Chapter 26

 The Trial of Truth

The darkness pressed against Aria and Caden as they ventured deeper into the path, each step reverberating with an unseen energy that hummed through the stone beneath their feet. The air was thick, almost alive, pulling them forward with a force Aria couldn’t name. Her fingers tightened around Caden’s hand, the warmth of his grip anchoring her as Rollan’s faint breaths rustled against her chest in his sling. The seer’s final words lingered in her ears: “Face the truth of your bond, or all is lost.” Determination burned in her chest, but uncertainty gnawed at its edges.

Ahead, a shimmer broke the blackness—a curtain of liquid silver suspended in the air, rippling as if stirred by an invisible hand. Caden paused, his free hand resting on his sword’s hilt. “This doesn’t feel right,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

“We’ve come too far to turn back,” Aria replied, her tone steadier than she felt. “The seer pointed us here. We have to trust it.”

With a nod, they stepped through the veil together. The world shifted, the oppressive dark giving way to a boundless expanse of swirling mist and light. Colors bled together—gold, shadow, and hints of crimson—while fragments of their past flickered like fireflies at the edges of their sight. Aria’s breath hitched, a chill racing down her spine as the seer’s magic unfurled around them.

A voice, deep and resonant, echoed through the void. “To break the curse and shape the prophecy, you must first see yourselves. Relive what was, face what is, and choose what will be.”

The mist parted, and a vision snapped into focus. It was the night they met—three years ago at the Gala on Wolfcrest Avenue. Aria saw herself, younger and unguarded, standing by the bar in a red dress that hugged her frame. Her eyes scanned the room, restless, until they landed on Caden. He strode in, broad-shouldered and fierce, his face etched with a quiet storm of emotion. But this time, a golden thread shimmered between them, faint but undeniable, pulsing with every step he took toward her.

Aria’s heart skipped. “What is that?”

Caden’s voice was hushed, awed. “Our bond. It was always there.”

The scene flowed forward, showing their first kiss under the Gala’s dim lights. The thread glowed brighter, a lifeline in the chaos. Then it leaped to the night of Rollan’s conception—a blur of tangled limbs and whispered vows. But as their love ignited, a shadow crept in, wrapping around the golden thread. Aria’s cursed blood awakened, a dark coil that lashed out, severing Caden’s wolf with a silent, brutal snap. The vision froze, the shadow thick and oppressive.

Tears stung Aria’s eyes as she pressed a hand to her mouth. “It was me. I took your wolf.”

Caden’s jaw tightened, but he shook his head. “We didn’t choose this. It wasn’t your fault.”

Before she could argue, the vision shifted again. Victor appeared, not the spectral taunter from the chamber, but alive, flesh and blood, watching them from the Gala’s shadows. His golden eyes gleamed with calculation as he murmured to a cloaked figure beside him, “The cursed blood and the alpha. Their child will serve the prophecy, my prophecy.”

Aria’s stomach dropped. “He orchestrated it. Us. Rollan.”

Caden’s fists clenched, his voice a growl. “He used us to get to him.”

The mist churned, and Victor’s ghostly form materialized before them, his laughter a cold blade slicing through the air. “You’re catching on, aren’t you? Your bond was my design—a perfect trap. The child’s blood will either free me or destroy you all.”

Aria’s anger flared, hot and sharp. “You’re a liar. You can’t control us anymore.”

Victor’s smirk widened, his gaze cutting between them. “Can’t I? Look at your alpha, stripped of his strength. And you, a walking plague. Your love is weakness, not power.”

Caden stepped closer, his presence a shield. “You’re dead, Victor. Your words mean nothing.”

“The prophecy lives through me,” Victor sneered. “Doubt your bond, and you’ll hand me victory yet.”

His form dissolved into the mist, but his taunts lingered, a poison seeping into their thoughts. Aria turned to Caden, her voice trembling. “What if he’s right? What if our bond is cursed?”

Caden’s hand found her face, his touch firm and steady. “He’s wrong. Our bond is ours—not his.”

The landscape rippled, unveiling a final vision. Rollan stood at a crossroads, older, his mark glowing faintly. One path stretched toward a burning wasteland, littered with fallen warriors. The other led to a green valley, wolves and humans standing together in peace. At the center, Aria and Caden faced each other, the golden thread between them blazing. Their hands bled, drops of crimson mingling on the ground.

The seer’s voice returned, calm but insistent. “The curse demands a price—blood freely given, bound by love. Only then can the prophecy turn from ruin to renewal.”

The vision faded, leaving them in a quiet haze. Aria’s mind spun, the weight of the words pressing down. “A blood sacrifice,” she whispered. “From both of us.”

Caden nodded, his expression grim but resolute. “It’s a choice. To prove our bond can overcome the curse.”

The mist cleared, revealing a stone archway ahead, its runes pulsing with golden light. Beyond it, a rugged mountain trail stretched into the distance. The trial was over, but its truth hung heavy between them.

Aria met Caden’s gaze, her voice soft but firm. “We can do this. For Rollan.”

“For us,” he added, squeezing her hand.

They crossed the archway, emerging into a narrow pass where the wind howled through the peaks. The path ahead was steep and unforgiving, but a shared strength steadied their steps. They understood the sacrifice ahead—blood and love intertwined to break the curse and shape Rollan’s fate. As they pressed on, a distant howl pierced the air, a reminder that Victor’s loyalists were closing in. Time was slipping away, but their resolve held firm.