Pov: Aiden. Outskirts of Black Hollow – Aiden’s CampThe compound wasn’t on any map. It was buried in the woods, surrounded by motion sensors and steel gates, humming with power. The inside was cold concrete and sharp light—no warmth, no ceremony.Aiden stood before the table where the weapon lay.It didn’t look like much—just a sleek, silver-edged device the length of a forearm. Smooth. Mechanical. A blend of old blood science and modern precision. Not forged. Engineered. Designed to sever something deeper than flesh.He turned as Mercer entered the room, voice clipped. “It’s ready.”“Are you sure?” Aiden asked, not even glancing back.“We’ve run it through four tests. It doesn’t just injure—it disables the shift entirely. Like flipping a breaker in their DNA.”Aiden’s eyes glinted with something that wasn’t triumph—more like grim satisfaction. “Perfect.”He lifted the device and strapped it to his forearm, the mechanism snapping into place beneath his sleeve.“How many know about t
Pov: Asher. The Moon Room – Raven’s Peak. The overhead lights in the Moon Room cast a clean, soft glow over the wide table at the center, scattered with open laptops, maps, and half-drunk mugs of coffee. The large windows were shut tight against the early evening chill, the sky outside just beginning to darken.Asher stood at the head of the table, sleeves rolled up, expression serious. Around him, the council filtered in—Vivianne in a dark blazer, leaning on her tablet; Augustus in a battered hoodie, arms folded, jaw tense; Mira with her laptop open and fingers poised over the keys.Ember sat close, silent but watchful, her phone buzzing faintly with incoming updates from the lookout teams.Asher cleared his throat, and the quiet in the room clicked into place.“I’ll get straight to it,” he began. “We’ve confirmed sightings of Aiden’s people near Hollow Ridge. Drone footage, heat signatures. They’re close—and they’re moving with purpose.”A low ripple of reaction moved around the t
Pov: Vivianne. The diner was almost empty—just a kid mopping near the back, earbuds in, and an old man nursing coffee at the window. Rain streaked the glass in soft lines, and the neon OPEN sign buzzed faintly overhead.Vivianne sat in a corner booth, hoodie up, one hand wrapped around a mug that had long gone cold. Across from her, Enid slid into the seat, still wearing her leather jacket, drops of rain clinging to the collar.“You’re late,” Vivianne said, not looking up.“You’re paranoid,” Enid replied, tossing her phone face-down on the table. “Good. That means you’re paying attention.”They sat in silence for a few seconds. The hum of traffic outside was distant, a low reminder of the world still turning.Enid leaned in. “Aiden’s moving soon.”Vivianne’s gaze lifted.“We’ve finished the weapon. Took what we needed from the ridge before Asher brought it down. Whatever that place had—it’s in our hands now. Contained. Portable. It works.”Vivianne didn’t flinch, but her fingers tigh
FLASHBACK: Pov: Asher. The charges had barely stopped echoing when the ridge retaliated.A sound like metal grinding beneath the earth split the air, followed by a low moan that felt sentient. The land cracked where Asher had set the explosives, coughing up dust and ash. Lupa was the first to move, her form shifting mid-run into something wolfish and fast. Maren followed, her blades already drawn. Silas brought up the rear, chanting under his breath, trying to keep the wards stable.Then came the skeletons—half-buried at first, then bursting free from the fractured soil. Bones clad in scraps of fur and rusted iron, the remnants of werewolves long dead, twisted into grotesque shapes. Their sockets burned with cold light.“Hold the line!” Lupa shouted, lunging into the fray. Her claws shredded the first wave, but more came—silent, tireless, ancient.Silas stood his ground at the ridge’s mouth, runes glowing faint on his forearms. “These aren’t just bones,” he muttered, “they remember—
