The clearing burned with unnatural heat.Flames danced along the edges of the runes carved into the earth, their glow pulsing in rhythm with Seraphina's breath. Sweat dripped down her spine, her body trembling from the strain of holding the spell steady.It wasn't just a ritual.It was a gamble.She had studied the passage a dozen times in Morgana's journal, tracing each symbol, memorizing every word of warning."Fire is the blood of truth. Once summoned, it cannot lie. But it does not give without taking."Orion stood at the edge of the circle, arms crossed, his expression tight with unease. "You're not ready for this," he said for the third time."I wasn't ready for the curse either," Seraphina murmured. "But it came anyway."Her voice was low, steady. But inside, a storm brewed.She had to know.She had to see beyond the veil of fate and fear. To understand what her ancestors had started and what it would truly take to end it. The curse was no longer a shadow on the horizon. It was
Seraphina stood before Dorian, her heart heavy with a mixture of fury, heartbreak, and confusion. Her fingers trembled, not from fear, but from the sheer weight of the question that had been haunting her for weeks. Why hadn't he defended her? She had bled for him, fought for him, and yet when the world turned its gaze upon her when her life was on the line he had been silent. That silence had eaten at her, gnawed at the edges of her trust in him. "Why?" she demanded again, her voice low but laced with an undeniable edge of pain. "Why didn't you defend me? Why didn't you speak up when they called for my execution?" Dorian's eyes flickered to hers, but he didn't speak. The room between them felt impossibly vast, as if the air itself conspired to keep them apart. His jaw tightened, and his fingers flexed at his sides, as though he was resisting some primal urge to reach out and claim her. But he held back, a wall of regret and uncertainty clouding his features. "Seraphina..." His v
The air was thick with tension, the kind that settled in your bones and made it hard to breathe. The crowd gathered around the center of the town square was a mix of fear and anticipation, waiting for the inevitable. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a dim light over the stage of Seraphina Vale’s death. It was a cruel irony that this was her final dawn, and the very warmth of the sun seemed to mock her as it spread across the cold stone beneath her feet. Seraphina’s wrists were bound by silver chains, burning into her skin with every movement. Her once-beautiful gown, stained with dirt and blood, clung to her frame like a shroud. Her dark hair, usually wild and untamed, hung in matted strands around her face, a stark contrast to the calm resolve she wore on the outside. Her heart beat fiercely in her chest, but there was no fear in her. There was only acceptance. The last of the Vale witches was to be burned at dawn, and there was no escape from it. The town had already cond
Seraphina’s heart pounded in her chest as she stood there, her wrists still bound in silver chains, the weight of her new reality settling in with a heaviness that almost crushed her. The bond between them had snapped into place like a curse, invisible but unbreakable. Alpha Dorian Nightbane had claimed her, and now her very existence was tied to his in ways she couldn’t yet understand and didn’t want to.Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the ancient, primal force that seemed to pulse through her veins, linking her to him. There was no turning back. She could feel it now, that pulsing connection, deep and unwavering. It was there, always, whether she liked it or not. But Seraphina was no stranger to curses. She had lived with them all her life, carried the burden of her family's dark magic like a shadow that followed her every step. What was one more curse to add to the pile?Dorian stood before her, his gaze unwavering, as the crowd slowly began to disperse. They were all too
The night had descended upon them like a cloak of shadows, the moon hanging high in the sky, blood-red and foreboding. The Bloodmoon. It was said that when the moon turned such a color, destinies were sealed and fates were rewritten. For Seraphina Vale, the night was an omen one she had no choice but to face. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stood before the altar, the weight of her decision pressing heavily upon her. Dorian Nightbane stood beside her, his presence like a force of nature, both overwhelming and suffocating. She could feel his power radiating, could almost taste the darkness that clung to him. His gaze was unwavering, focused on her as if he could see every secret, every doubt that flitted through her mind. His eyes, gleaming with intensity, made her feel as though she were standing on the edge of a precipice, staring down into the unknown.The air was thick with anticipation, and the gathered crowd those loyal to Dorian, those bound by pack laws watched in silent
The night air was thick with tension as Seraphina Vale stood at the gates of the Blackveil Pack's territory, her heart pounding in her chest. The packhouse loomed before her like an ancient fortress, its dark, towering walls speaking of strength, pride, and centuries of tradition. The flickering lights inside cast long shadows, the murmurs of the pack audible even from a distance. Seraphina could feel the weight of their hatred long before she set foot within their walls. She wasn’t blind. The whispers, the glares, the way the air seemed to crackle with hostility it all pointed to one undeniable truth: She was an outsider here. She was a witch, and to the Blackveil Pack, witches were nothing but poison. "Stay close," Dorian Nightbane’s low voice broke through her thoughts, his hand briefly brushing against hers as they made their way toward the gates. His touch was cold, but his presence was a constant force, anchoring her as the wind howled around them. "And remember what I said if
