but even he obeyed when Killian met his eyes.Soon, only three of them remained.The silence that followed was heavier than the noise before it.Aria leaned back against the stone wall
Darkness swallowed the corridor.For a heartbeat, Aria couldn’t see anything—only feel. The hum deepened, vibrating through the soles of her feet and straight into her bones, like the stronghold itself had become a living thing with a pulse of its own.Killian’s hand tightened around hers instantly.“Stay with me,” he said, his voice low and commanding, cutting through the dark like steel.“I’m not going anywhere,” she replied, though her heart was racing.The torches flickered back to life one by one, flames flaring higher than normal, burning with an unnatural blue edge before settling into amber again. The air smelled sharp—ozone and old magic, layered over stone and wolf.The scout took an uneasy step back. “Alpha… the marks are spreading.”Killian’s expression hardened. “Show us.”They moved quickly through the halls, boots echoing against stone as unease rippled through the stronghold. Wolves emerged from side corridors, drawn by instinct more than sound. Whispers followed them
The silence after the shimmer faded was heavier than the pressure that had come before it.It wasn’t empty.It was expectant.Aria stood at the edge of the ridge long after the others had stepped back, her gaze fixed on the place where the sky still looked… wrong. Not cracked. Not broken. Just aware. As if the world itself had inhaled and was waiting to see what she would do next.Killian didn’t rush her. He stayed close, his presence a steady heat at her side, close enough that their arms brushed whenever the wind shifted. He could feel it too—whatever had changed. The air carried a new tension, one that settled into his bones like a coming storm.Rowan cleared his throat behind them. “We should head back. Nightfall’s coming fast.”Aria nodded absently, but she didn’t turn right away. “It’s not over,” she said quietly.Rowan sighed. “Nothing ever is.”They moved back toward the stronghold as dusk bled across the horizon, the sky bruised purple and gold. The pack kept their distance—n
Morning came without warmth.The sky lightened, but the weight in the air remained—thick, unmoving, like the world itself hadn’t decided whether to let the sun rise properly. Aria woke before the camp stirred, her body tense, her mind already racing with echoes of the night before.The hum was gone.That frightened her more than if it had remained.She lay still for a long moment, staring at the canvas ceiling of the tent, listening to the slow, even breathing beside her. Killian slept on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes, his other hand resting near hers as if even in sleep he needed to know she was still there.She turned her head slightly, studying him.He looked different when he slept. Younger. Less burdened. The sharp lines of command softened, replaced by something achingly human. This was the man the world never saw—the man who carried everyone else and never asked to be carried in return.And yet… last night, he had chosen to stand beside her anyway.Aria closed her eyes
The night refused to settle.Even as the camp quieted and sentries took their posts, the air remained restless—charged with a tension Aria felt crawling beneath her skin. The world had stopped shaking, yes, but it hadn’t relaxed. It was as if the land itself were holding its breath, waiting to see what she would do next.She stood at the edge of the ridge long after everyone else had retreated, the horizon stretched wide before her. Stars glimmered faintly above, but even they seemed dimmer tonight, like distant witnesses unsure whether to shine or hide.“You’re going to freeze out here.”Killian’s voice came from behind her, low and familiar. Not scolding. Just concerned.“I don’t feel cold,” Aria replied softly.That worried him more than if she had.He stepped closer, his presence solid and grounding at her back. She didn’t turn, but she felt him there—felt the steady heat of him, the quiet strength that had always anchored her when the world threatened to tilt.“You’ve barely spok
Aria woke before the sun fully rose.It wasn’t pain that pulled her from sleep—it was awareness.Not sound.Not touch.But knowing.Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the soft glow of dawn filtering through the tall windows of the Alpha quarters. Killian lay beside her, one arm heavy around her waist, his breathing deep and even. He looked younger in sleep, the hard lines of command softened, the weight of the world briefly set aside.Yet the world had not set her aside.She could feel it.The air hummed faintly, like a thread pulled too tight. Beneath the stone floors, beneath the mountains themselves, something moved—not alive, not dead, but aware of her awareness.Aria stilled, afraid that even breathing too loudly might disturb whatever fragile balance now existed.This wasn’t the ancient power.That presence was sealed—compressed behind wards and will and sacrifice. What remained was different. Subtle. Like residue etched into her bones.She lifted her hand slowly, palm facing







