Chapter 10 - The Dreadmoor

Kade's POV

The ground beneath my feet breathed as though it was alive, and curled around my boots, mumbling silent whispers with a voice as cold as ice. I kept walking until the fog lifted, each step echoing in a silence too profound to be normal. 

A man was waiting at the end of the fog. A chaperon, maybe. 

As I neared, I noticed he was faceless, dressed in a dark cloak. s faceless. Not quite a deity, nor a wraith, but his voice sounded like water-soaked bells.

"Alpha of the Blood Moon line. Are you willing to enter?" 

I wasn't from the blood moon tribe, but I didn't bother to correct him. My throat was dry, but my response was firm.

"Yes, I am."

The chaperon cocked his head as if to assess the depth of my soul.

Then suddenly, the world spun. 

I was standing in an unending hall filled with black mirrors and shadows cast across the ceiling. Each mirror flickered, but not with my reflection, but rather with flawed and shattered copies of me.

In one, my eyes were black with hunger, and I was crowned in bone. Another, on a battlefield, bleeding out. Another, chained and kneeling at Nyra's feet.

Then came the crippling voices.

"Like your father, you will fail."

"She will be your downfall.

"She is your weakness."

"You're not the true Alpha. 

"A mere boy like you, pursuing the gods."

I gasped for air. They weren't random. They sounded familiar, like people I knew. My dad. Riven. Nyra. Vaela. Their voices were twisted with hatred.

"Lies!" I shouted.

The room shook as shards flew over the black floor when one of the mirrors broke. The others, meanwhile, increased in number, their murmurs harsher and louder.

I regained my balance, fully aware of the trick. The mirrors thrived on uncertainty and shattered realities. I would be lost in the never-ending labyrinth if I listened or hesitated.

I stepped forward as the illusions swung out more forcefully with each stride.

In a rage, I pictured myself killing them all.

My chest grew constricted. Above them all, my father's harsh, resentful voice could be heard.

"Having power is a curse. You can't save them!"

For a second, I stopped. The words sank deeply. But through the confusion, there was a faint echo of another voice. Softer. Warmer.

Nyra's actual voice. Not evil, not perverted. Her whisper when she had woken up that night.

"Don't give in. Fight it."

Suddenly, I was at peace, and like hardened steel, my determination slammed back into place.

"You're wrong!" My pitch caused the mirrors surrounding me to shatter. Smoke dissolved the illusions. The voices fell silent.

But only for a moment. This time, I was no longer just hearing voices in my head; I was watching scenes playing out in front of me. It was so real. The characters were alive and moving, trying to pull me in. 

The first mirror showed me sitting on my father's throne with Vaela by my side, and the Elders bowing to me first before the pack followed suit. Until I disappeared. The seat beside Vaela was empty, and she turned to me, beckoning me to take the seat beside her. It was all I'd ever wanted. Tempting, but I turned away. Reminding myself that it was an illusion.

What I saw in the next mirror twisted my insides. I saw my father. Alive. Breathing. He reached out from inside the mirror, patting my shoulders, his eyes softened and kind. He was back to being the loving father I'd loved. The man he was before his visit to Dreadmoor. The man who loved me and cherished family. 

"Dad, is it really you?"

"In the flesh," He retorted.

 My chest was tight with emotions; it was all I had ever wanted since I was a little boy. 

He spoke again, his voice full with pride and admiration,

"You did it, son. You surpassed my expectations. I always knew you'd make such a fine Alpha. I miss you."

"I miss you, too."

"Come with me. If you take my hand, everything you've lost will return to you. We'll start over, together. We'll make your mum proud."

He looked different from the other reflections I'd seen. He seemed genuine, loving, and warm. I could feel my father's palms' harsh callus as my fingertips touched the glass.

However, a whisper—Nyra's again—came from just beneath it. It wasn't gentle encouragement this time, though. It was frantic.

"Don't fall for it. That's not real.

I paused. I reassessed the image again, realizing for the first time that something wasn't quite right. His eyes didn't exactly reflect the light, and his shadow leaned at a weird angle.

My jaw clenched as I tore my hand away. "No," I barked. "You're not my father! My father is long gone, and if he were truly alive, I'd be more than a ghost when he finds me."

The figure snapped, rage tearing the soft facade,  "You idiot!"  The voice yelled, reverting to the tone I was all too familiar with—the disappointed, bitter, and very real one. That was my father.

The mirror had shattered into pieces, but I was still trapped in the labyrinth.  There were three mirrors left.  One that reflected me as a monster, eyes empty and ravenous, teeth dripping as I killed my own people, another with the Earth burning at my feet as Wraithborns loomed around me, and the last was just me. Typical.  Imperfect. Scarred.

Then I finally got it.  It wasn't about getting the crown, my father's blessings, or being the good guy. It was about acknowledging my imperfections and loving myself regardless. Embracing my true self.

I tightened my jaw and walked toward the scarred mirror.   "I choose you," I said out loud.

The sound of the other two explosions sounded like screams.  The final mirror flashed, then shattered into dust that whirled around me innocuously.  Only then did the route ahead open and the silence returned.

I was all by myself in the large room when the illusion ended. There was only one mirror left, and this time around, the reflection was complete. It was mine.

The voice of the chaperon floated from the archway ahead.

"You've passed the first test. For now.

I let out a breath, my gaze steady but my body trembling as I moved toward the exit. The ground began to vibrate at that point.

Shards of the mirrors spiraled into the mist as they cracked violently. I had never heard anything like the guttural growl that ripped across the room.

A huge, skeleton creature, wreathed in smoke and fire, rushed out of the shadows. Its eyes were like molten suns, and its maw was impossible to close.

The voice of the chaperon reappeared, but it was not serene.

"You are welcome in the Chamber of Ash and Bone."

Before I could even catch my breath, the creature lunged at me.