LOGINThe road to the southern ruins did not look dangerous.That, more than anything, unsettled me.The path wound through low hills and sparse trees, the ground dry and obedient beneath our boots. No twisted roots. No sudden drops. Even the air felt ordinary, cool and clean, carrying the scent of pine and distant water.Too clean.Lucas rode beside me in silence, one hand always close enough that I could feel the heat of him through my cloak. Jake led the small group ahead, alert, his gaze constantly scanning the edges of the trail. Clara and Ben followed behind us, their presence steady and grounding.If anyone expected fear, they would be disappointed. What pressed against my chest was not fear.It was recognition.I had never been here before, not in this life, not in memory. And yet, with every step, something in me leaned forward, like a word waiting to be finished.We reached the ruins just as the sun dipped low.Stone pillars jutted from the earth at odd angles, their surfaces worn
The word awake did not leave the room.It sat between us, heavy and unmovable, as if speaking it again would give it more power. The messenger had been taken away, the healers murmuring over him, but his terror lingered like a stain.Lucas dismissed the council with a single gesture. No arguments. No delays. When the doors finally shut, it was just the two of us, Jake standing guard outside, and the quiet that pressed in from all sides.I felt it then, more clearly than before.Not fear. Not panic.Attention.Something was watching now, not through dreams, not through the bond, but through the land itself. The air felt different, thicker, as though the world had leaned closer to listen.“They didn’t just wake it,” I said softly. “They fed it.”Lucas’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “Drake doesn’t have that kind of power.”“No,” I agreed. “But desperation does.”I moved toward the window, looking out at the eastern horizon. The sky was clear, almost mockingly peaceful. If not fo
The fortress did not panic.That was the first sign something was wrong.In the hours after the messenger left, there were no horns, no frantic commands echoing through the corridors. Lucas ordered the gates reinforced, patrols doubled, wards checked and re-etched where time had softened their bite. Everything was done with a calm precision that would have reassured anyone watching.Anyone except me.Because calm, I was learning, was what came before decisions that could not be undone.I spent the afternoon in the solar overlooking the inner yard, watching wolves train and rebuild sections of the wall that had never truly needed rebuilding. It was work done for the sake of movement, of keeping hands busy while minds ran ahead to darker places.The child remained quiet.That unsettled me more than the kicks had. His stillness felt deliberate, as though he were listening to something too far away for the rest of us to hear.Lucas came and went, never far for long. Each time he passed, h
The passage breathed.Not in the way lungs do, but in a slow, patient rhythm that pressed against my ears the farther we went. The torchlight bent strangely along the walls, shadows stretching where there should have been none, shrinking where they should have gathered. The symbols carved into the bone-like surface were older than language, older than the packs, older even than the goddess stories the elders loved to recite.This place had not been built for wolves.It had been built to wait.I moved carefully, one hand braced against the wall, the other resting over my belly. The child was quiet now, watchful. That frightened me more than the kicking had. When he went still like this, it meant he was listening.Behind me, Jake and Clara followed in silence. Ben brought up the rear, his presence steady, protective. None of them spoke. The mountain did not feel like a place that tolerated noise.The door at the end of the passage loomed closer with every step. Bone, yes, but polished s
The floor did not stop cracking.Stone split in long, jagged lines beneath us, crawling outward like veins breaking through skin. The ritual chamber groaned, pillars shuddering as dust rained down in choking waves. Somewhere above, a bell began to ring, not in alarm, but in confusion, as though the castle itself did not yet understand what had been unleashed.I tightened my arms around Lucas as another tremor rolled through the room.He was breathing. That was the first thing I checked. Ragged, uneven, but real. The golden glow had faded from his eyes, replaced by their familiar gray, dulled with exhaustion and shock. The curse marks were gone, but the absence felt almost louder than their presence had ever been.Jake knelt beside us, gripping Lucas’s shoulder. “He’s alive,” he said, as if saying it out loud made it more certain. His jaw was clenched tight. “But whatever you did… it didn’t end cleanly.”“I know,” I said.I could feel it.The pressure hadn’t vanished. It had shifted. D
Drake had always known how to enter a room.Not loudly. Not with force.He entered the way rot entered wood. Quiet. Patient. Certain that everything would eventually give.The runes along the chamber walls pulsed brighter as he stepped closer, responding to him the way they never responded to Lucas or Jake. That alone told me more than any confession could have.“You planned this,” I said, keeping my voice steady even as my pulse thundered. “The elders. The healer. The priest. You let them believe they were in control.”Drake’s mouth curved slightly. “Belief is a very useful leash.”The priest remained bowed, unmoving. The elders did not look at me anymore. Their eyes were fixed on Drake, waiting.I forced myself to breathe slowly. Panic would weaken the bond. Panic would feed the curse.“You’re late,” I said instead. “I expected you days ago.”“I wanted you desperate first,” he replied. “Fear opens doors that pride keeps shut.”The baby kicked again, sharp and urgent. Not pain. Warni







