Chapter 10: Threads of Protection

Aurora stood in her third-floor guest room the following morning, her silver-blue eyes tracing the delicate filigree of the window frame, trying to see if she could sense anything from the runes themselves or beyond.

A gentle knock broke her reverie. Marcus stood in the hallway, “Ready for breakfast, Wildheart?” he asked, his voice warm. “Kiyiya’s expecting us, and I hear she makes a mean pancake stack.”

Aurora’s lips curved into a smile, the tension in her chest easing. “Only if you’re not stealing my share, Gamma,” pulling on a light sweater and jeans. Marcus’s presence, rooted in their shared history of saving each other from rogue shifters and collapsing crypts, felt more and more like a lifeline amidst the growing mystery.

They descended to the second-floor dining hall, where the scent of fresh pancakes and maple syrup mingled with the chatter of pack members. Luna Kiyiya sat at a long table, her auburn hair catching the morning light, her warm hazel eyes exuding quiet strength. Her young son, Cuan, a bundle of energy with curly brown hair, sat in her lap, giggling as he played with a wooden wolf figurine. Kiyiya’s smile widened as she spotted Aurora and Marcus. “Good morning,” she said, her voice melodic and her smile wide.

Aurora returned the smile, charmed by Cuan’s infectious laughter. “He’s adorable,” she said, settling across from Kiyiya. “No apology needed. Thanks for meeting us.”

Marcus slid into the seat beside Aurora, his grin roguish. “Yeah, especially if pancakes are involved. You’re a legend already, Luna.”

Kiyiya laughed, adjusting Cuan in her lap. “Flattery won’t get you extras, Marcus, but I’ll keep it in mind.” She reached into a velvet pouch on the table, pulling out a collection of pendants and bracelets, each adorned with tiny runes that shimmered with a faint, pure light. “I wanted to show you something” the Luna’s change in demeanor and topic automatically made the two sit up straighter, listening with anticipation.

“These are Bloodmoon’s protective charms,” she explained, her tone shifting to reverence. “Crafted with the same magic as our pack house runes, they help shield our people from corrupted spirits when they venture beyond our wards. Each is unique, tied to the wearer’s spirit.”

Aurora leaned forward, her silver-blue eyes tracing a silver pendant shaped like a crescent moon, its rune glowing softly. “They’re beautiful,” she said, her voice tinged with awe. “Do they work against Nightshade’s magic?”

Kiyiya nodded, her hazel eyes serious. “They dampen the influence of dark forces, like the creatures you fought. The runes draw on the land’s pure spirits, countering corruption.” She hesitated, her gaze softening. “Aurora, I’d like to craft one for you. Your connection to the runes… it’s strong. A charm could protect you on your journey to Vaeloria Isle.”

Aurora’s heart warmed at the offer, a sense of belonging stirring within her. “I’d be honored,” she said, her voice sincere. “Thank you, Kiyiya.”

Cuan giggled, reaching for the pendant, and Kiyiya gently guided his hand away. “This one’s for Aurora, little wolf,” she said, smiling. “We’ll make hers special.”

The dining hall door opened, and Althea entered, her black hair cascading over her shoulders, her purple eyes sparkling with warmth. “Morning, everyone,” she said, her gaze lingering on Marcus with a teasing glint. “Not causing trouble already, are you, Gamma?”

Marcus’s grin widened, his emerald eyes twinkling. “Only the best kind, Althea. Care to join us for pancakes? I’ll save you the fluffiest one.”

Aurora seized the moment, as Althea sat across from Marcus, her tone softening. “Althea, Kiyiya… I need to ask. The runes, the prophecy—do you know anything more about my destiny? My past? I keep feeling like you recognize something in me, but no one’s saying it.”

Althea’s purple eyes flickered with hesitation, exchanging a glance with Kiyiya. “Your connection to the runes is… unique,” she said carefully. “Elara’s visions mention a she-wolf marked by loss, tied to the land’s spirits. We don’t know more, but… your presence feels familiar, like an echo of our pack’s history.”

Kiyiya nodded, her hazel eyes gentle. “The runes respond to you in ways we’ve never seen. It’s possible your past is tied to the Bloodmoon, but Elara’s the one to ask. She’s seen things we haven’t.”

Aurora’s heart sank, the vague answers deepening her unease. The cloaked figure’s familiar face haunted her, stirring buried memories. Before she could press further, a sharp tremor shook the pack house, the runes flaring with a blinding light. A low, guttural hum—not a snarl, but something deeper—echoed from the forest, sending her wolf stirring beneath her skin.

“Another breach!” Leo shouted, bursting into the dining hall with Damien. The team surged to their feet, racing to the foyer. Through the rune-etched windows, a dense, smoky fog rolled in, its tendrils clawing at the wards, laced with the same sinister energy as the creatures and the cloaked figure.

“It’s not wolves,” Maya said, joining them, her voice tense. “It’s magic—Nightshade’s probing us again.”

Damien’s voice was a growl. “The runes are weakening. We need to reinforce them.”

Althea began chanting, her voice weaving ancient words, while Damien sliced his palm, letting blood drip onto the central rune. The wards surged, pushing the fog back, but a whisper echoed in Aurora’s mind: The chosen will fall. Her silver-blue eyes widened, locking onto Marcus, who mindlinked her instantly. “You heard that, didn’t you? Stay close.”

She nodded, her resolve fueled by their bond. “They know we’re planning for Vaeloria,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the fear.

Mikhail, who had appeared silently, spoke, his tone too calm. “We’ll investigate this fog. Aurora, report any impressions immediately.” His amber eyes lingered, a shadow of calculation deepening her suspicion. The men of the group shifted, running out of the pack house.