CHAPTER FIVE

The last howl faded into the darkness as quickly as it had started like someone had shut it up.

I didn't wait to see if another beast was coming. I picked myself up with what strength I had left in me,

and walked.

Until the forest opened into a wide clearing surrounded by jagged mountains.

There it was just like it was described in the old story that had been passed down generations.

A dark gate, carved into the side of the mountain, wrapped in black vines that pulsed like veins. Two massive stone statues flanked it, creatures with wings, horns, and hollow eyes that seemed to follow my every move.

I was in the Lycan King's territory.

A growl rumbled from the shadows.

I dropped to my knees, hands in the dirt. "Please," I whispered. "I'm not here to fight."

From behind one of the statues, a towering figure stepped forward.

He wore dark armor streaked with mud and blood, and his face was hidden beneath a silver wolf mask.

A guardian.

"You shouldn't be here," he said, his voice like gravel and thunder.

"I didn't come to trespass. I came to beg."

The mask shifted, "Begging here means death."

"I don't care," I said. And I meant it.

I was nothing now. My body was failing, my heart splintered. Dorian was dying, and I couldn't help him. Unless…

"Please," I whispered again. "Let me see the Lycan King. I... I saved him once. I assure you, he would want to see me. Please.”

The guardian said nothing for a long time. His mask tilted toward the pendant around my neck. The blood-stained crystal glinted in the moonlight.

"You shouldn't have that," he said slowly.

"I didn't steal it."

"Why do you have it then?” he said in a low, dangerous voice.

And suddenly he moved.

I barely saw it, just the rush of air as he appeared beside me and grabbed my collar, yanking me to my feet like I weighed nothing.

"You think that pendant makes you special and you can walk in here, like you're the chosen one?" he growled.

"I don't care about being chosen! I care about saving him!"

He hesitated. I saw it in the clench of his jaw beneath the mask, in the slight shake of his fingers.

The silence between us was deafening.

Then…

He dropped me.

I collapsed, knees scraping rock.

"Please," I said, my voice a hoarse whisper. "I've walked for two days without sleep. I've eaten nothing. I've been hunted, bled, cursed, spat on…” My breath caught. "I have nothing left. Except him."

The guardian didn't respond.

I crawled forward, each movement agony. "I know I'm not special. I know I don't belong here. But if there's a chance, any chance at all that the king can help Dorian, then let me try."

The guardian looked toward the mountain.

And suddenly, I heard it faint but unmistakable.

A heartbeat was coming from the mountains.

It echoed from within the stone like a pulse in the earth itself.

He's here.

The Lycan King.

Was watching.

I turned toward the sound instinctively. My heart raced.

"I can feel him," I whispered. "Can't you?"

The guardian said nothing for a long time.

"He's already watching."

I looked up sharply. "What?"

But the guardian turned away. "If he wants to see you, he will."

That was it.

No promise. No path.

Just a choice left in the hands of a monster cloaked in myth.

Silence…

I didn't know why, but I could swear something beyond just stone heard my cry.

I dragged myself back to the gate, collapsed against the cold rock, and curled into myself.

I couldn't walk anymore.

Couldn't breathe.

Couldn't cry.

I was beyond tears now. My soul had gone quiet. I wanted to die… life would be meaningless without Dorian.

"You'll die out here," the guardian said finally, his voice flat, uncaring jostling me back to reality.

"This is not a place for mortals," he said. "You came here to awaken something that shouldn't be disturbed. Are you ready to pay the price?"

My lips trembled. But I nodded.

"No fear," he murmured, more to himself than me.

"I'm terrified," I said truthfully. "But I love him more than my life, please help me.”

A groan deep in the earth, as if stone itself stirred from slumber. The vines on the gate twitched and recoiled, pulling back like frightened snakes. The statues flanking the entrance shuddered.

And the gate, huge, unmoving for what could’ve been centuries opened, but not enough to enter.

Just to tease me.

The guardian stepped in front of me, suddenly alarmed.

"He's testing you," he said, tone clipped. "It is a warning, not an invitation.”

"Then let me prove myself."

"You don't prove anything to the King," the guardian snapped. "He already knows who you are."

I stiffened. "Then... why won’t he see me?"

"Because knowing who you are and wanting to see you aren't the same thing."

The gate pulsed. That heartbeat again louder now.

He was listening.

I didn’t know if that made me feel hope or dread.

The guardian didn’t help me.

Instead, he threw something at my feet.

A small, flat stone. Inscribed with a single symbol one I didn’t recognize. It glowed faintly, with the same weird red symbol as the pendant when it bled.

"What is it?" I whispered.

"A marker," he said. "If you’re still alive by nightfall, take it into the woods. You’ll be judged. And if you pass… he might see you."

"Might?" I croaked.

The guardian gave a humorless chuckle. "You’re asking to stand before a god, girl. If he wants you dead, nothing in this world will save you."

“I’m not leaving!” I screamed toward the gate. “You hear me? Kill me, curse me, whatever but I’m not leaving without seeing him.”

The vines on the gate shuddered.

I didn’t care.

The pain was everywhere now, but I used it.

“You’re a king, right?” I spat. “Then act like one. Face me!”

Silence.

The trees behind me went still.

Then a single low growl deep. From the earth itself.

The guardian’s voice rang out again from nowhere and everywhere.

“You’ve been marked.”

“What?”

“You passed.”

“What does that mean? What did I pass?!”

No answer.

The gate pulsed once more.

And then... closed.

Slamming shut with a thunderous boom.

“No!” I screamed as I ran to it, pounded my fists. “You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to watch me crawl and then turn away!”

But the mountain was done responding.

I slid down the stone, sobbing now. Loud, broken.

And then—footsteps.

The guardian returned. But slower this time. No blade. Just eyes.

He looked at me.

Not with anger.

But something... else.

“You made him hesitate,” he said.

I looked up. “Then why didn’t he open the gate?”

The guardian stared at the pendant. “He doesn’t open doors. He waits for you to survive what’s behind them.”

“What now?” I whispered.

“Now?” He tossed me a water pouch and a single strip of dried meat. “Now you rest.”

I stared at the offering. It wasn’t kindness. It was preparation.

“For what?” I asked.

“For the Trial.”

"Then let me die," I murmured. "Better here than where I came from."