The moon hung high in the sky, a blood-red orb casting its weird glow over the Blackveil Pack’s territory. The night was thick with an unnatural stillness, and the air felt charged, as if something dark and powerful was stirring just beyond the edges of perception. Seraphina Vale stood by her window, staring out at the sprawling wilderness. The trees swayed in the wind, their branches whispering to one another in a language only they understood. But for all the quiet, she could sense the unease in the air, the creeping tension that had settled over the pack ever since her arrival. She had tried to ignore it, but it gnawed at her, like a constant undercurrent that refused to be drowned out. The wolves were restless.It had started small at first a few growls, some snapping between pack members, but now, it was escalating. More and more wolves were turning wild, their instincts taking over as if something were driving them to madness. The shadows at the edges of the woods seemed darke
The full moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glimmer over the Blackveil Pack’s territory, and Seraphina felt the chill of its light on her skin as she stood, poised and alert in the center of her chamber. The night had grown unusually silent, and that silence like a predator lying in wait had already set her senses tingling. It was a feeling she knew well, and one she could never ignore.She had no time for fear, not when something dark and alarming was lurking just out of sight. The attack earlier had been a warning of that, she was certain. She had barely escaped the rogue’s grasp, but whoever was directing this wasn’t finished. If anything, they were only beginning.Seraphina had spent the last few hours trying to push past the anxiety grinding at her chest, focusing on the feelings she’d had earlier, that early instinct that had warned her of the attack. She knew the curse binding her to Dorian had made their fates far more intertwined than either of them liked, but someth
Seraphina stood before Dorian, her heart heavy with a mixture of fury, heartbreak, and confusion. Her fingers trembled, not from fear, but from the sheer weight of the question that had been haunting her for weeks. Why hadn't he defended her? She had bled for him, fought for him, and yet when the world turned its gaze upon her when her life was on the line he had been silent. That silence had eaten at her, gnawed at the edges of her trust in him. "Why?" she demanded again, her voice low but laced with an undeniable edge of pain. "Why didn't you defend me? Why didn't you speak up when they called for my execution?" Dorian's eyes flickered to hers, but he didn't speak. The room between them felt impossibly vast, as if the air itself conspired to keep them apart. His jaw tightened, and his fingers flexed at his sides, as though he was resisting some primal urge to reach out and claim her. But he held back, a wall of regret and uncertainty clouding his features. "Seraphina..." His v
The clearing burned with unnatural heat.Flames danced along the edges of the runes carved into the earth, their glow pulsing in rhythm with Seraphina's breath. Sweat dripped down her spine, her body trembling from the strain of holding the spell steady.It wasn't just a ritual.It was a gamble.She had studied the passage a dozen times in Morgana's journal, tracing each symbol, memorizing every word of warning."Fire is the blood of truth. Once summoned, it cannot lie. But it does not give without taking."Orion stood at the edge of the circle, arms crossed, his expression tight with unease. "You're not ready for this," he said for the third time."I wasn't ready for the curse either," Seraphina murmured. "But it came anyway."Her voice was low, steady. But inside, a storm brewed.She had to know.She had to see beyond the veil of fate and fear. To understand what her ancestors had started and what it would truly take to end it. The curse was no longer a shadow on the horizon. It was
Dawn broke with an eerie stillness.Lucien stood at the edge of the Alpha's balcony, the cold wind biting at his jaw, his arms folded tightly across his chest. Below, the Blackveil grounds were unusually quiet. The warriors moved slower. The guards snapped at one another more than usual. And still no one dared speak the truth.The Alpha was gone.And no one knew if he would return.Lucien closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of command pressing hard against his shoulders. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. The plan had been simple: Seraphina would leave, the curse would fade, and Dorian would survive.But Dorian hadn't faded.He had frayed.And now he was out there, chasing the very witch the council had condemned.Lucien clenched his jaw.He had tried to reason with him. Had tried to stay silent. But silence no longer felt like loyalty it felt like betrayal.The council had already summoned him once this morning. They would summon him again. And this time, he couldn't li
