The first thing I became aware of was the sterile sting of herbs in the air. My eyelids felt like stone, heavy and resistant, but I forced them open to the blur of white walls and muted sunlight bleeding through thin curtains.I was alive.A sharp ache rippled through my chest at the memory of thorns shredding my skin, of shadows whispering lies in the labyrinth. My hand twitched towards the spot over my sternum, and I felt the raised welt of the mark — the crescent moon entwined with thorns. The proof that I had survived a nightmare. I shifted, groaning as pain flared down my side. That's when I noticed him.Cassian.He stood by the window, tall, broad-shouldered, still in the same blood-streaked clothes from the arena. His arms were crossed, his posture a wall of steel. He wasn't looking at me, but I knew he'd felt me stir — the way his shoulders tightened, the subtle twitch in his jaw."What are you doing here?" My voice came out raw, scraped thin, but I refused to let it tremble.
My knees trembled, but I forced my body to move. Step by step, skin raw and bloodied. My chest still burned from the thorns' pierce, my palms torn and crusted with blood. But I was walking. I was alive.The passage widened, the light growing brighter, until finally, I stepped through the archway.The roar that met me nearly knocked me backward.Rows upon rows of pack members filled the arena stands, their eyes wide, their mouths parting in awe or disbelief. I staggered into the open space, blood-soaked, battered, but not broken.The drums cut off. Silence fell heavy and thick.Nicole stood at the edge of the circle, hands over his mouth, eyes shimmering. Behind him, elders and warriors stared at me as though I had just risen from the dead.I blinked against the sunlight. My body swayed, every ounce of strength drained, but I forced myself to keep standing. My chest heaved. My heart pounded.The silver mark burned faintly on my skin—over my sternum, right where my hand had pressed aga
The ground split beneath me as the beast thundered forward, thorns snapping and grinding under its weight. Its maw opened wide, silver fire spilling from its jagged teeth. My chest tightened—not from fear, but from the suffocating pressure of its presence.Or both.I rolled aside as its claws swiped the air, ripping the ground where I had been standing to ribbons. Dust and shards of thorn filled my lungs. I staggered back to my feet, cloak dragging, every nerve screaming.It was fast and strong.I had no weapon. Nothing but my hands, my blood, my will. I would survive.I didn’t feel fear or panic. I was numb. The only emotion that coursed through my veins was determination—determination to survive, to see this through.The wolf turned its head toward me, eyes locking with mine. Cold. Piercing. As if it could see everything I tried to bury—my fear, my grief, my anger.It lunged again, faster this time.I braced.When its claw struck, I caught it with both hands. The impact sent me skid
Still on my knees and arms, I coughed. My body wasn't healing due to the poison the thorns had. How long was I expected to survive in here? I glanced up, still trying to catch my breath. The labyrinth opened, a path forming ahead. I shook off the exhaustion, standing to my feet. I stepped into it, tattered cloak dragging across the jagged ground. Every thorn that brushed me tore skin, but the pain kept me sharp, awake. Minutes — or hours — passed. I couldn't tell. The path twisted endlessly, each turn revealing another wall of thorns shifting into place, closing me in. My skin still stung, my skin sticky with blood and sweat. Every nerve in my body was alert, cautious. I didn't trust this callous place one bit, or the damn thorns. Then the whispers started."Talia..."I shut my eyes. I won't fall for it again, I won't. They did it with my mother. I won't let them do it again. I kept walking. Then came the voice again, "Talia". I swallowed, unwillingly to look back even though eve
What is this ? My heart thundered, fear gripping me tightly. The thorns pulsed, alive, their tips gleaming with droplets of poison that hissed when they hit the stone floor. No way in hell. I spun around, ready to leave when a voice called out to me, stopping me in my tracks. It sounded familiar yet I couldn't place my finger on it. I turned back around, staring at the path. "Come to me," a voice whispered. I frowned. "Come on,". It urged gently. The voice was alluring, tempting. My heart beat slowed and a sudden calm washed over me, my fears gone, forgotten. My ears perked up at the sound of the whispers. It was soothing, like a mother's lullaby. A mother. "Mum?" I called out. My eyes glassy. "Mum?" I stepped in, lost in a trance, a trance to find my mother. "Come on," it called out and I went deeper, letting the voice lead me. A smile graced my lips, my heart feeling with an unfamiliar warmth. I giggled. And then, I hissed. A thorn cut my skin, snapping me out of the trance. I
The hush that settled over the arena was oppressive, like the air had thickened, pressing down on my chest.I stood alone in the centre, the dark cloak swirling around my ankles, the sun burning overhead. The arena was ancient, a part of the pack I'd never seen. Silent witnesses lined the stone seating, watching. Alphas, Elders, soldiers, traitors. My mother sat with the council. Tasha was nowhere in sight. Cassian was still.An elder stood, her grey hair left down, cascading down her aging body in waves. I would've considered the hair beautiful, but fuck that hag. "Let the ritual begin!" She declared. A horn blew, loud and deafening. I spared one last glance at Cassian. His calm demeanour faltered, his hands gripping the arm of his seat tightly. He was on edge. Good. The ground beneath my feet trembled.And the wall on the opposite direction of where I came from creaked open. A cold gust of wind escaped, sending my hair flailing around. I raised my hand, shielding my face from the