Blood, Bone, and Binding

The Circle of Binding wasn’t on any map.

According to Kael, even Mira Hale had rarely spoken of it aloud. It was sacred, dangerous, and meant only for moments when the forest itself needed to choose not just who ruled, but who was worthy.

And now, it was calling to Ari.

For the first time in a week, the group left the barn behind. Kael led them at dawn, through unmarked trails so overgrown they had to carve their way forward with blades dulled from use. Lyra scouted ahead with wolf-speed. Jeremiah flanked the group, senses sharp, his crossbow always loaded. Erin stuck close to Ari, her boots crunching softly in the undergrowth.

Ari felt the pressure before she saw anything like the air thickened with history, secrets woven into the wind. Every step made her heart beat louder, but it wasn’t fear.

It was memory, awakening.

They reached it just before sunset.

The trees opened into a wide glade that didn’t belong to any season. The grass was green but dusted with frost. The sky above glowed amber, though no sun was visible.

And in the centre of it all: a ring of monolithic stones, each etched with deep runes that pulsed faintly with silver light. The ground within the ring had long been scorched, like fire and moonlight had danced together once and left ash behind.

“The Circle of Binding,” Kael said softly. “This is where Mira forged the last true Pact.”

Ari stepped toward it, but her legs felt heavy.

Erin touched her arm. “Are you okay?”

“She was here,” Ari whispered. “Mira. I can feel it.”

She walked into the circle.

And everything changed.

The world flared with silver.

Ari was no longer herself.

She saw through Mira Hale’s eyes a woman older than the legends suggested, her face carved by years of sorrow, yet bright with unyielding fire. Her silver braid lay heavy over her shoulder, a single wolf tooth bound at its tip.

Kael stood beside her younger, sharper. And across the circle: Saris Thorne.

But this Saris was still Hale-born. Her cloak was marked with the unbroken crescent. She hadn’t yet turned.

“We can stop this,” Mira said. “The bloodshed. The pride.”

Saris smiled kind, false. “You’re afraid of what we could become.”

“I’m afraid of what we’ll destroy in the process.”

“This Pact,” Saris said, stepping forward, “is a leash. You’ve taught our kind to fear their own power. I’ll teach them to own it.”

“You’ll burn everything.”

“I’ll free them.”

Saris reached for the centre of the circle. The sigils lit red, not silver.

And Mira struck her down.

Not to kill. But to warn.

The memory shattered.

Ari collapsed, gasping. Erin caught her.

“What did you see?” Kael asked.

“Mira. Saris. They fought here. But it was before Saris left. She tried to corrupt the Pact’s power to twist the Circle into something else.”

“She failed,” Kael said. “That time.”

Lyra crouched near the stone edge. “And if she tries again?”

“She’ll have more than twelve followers now,” Jeremiah muttered. “Her army’s growing.”

Ari stood slowly. “We can’t let her near this place.”

Erin frowned. “Then why come here?”

Kael answered. “Because the Circle doesn’t just protect the Pact. It tests it. And if Ari truly bears Mira’s mark…”

“She’ll be able to awaken it again,” Lyra finished.

“And if I can’t?” Ari asked.

Kael looked at her. “Then the forest chooses another way.”

That night, Ari stayed behind in the Circle.

The others camped beyond the glade, trusting the stones to shield her. Erin offered to stay, but Ari declined.

She needed to face this alone.

At the centre of the circle, she sat cross-legged, pendant in hand. The silver crescent glowed faintly as she pressed it to the stone beneath her.

The runes lit, one by one.

Then came the whispers.

Not voices, exactly more like sensations: running with wolves, shifting under moonlight, watching centuries turn to dust.

She saw Mira again older now, sitting beside a grave. A child’s grave.

Her own child.

“I tried to keep you safe,” Mira said, not looking up. “But blood demands stories, and stories demand sacrifice.”

Ari’s heart twisted.

Then came Saris standing at the Circle’s edge, surrounded by wolves with eyes like embers.

“You’ve awakened it,” Saris said.