The wind howled through the clearing as Orion drew the runes in ash and salt, his voice low and firm."Again."Seraphina's shoulders trembled with effort. The magic burned under her skin like molten fire, rising in waves, untamed and angry. It had a pulse now, separate from her own stronger, darker. She gritted her teeth, forcing it down, willing the heat to recede into her bones.But it wouldn't obey.The flames at her fingertips danced wildly, shifting color from gold to a sickly green. The air thickened, and the circle beneath her cracked.She staggered, dropping to her knees. Orion's hand was at her back in an instant, steady but unyielding. "You're not listening to it. You're trying to control it.""Because it's mine," she snapped, her voice hoarse. "I should be able to command it."He didn't flinch. "It doesn't work that way. You're not dealing with elemental fire anymore. This is blood magic. It's alive. And right now, it's not sure you're strong enough to wield it." She
The sun rose like a bloodstain across the sky.Seraphina stood at the edge of the cliff, her hair tangled by the wind, eyes fixed on the horizon. She hadn't slept. Not really. Even with the fire Orion had built and the protective wards he'd drawn in the dirt, rest was impossible. Dreams came for her the moment her eyes closed twisted images of wolves howling in fire, blood dripping from the moon, and Morgana Vale's voice whispering in a language older than time. "The curse began in fire. It must end in ash."When dawn broke, she was already moving.Orion didn't try to stop her. He only watched from the shadows, arms crossed, his gaze unreadable as she shouldered the leather satchel and disappeared into the forest. He'd told her where to go a place long forgotten, buried deep in the hollow hills.The original sanctuary of the Vale witches.Her mother had never spoken of it. It had become legend, spoken of only in warning: "Nothing grows where the coven burned."It took hours, maybe
The forest was not kind at night.The cold crept in slowly, wrapping around Seraphina's bones like ice-laced fingers. She didn't know how long she had been walking minutes, hours, maybe longer. Time had lost meaning the moment she left the Blackveil gates behind, cast out with nothing but the weight of her own heartbeat and the echo of Dorian's silence.Leaves cracked beneath her boots, and each step sounded louder than it should have, like the forest was listening.She wasn't crying. She told herself that over and over, lips pressed together so tightly they hurt. But her eyes burned, and the tremble in her fingers betrayed the truth her pride refused to admit. She had given them everything. She had given him everything.And in return, they gave her exile.The pain wasn't in the banishment it was in the look he gave her. Dorian hadn't needed to speak; his eyes had said enough. Not fury. Not regret. Just... resignation. Like she was already gone, like choosing the pack over her had bee
The air was thick with tension as Seraphina stepped into the grand hall. The heavy, ancient doors closed behind her with a reverberating thud, sealing her fate. The pack's council stood before her, silent and cold, their expressions unreadable. The weight of their gazes bore down on her, and for the first time since arriving at the Blackveil Pack, she felt truly alone.Her heart was still pounding from the previous night's events the blood, the betrayal. Garret's face was burned into her mind, the gleam of rage in his eyes before she struck him down. But now, as she stood before the council, none of that mattered. The truth was simple: they were no longer on her side.Dorian stood at the head of the council, his dark eyes fixed on her. He had yet to speak, and his silence felt like a betrayal of its own. Her pulse quickened as she met his gaze, trying to find any hint of the man she had begun to trust. But there was nothing.Seraphina's throat tightened, and she forced herself to spea
The moon hung high, its pale light casting shadows across the Blackveil Pack's land. The night was eerily quiet, the chaos of the earlier battle now replaced by a heavy silence that felt suffocating. Seraphina's body ached, the magic she had unleashed earlier still pulsing beneath her skin, but the sense of dread that had followed the shadow wolves lingered, gnawing at her soul.Dorian had insisted on keeping watch over her as she rested, but Seraphina knew he was troubled. His usually impenetrable demeanor had cracked ever since the fight, his mind clouded with fear and frustration. They had won the battle, but at what cost?Dorian was still haunted by the idea of the curse, but she could see the subtle changes in him. The hesitation, the way he began to look at her with more than just duty in his eyes. It was as if he was starting to believe that they could actually break the curse. But then, there was something else, something off about the way the pack moved around them like the s
The battlefield was quiet now. Too quiet.The screams had faded. The scent of blood still clung to the air, mixing with the acrid stench of burnt flesh where the shadow wolves had fallen. Warriors moved through the carnage, dragging away the bodies of their fallen brothers, murmuring prayers to the Moon Goddess for safe passage into the afterlife.But Seraphina barely noticed any of it.Her mind was still trapped in the moment before the battle ended the moment his name had been spoken.Lazarus.It was a name she had grown up fearing, whispered in secret among those who still practiced the old magic. A warlock with power so corrupt, so unnatural, that even death had failed to claim him.And now, he was back.Her fingers trembled as she clenched them into fists, willing herself to stay grounded, to push aside the fear curling in her gut. But then she looked at Dorian.And something inside her cracked.He stood motionless among the ruins of battle, his broad shoulders tense, his hands s