Chapter 39: Secrets of the Inner Circle

The cold stone corridor beneath the palace throbbed with ancient magic.

Serena’s boots echoed against the floor as she moved beside Elias, deeper into the hidden passage the seer had shown them—an entrance buried behind the royal archives, known only to the rulers of Crescentra and those in the Inner Circle. Only now had Elias broken centuries of silence to reveal it to her.

“This place...” Serena whispered, fingers brushing the moss-laced walls, “it feels like it’s alive.”

“It is,” Elias muttered, his jaw tight. “This path was carved with blood oaths. It remembers everyone who’s walked it, and it never forgets a traitor.”

Their torches cast flickering shadows across the worn runes on the walls. Symbols Serena didn’t recognize twisted and curled like veins across the stone. She felt them hum beneath her skin, a low vibration that tugged at something deep inside her. Something ancient.

Finally, they entered a rounded chamber. Its walls curved upward into a dome, and at its center sat a stone altar carved with sigils older than the Crescentra throne. It was simple, unadorned, but pulsing with power that made the air feel heavy and electric.

Elias stepped forward and placed his palm on the altar.

A pulse of blue light surged through the room, racing along the runes and into the walls. The magic recognized him—and her.

Suddenly, Serena’s knees buckled.

The chamber blurred.

A vision slammed into her with the force of a tidal wave.

She saw herself—draped in gold, her hair loose and wild. She stood at the center of a blazing circle of fire. All around her were wolves. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. Some bowed low in submission, others growled with defiance. And in her hand—was a blade. A dagger, blackened by blood and burning with celestial light.

Her eyes glowed a violent violet.

Her voice thundered with command.

She wasn’t just a queen.

She was a conqueror.

Then, darkness.

Serena gasped and staggered back, her breath ragged. The vision shattered, and the chamber snapped back into focus.

Elias caught her before she fell, steadying her. “You saw it, didn’t you?”

She nodded, shaking, still reeling. “I... I saw me. I was leading them. They followed me. I think I—no, I know I had power. Real power.”

“That’s why I brought you here,” Elias said, his voice quiet but urgent. “You were never meant to be a pawn in their games. You’re the fulcrum—the one the prophecy spoke of. My father tried to bury it. The Council burned the records. But the Inner Circle preserved it. You're the one who unites the bloodlines of moon and fire.”

She looked at the dagger resting on the altar. It was the same one from her vision. “Then it’s true,” she said. “The reason I was marked... the reason my wolf has been dormant—it’s all tied to this.”

“Yes,” Elias said. “Your bloodline is older than even mine. You're not just a mate or a queen. You're the key to breaking the Council’s control.”

Serena stared down at her hands. They trembled slightly. Not with fear—but with weight. For so long, she’d fought to survive, to resist the bond, to protect herself. But now... now she understood.

This was never about surviving.

It was about awakening.

Before Elias could say more, a low growl echoed from behind them in the corridor.

They froze.

Another growl—closer, guttural, primal.

Elias stepped in front of Serena, his body tense. “Stay behind me,” he muttered.

From the shadows emerged a wolf—massive, pitch-black, with glowing crimson eyes. Its fur shimmered with darkness, like smoke coiling off its hide.

Serena stiffened. “What... what is that?”

“The Shadowhound,” Elias said grimly. “An ancient beast bred by the Council. It only hunts one kind of prey—those who betray the laws.”

“But we didn’t—”

“They think we have.”

The Shadowhound lunged.

Elias shifted mid-air, his bones cracking and reshaping into his silver wolf form. The two beasts collided with a thunderous crash, claws raking, fangs snapping.

Serena scrambled to the altar, her eyes locking on the dagger.

Her fingers wrapped around the hilt, and warmth surged up her arm. It vibrated with power—as if it recognized her. She turned just as the Shadowhound pinned Elias beneath it, jaws closing around his throat.

“No!” Serena cried, and without hesitation, she drove the dagger into the beast’s flank.

The Shadowhound shrieked, a horrid sound that shook the stones. Light erupted from the blade’s wound, slicing through the creature like fire. It writhed, then exploded into ash.

Silence fell.

Elias shifted back, bloodied and panting, as Serena dropped to her knees beside him. “You’re hurt,” she said, hands already glowing with a faint golden energy.

He gave a small smile. “I’ve had worse. You saved me.”

“You’d have done the same.”

His hand curled around hers. “You are the prophecy, Serena.”

She met his eyes. “Then we bring it to life.”

They rose together, and Serena tucked the dagger into her belt.

There would be no turning back now.

But as they stepped out of the chamber, Serena felt something shift inside her—a presence awakening, rising with her blood.

Her wolf stirred.

And this time, it didn’t fight her.

It welcomed her.