Ari stood. “You corrupted it.”

“I freed it.”

“What you call freedom is madness.”

Saris smiled, eyes cruel. “Then be mad with me.”

The ground trembled.

Ari opened her eyes.

The stones pulsed.

And in the forest beyond something howled.

Miles away, Saris stood atop a jagged cliff, staring down at a valley swarming with her soldiers no longer just wolves, but shifters, hunters, and twisted spirits bound in flesh.

She smiled.

“She’s unlocked the Circle,” she said to Varek.

He knelt beside her, head bowed. “Shall we march?”

“No,” she said. “Let her feel the weight of legacy first. Let her believe she can win.”

Another acolyte approached a girl with smoke-coloured eyes and claw scars across her jaw.

“Report,” Saris said.

“We found the last Redmoor outpost,” the girl said. “Destroyed. Burned. No survivors.”

Seris’s smile widened.

“Then Mira’s bloodline is truly gone… except the girl.”

She turned toward the distant forest, where the moon rose fat and slow.

“It’s time to bring her home.”

Back at the Circle, Kael watched Ari sleep.

She lay at the centre, runes flickering beneath her, her breath steady but strained.

He’d seen this before when Mira first bond the Pact to her blood. It was never gentle. It wasn’t meant to be.

Lyra stood beside him, arms crossed. “She’s stronger than Mira was.”

“Maybe,” Kael said. “But she’s more alone.”

“No,” Lyra said. “She has us.”

Kael looked at her, eyes tired. “We’ll see.”

Jeremiah returned from the edge of the glade. “Trouble.”

“What kind?”

“Tracks. Not ours. Big ones. Clawed.”

Kael’s jaw clenched. “They found us.”

Lyra looked toward Ari. “Do we wake her?”

Kael shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Then we hold the line,” Jeremiah said, loading his crossbow.

And in the darkness beyond the stones, something moved fast, heavy, many-legged.

The first wave hit like a storm.

Twisted wolve larger than any natural beast, muscles roped with dark energy, eyes glowing red burst from the forest.

Kael met the first with a silver blade, slicing clean across its throat.

Lyra danced through the shadows, her knives singing, her movements a blur of strategy and fury.

Jeremiah dropped three before they reached the clearing, each bolt sinking deep into corrupted flesh.

But more came.

Dozens.

Then dozens more.

From the Circle’s centre, Ari stirred.

Her eyes snapped open.

The stones around her blazed.

Ari stood.

The pendant burned in her palm, brighter than fire.

And suddenly she knew.

This wasn’t just power. It was memory.

She saw every Hale before her Mira, Elias, Corin, Maeve. Each had stood where she stood. Each had faced the choice:

Rule the wild.

Or protect it.

Ari chose.

The Circle flared, silver flames leaping into the sky.

Wolves screamed.

Corrupted beasts caught in the edge of the glade burst into ash.

Kael turned, shielding his face from the light. “She did it.”

Lyra’s eyes widened. “She awakened the Pact.”

Erin ran toward Ari, ducking through chaos. “Are you?”

Ari turned.

Her eyes glowed silver.

But her voice was steady. “I remember everything.”

The forest quieted.

The corrupted fled.

The Circle pulsed once more, then dimmed.

Ari stepped to the edge of the stones. The others gathered around her.

She held out the pendant.

“It’s more than a key,” she said. “It’s a piece of Mira’s soul. Of everyone who bound themselves to the forest.”

Kael nodded. “And now it’s yours.”

Ari shook her head. “It’s ours. The Pact doesn’t belong to one bloodline. It belongs to all who defend it.”

Jeremiah muttered, “You sound like Mira.”

“Then maybe it’s time someone did.”

She looked at them tired, bloodied, but still standing.

“Saris is coming. Not just with wolves, but monsters. She wants to break this place. Corrupt it. Twist it into something else.”

Lyra smirked. “Let her try.”

Kael said, “The real war starts now.”

And from somewhere deep inside, Ari heard Mira’s voice again  distant, proud.

You are the flame. Burn bright. Burn true.