POV: Asher. They reached the edge of the deadland just after nightfall, when the wind was low and the sky a dull slate. The trees thinned until they disappeared entirely, giving way to cracked soil and tangled black veins that no longer pulsed. The ridge loomed ahead, jagged and unnatural, its magic faded like an old scar.Asher raised a hand. “We do this quickly. Charges at the root clusters. No second passes.”Lupa scanned the ground, eyes silver in the low light. “It’s quiet.”“Too quiet,” Maren muttered, unspooling the wire. “I don’t trust it.”Silas crouched beside a crooked root, its bark flaking like ash. He pressed two fingers to it—no warmth, no pulse, no resistance. “It’s hollow. Empty.”“Good,” Asher said. “It means we’re close.”They fanned out across the base of the ridge, moving in practiced silence. Where once the land thrummed beneath their boots, now there was only stillness—dead and dry. The roots were brittle, breaking under even light pressure. What had once resis
POV: Ember. The sky wept the morning of Dalia’s funeral.Thin sheets of rain rolled over the stones and down the black coats of the mourners gathered in Raven’s Peak’s high glade—an ancient place, older than names, where the mountain kept its secrets and its dead. The earth had been opened in the clearing near the old ash tree, where the roots once whispered to the oldest bloodlines of their kind.Ember stood at the edge of the grave, her fingers clenched around a bundle of wildflowers—yarrow, sage, and marigold. Her sister would have hated the rain. She would have made a joke about mud and ruined boots, teased Ember for getting too serious. But Dalia wasn’t here to laugh anymore. Only the cold wind and the solemn circle of the Pack, heads bowed in silence.Ember stepped forward.“I don’t have enough words,” she said, her voice steady though the grief was a tight, burning knot in her chest. “Dalia never asked for a place in history. She just wanted to protect what mattered. She made
POV: Ember. Infirmary – Three Days LaterThe snow had softened outside, clinging quietly to the windows. Inside, the infirmary was calm. Ember sat propped against a stack of blankets, still pale, still weak, but alive.She watched the flakes drift with a kind of quiet awe, as though the world outside kept going, unaware of what had almost been lost.Asher sat at her side, fingers loosely laced with hers.“I feel like I was gone for weeks,” she said, voice hoarse but steadier now.“You were,” he said softly. “And still… you came back.”She looked at him, then down at their hands. “I saw him, Asher. Aiden. Not a memory—him. Inside the dream. Talking like he was just… waiting.”Asher’s jaw clenched. “What did he say?”“That I was soft. That I led with love. That I let people in.” She paused. “And he used that against me.”“But it’s also what brought you back,” he said. “You let me in.”She smiled faintly. “Then maybe that’s our answer.”****POV: Raven’s Peak – Moon Room, Same DayThe fi
POV: Infirmary – Night of the Same DayThe room had dimmed to whispers. The candles had long since burned low, and the world outside was snow and shadow. Ember lay still beneath wool blankets, her skin damp and too pale, her breathing shallow and uneven.And in her mind, something stirred.A whisper, too soft to trace. Then words—clear, cold.“This is what love costs you, Ember.”She turned in the fevered dark, trying to escape it, but the voice followed.“You let someone close. You let your heart guide you. And now look.”Aiden.She tried to speak—to scream—but her lips didn’t move. In the dream, she stood in the middle of Raven’s Peak, and all around her, the people were falling. Dalia. Mira. Even Asher, blood on his hands and sorrow in his eyes.“You were warned.”“No,” she whispered into the void. “This isn’t real.”“It doesn’t need to be.”His voice smiled.“It’s already planted inside you.”****POV: Raven’s Peak – Moon Room, Just After MidnightTension hung like smoke. Vivianne
Pov: Asher. POV: Raven’s Peak – That EveningThe fire crackled low in the hearth, throwing flickering light across the stone walls of the gathering room. Asher leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Ember across the room as she scribbled something into her notebook.She looked… off.It was in the way her hand paused between lines. The way her shoulders were tighter than usual. And the color in her face—too pale. Her eyes were ringed with a fatigue he hadn’t seen before, even in the worst weeks.He cleared his throat gently. “You’ve been pushing too hard.”Ember didn’t look up. “We all are.”“I mean it.”She finally glanced up, meeting his eyes. For a moment, something flickered behind them—pain, maybe. Or confusion. But it vanished too fast.“I’m fine,” she said, but her voice wavered, just slightly.Asher stepped closer. “You don’t look fine.”“I just need rest.” She stood, and he instinctively reached a hand out to steady her when she swayed.Her skin felt hot. Fevere