The mountains surrounding Sterling Creek loomed tall and jagged, their silhouettes carved into the grey sky like the bones of some forgotten beast. Emma stood at the edge of the balcony, arms folded against the creeping chill of morning. Below her, the forest remained eerily still—an unnatural quiet that had settled over the land ever since Alexander’s ghost vanished in a hiss of ash and dying light.She didn’t want to admit it, but the memory of his final words lingered in her mind like smoke: The Bone Mirror. The Bleeding Moon. The doorway.And now, Steve wanted to chase it.Behind her, she heard the faint creak of the door and then the sound of boots crossing the wooden floor. Steve joined her at the railing, his eyes already scanning the far eastern ridge—the place Alexander had said the mirror was buried.“We need to find it,” he said. “Whatever this Bone Mirror is... we need to see it for ourselves.”Emma didn’t move. Her voice came out low, measured. “And what if finding it wak
"It all began with the Pale circle," Alexander beganSteve hadn’t moved from the couch since the last revelation. His elbows dug into his knees, his hands clutched tightly around his head. The weight of everything bore down on him. The room, once filled with heavy silence, now held a deeper tension. A warning.Emma stood near the edge of the pentagram, staring at the ghost within it. Alexander still wore that maddening smirk, even though he was nothing more than a cursed memory bound by blood and magic.Then, as if summoned by something unspoken, Emma’s voice broke the stillness.“The Pale Circle.”The name escaped her lips like a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.Steve looked up sharply, his green eyes reddened with confusion. “What did you say?”Emma turned to him, her voice steadier now. “The Pale Circle. A creature told me about it back in the forest. I have heard about it before."Alexander’s smirk deepened. His green eyes held a sharp glint, cold and sharp like a dag
Steve's heart almost skipped a beat as he saw his father standing in the middle of the pentagram with a cold smirk and eyes that held so many secrets. Steve was struggling to breathe as he looked up at his standing dead father. Even though Alexander was dead, he was still menacing to behold. Steve was hit with the haunting memories of his fight with this ghost that stood here before him. "You are one tough witch, I will give you that," Alexander replied in a cracked low voice that held a very dark humor. "I am not a witch," Emma replied curtly. "This one is in denial," Alexander said to his son as he jerked a thumb at Emma. Steve stood up and closely watched his father, still unsure if he could believe that all this was real. "Son, you look like you just saw a ghost," Alexander smirked as he spoke. "Really?" Steve finall
Emma and Steve silently left the forest more troubled with themselves as ever before.Emma had gone to heal the forest but had seen something that had blown her mind. She was beginning to think that Steve had secretly done her a favor by rejecting her five years ago.She should have cherished those five years but instead she had used them to get angry and rejected. She could not believe that this was the trouble she was going through just to be with him."I can see the pain in your face," Steve said with concern. "What is going on in that mind?""I thought my life was difficult when you rejected me but now that I am back in your life, it's been one adventure after the other," Emma said.Steve's expression turned pained. "I understand if you are tired of me, Emma, you really do not owe me anything."Emma turned to Steve and saw how her words had affected him. They were out of the forest now and closer to the pack.She held his large powerful arm in her hand and pulled him towards her.
I stood in the silence that followed the chaos, my body trembling with exhaustion and fear. The air still reeked of death, but the moaning had stopped. The voices—the pleading groans of the undead—were gone now, released into whatever realm waited for them. My heart thundered in my chest, but it wasn’t from running.It was from knowing.Knowing that I had spoken the language of the dead. Knowing that I'd commanded them—and they had listened.I looked down at my hands. They were steady, but I didn’t feel steady at all.“You okay?” Steve’s voice broke through the fog in my head. He walked toward me, his face pale under streaks of dirt and sweat. “Emma, talk to me.”I nodded too quickly. “Yeah... I think so.”“You just told a hundred dead werewolves to go back to the afterlife and they actually listened. So forgive me if I need a second to breathe.”I gave him a half-hearted smile, even though my chest still felt too tight. “You and me both.”He crouched beside one of the spots where the
The moment the vines began to crawl from the earth, I felt it—an ancient pulse beneath my feet, like the forest itself had stirred from a deep, mournful sleep. It was awake. It had chosen a side. And for once, it was on ours. I staggered slightly, drained from the words I'd spoken, but I held my ground. My voice had trembled with power I didn’t fully understand, yet the dead had listened. Hundreds of undead werewolves, twisted and rotting with hatred in their eyes, now stood frozen, silent, as though waiting for something. Waiting for me. Steve looked at me like I was a stranger, like I’d sprouted horns or wings or both. He stood a few feet away, panting, bloodied from his wild swings. But alive. "What... the hell... was that?" he asked, breath ragged. "I don’t know," I whispered. But that was a lie. Deep down, I did. Grimkeeper had called me daughter—and I hadn’t even argued. Maybe becau