THE LINE IN THE ASH

CHAPTER 4

Dax pulled me through the trees, fast and silent, but the bond-pain in my chest kept snagging my breath. Every time Kieran’s scent surged on the wind, my wolf tried to lunge toward it—then recoiled, wounded, furious, confused.

“Stop,” I choked, yanking my wrist. “I’m not running because he told me to.”

Dax halted so abruptly I nearly slammed into his back. He turned, gold eyes cutting into mine.

“You’re running because something else is coming,” he said.

As if the forest wanted to prove him right, the air trembled again. The roar rolled through the trunks like a drumbeat under the earth—closer than before. My stomach tightened, instinct screaming to climb a tree, to hide, to become small.

Dax didn’t look small.

He reached into his coat and pulled out a thin strip of dark cloth. With one quick motion he tied it around my wrist—above the crescent marks—tight enough to anchor, not hurt.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Masking you,” he said. “Your scent is screaming.”

“I’m not—”

“You are,” he cut in. “Bond-scent, fear-sweat, and whatever the Moon poured into you. It’s loud.”

Behind us, branches cracked.

Kieran’s voice carried through the trees, closer now, the command scraped raw. “Aria! Don’t move!”

My body jolted at the familiar authority, a reflex I hated. Pain bit my chest again—punishment for obedience that didn’t belong to me anymore.

Dax stepped in front of me, shoulders squaring. “Stay behind me.”

Kieran pushed through the brush into the copper eclipse light. He looked like he’d been carved out of storm—jacket open, throat bare, eyes wild. The moment he saw Dax, his whole expression tightened like a fist.

“You,” Kieran said, the word heavy with recognition.

Dax’s mouth curved without humor. “Alpha Heir.”

Kieran’s gaze flicked to my bound wrist, then to the pendant peeking through my fingers. His face went pale in a way that had nothing to do with the cold.

“Where did you get that stone?” he demanded.

“My mother,” I snapped. “The same mother your council wanted to ‘evaluate’ me for.”

Kieran’s jaw flexed. “I stopped them.”

“You rejected me in front of everyone,” I shot back. “That’s not stopping anything.”

His eyes flashed. “I did what I had to do.”

“You did what was convenient,” I said, and the truth of it tasted bitter.

Kieran took a step toward me.

The ash at my boots lifted.

Not drifting—rising in a clean circle, like it knew geometry and vengeance. It formed a ring between Kieran and Dax and slammed down with a soft thud, heat rolling off it in a wave. Kieran stopped short, eyes narrowing as if he’d just been blocked by an invisible wall.

“What is she?” he asked, voice low, and for the first time he sounded afraid.

Dax didn’t answer right away. He just watched Kieran watch me, like he was measuring how fast a man could become cruel again.

“She’s not your prize,” Dax said finally.

Kieran’s gaze snapped to him. “Move.”

Dax didn’t move an inch. “Say her name like you own it again and I’ll remove your tongue.”

I sucked in a breath. The threat should have terrified me. Instead it steadied something in my spine.

Kieran’s hands curled. “This is pack business.”

Dax’s eyes flashed gold-bright. “Pack business ends at the gate. You crossed into mine.”

Kieran’s stare sharpened. “Who are you to claim territory?”

Dax exhaled once, slow, as if choosing whether to spill blood or history.

“Dax Ashthorne,” he said.

The name hit Kieran like a blow. His face drained. “That’s impossible.”

“You tell stories to your pups,” Dax replied. “So they don’t ask why your elders burned a rogue line to the root.”

I blinked, heat rising under my skin. “Burned?”

Kieran’s gaze flicked to me, warning. “Aria—”

“Don’t,” I snapped. “Don’t decide what I get to know.”

Dax’s voice stayed calm, but the air around him tightened. “Your pack buried that pendant because it opens doors your council can’t lock.”

Kieran’s eyes dropped to the black stone. “That stone doesn’t open doors,” he said, voice rough. “It opens cages.”

A cold prickle ran down my back. “What cages?”

Before anyone could answer, the forest roared again—so close the ground vibrated. Something large moved in the dark behind Kieran, knocking branches aside as if trees were only suggestions.

Kieran spun, shifting his stance, Alpha instinct preparing for a fight he hadn’t expected.

Dax didn’t look away from Kieran. “You brought it,” he said quietly.

“I didn’t bring anything,” Kieran growled.

“You followed her on eclipse night,” Dax said. “That’s as good as ringing a bell.”

The shadows between the trunks parted.

For one heartbeat I saw it—massive, low, too many bones moving under one hide. Eyes like coals. Not wolf. Not bear. Something that didn’t belong to any pack’s stories.

My wolf screamed inside me.

Dax grabbed my wrist, yanking me back. “Run,” he ordered.

Kieran’s gaze snapped to me, desperate and furious. “Aria, don’t—”

The creature lunged.

And the ash ring at my feet exploded upward like a black wave.