Chapter 115

Dante’s POV

Then the smell hit. It was metallic, something burned, something rotten. And something else, something that didn’t belong anywhere, not with the living, not with the dead.

I followed that stink further in, chest tight, every step making me more sure I was making a very stupid decision. Even the wind noped out of this place. Then I saw it. Carved into a tree, deep, ugly, fresh, a spiral in the bark, leaking sap like blood.

Magic. Old, thick, and definitely not the friendly kind. Mira’s signature is all over it.

I crouched and touched it. The mark burned under my hand, like it was pissed off to see me. Black smoke started curling from the wound, twisting in the air, almost like it was sniffing me back.

“Damn it,” I whispered. “She’s been here.” Not just passing through, she’d claimed this patch of ground.

I spun, eyes scanning the trees. Someone, something, was watching. Instinct screamed it. Then I heard the whisper, felt it, really, crawling up my spine.

You shouldn’t have come alone.

Blade out, fast reflex. The sound of steel was way too loud in the hush. “Come on, then. Show yourself!”

Nothing. Just a laugh... high, sweet, nasty as a paper cut. I bolted after it, heart smashing my ribs, crashing through the brush.

Stopped dead. Under this ancient, dead oak. A circle of feathers... black, red, arranged all neat around a crusted bowl of blood. Symbols scratched in the dirt. Runes. Summoning, binding. Somebody was trying to harm her.

I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Mira’s people were dust. Who the hell...

A branch rustled behind me. I spun, blade up. Nothing.

But the blood smell was thicker now. Choking. Then I looked up. Dangling right over me... a feather, huge, blood-red, shining in the half-light like a warning.

I reached for it, slowly. The air buzzed, like the thing was alive and watching. As soon as I touched it, ice shot through me. My vision went white, and I heard this voice, low, rough, definitely not friendly.

She promised us power. She promised your world would burn.

I stepped back, gasping. “Who the hell are you?”

No answer. Just that feather, throbbing in my hand, like it had a pulse and I’d just woken it up.

Mira wasn’t alone. Oh, hell no. She’d bumped into something way nastier than before. Old, too—like, ancient old.

I stuffed the feather deep in my pack, wrapped it up so it wouldn’t brush my skin. No way I was letting that thing touch me again. Heading home was like being dragged back by a treadmill. Every step felt gloomier.

By the time I finally spotted the Crescent moon pack’s territory, it was already nighttime. The houses, all patched up and stubbornly standing, glowed in the distance, cozy, almost, if you ignored how they looked like a stiff breeze could wipe them out.

And there’s Dominic, standing by the gate like he’s been waiting for hours. His eyes went all squinty the second he saw me. “You’ve been gone all day.”

“Had to check something,” I muttered.

He folded his arms. “What kind of something?”

I didn’t answer, just dug out the feather and unwrapped it enough so he could see that weird color shimmering.

He froze. “What is that?”

“Mira’s new alliance,” I said.

He raised his brows and squinted his eyes, like he was trying to read my mind. “Meaning?”

“She’s ditched her old army. Found something else. Something uglier. It bleeds magic.” My voice felt small saying it out loud.

Dominic’s jaw went full stone. “You sure?”

I glanced at the feather again. The edge sparkled, kind of like blood that refuses to dry up, you know?

“Yeah. I’m sure,” I said. “And whatever she’s dealing with... It’s heading our way.”

He just stared at me for a while, biting his lower lip and saying nothing for a moment, and he sighed. “Does Elora know?”

“No.”

His voice snapped. “Don’t tell her. Not yet. She hasn’t slept in days as it is.”

I nodded, but honestly, keeping secrets like this? It never ends well. It felt like swallowing rocks.

He walked off, and I stood there, turning that cursed feather over in my hand one last time. It felt too warm, like something alive and wrong, not just dead skin.

Wind rustled through the trees, the sound of trees swaying made my heart ache.

Laughter.

I held the feather so hard it bit into my palm., and whispered to nobody, “If you’re coming, I’ll be ready.”

But, man, the truth just sat there, choking me.

Peace? Gone. Done.

And Mira? She’s not coming back solo this time.

Dominic's pov.

That celebration was wild, like they were trying to wake the ancestors. Everyone was just letting loose, laughter bouncing around, voices tangling together, some folks even howling at the moon. But under all that chaos, my focus never left her.

Elora, the center of the universe tonight, somehow both shining and not making a fuss about it. She glided through the crowd like she had been practicing. Like it wasn't a big deal. People just naturally turned toward her, not because they were scared, but because they genuinely wanted to hear what she had to say. That’s a lot stronger than just barking orders, if you ask me.

So, when I called her up, the noise just ceased. You could’ve heard a pin drop.

“Elora,” I croaked out, voice still rough from weeks of hauling our lives back together... “You held us up when I couldn’t even stand. You carried this pack when I was basically a ghost. You led them through hell and somehow brought 'em all home.”

She looked at me then, eyes all soft edges and secrets, like she was holding back a whole storm of words.