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61: HUMANS, WEREWOLVES, AND OTHER THINGS. II
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2025-03-26 16:23:44"We have company, Alpha Kane," Marcus' voice crackled through the Walkie-talkie on the table. The air in the room shifted instantly, tension creeping in like an uninvited guest.
Both Steve and Emma turned to each other, their eyes mirroring the same concern.
"The Sentinel?" Steve asked, already reaching for the device, his voice a mix of urgency and suspicion.
"Negative, it's Lady Long," Marcus replied.
Emma's frown deepened.
Lady Long? What was she doing here? What could she possibly want?
"How do you know it's her?" Steve asked, his fingers gripping the Walkie-talkie tighter.
"I would recognize that limousine anywhere, Alpha Kane," Marcus stated with certainty.
Steve inhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. "I'm coming outside."
"Over and out," Marcus said before the line went dead.
Emma folded her arms across her chest, watching as Steve pulled on a shirt. A part of her wished he hadn’t. Even after all these
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The Healer's Bond 252. A FLAME IN THE FROST
Emma stood in the silent chamber where the fourth trial had ended, her breath coming in slow, controlled bursts. The frost-bitten stone beneath her boots sizzled faintly from the heat she hadn't realized she was still giving off. Her hands trembled—whether from exhaustion or lingering adrenaline, she couldn’t tell.She’d survived.Barely.Her Ember Heart pulsed with residual energy, quiet now, like a volcano gone still after the eruption. But it wasn’t peace. It was waiting.She touched her chest lightly, just above her sternum. The pendant Marcus had given her—now cracked, half-melted—hung limply, unable to contain what had awakened inside her.“What was that?” Sarah whispered beside her, the awe in her voice nearly swallowed by the thick frost clinging to the chamber walls. “Emma… I’ve never seen you like that. That wasn’t medicine. That wasn’t logic. That was—”“Fire,” Emma said quietly, swallowing. “Not the kind you see in a camp or a lab. It felt… ancient.”Marcus approached fro
The Healer's Bond 251. THE HEART OF FROSTFIRE
“Are you ready?” his voice rumbled, ancient and broken. “No,” Emma said truthfully, “but I will fight anyway.” The battle began without warning. He lunged with inhuman speed, swinging a jagged glaive wreathed in frost. Emma ducked, rolled, and countered with a burst of flame from her hands. The heat cracked the floor beneath her feet, but he raised his arm, absorbing the blast with his armor. Ice crawled over her shoulder as he backhanded her across the chamber. Emma skidded into a pillar. Pain exploded through her ribs. She gasped, fire sputtering in her lungs. Stay centered, she told herself. You are the balance. The enemy advanced again. His strikes were a rhythm of discipline and destruction—frost then fire, fire then frost. She recognized the tactic. The trial wasn't just to fight. It was to match. To mirror.
The Healer's Bond 250. ICE AND MEMORY
Snow crunched under Emma Adam’s boots, though no real wind stirred the air. The silence inside the Frost Citadel was unnatural—not peaceful, not dead, just expectant. Like the walls were listening.The great corridor ahead of them stretched impossibly far, its arches taller than any cathedral she’d seen in the old world. Icicles hung like daggered chandeliers, suspended mid-melt but never dripping. Magic stilled time here. Or tried to.Long walked ahead, spear in hand, every movement precise. Steve walked beside Emma now, close enough that she could hear the subtle rasp in his breath. He still wasn’t fully healed, despite the Ember Heart’s efforts. The cold had embedded itself too deep.Sarah trailed behind, muttering calculations under her breath and watching the crystalline glyphs etched into the frosted walls. They pulsed faintly with blue light—as if reacting to their presence.“It’s reacting to you,” Sarah finally said, pointing to the glowing runes now mirroring the steady throb
The Healer's Bond 249. FORBIDDEN ART. II.
Adam was trying his possible best to keep calm but he could not. He was wracked with a nervous energy and at the same time, he felt an intense excitement course through him.He had only been a human being for a few hours and he was not getting close to understanding how the human body functioned.His stomach had been growling non stop due to the hunger he was feeling and the confusing thing was how highly aroused he was.His nose was filled with this hot musky scent that drove him wild. He looked over at Priscillia and saw that she was neither flustered nor infected.What was happening to him?"What you are currently going through is know as lust and as long as you stay here, you will be experiencing it," Priscillia said.Adam swallowed nervously. "What is causing it?" He asked as he shifted nervously on the mahogany chair he sat on."I am," The alluring creature who was looking at him like he was food spoke up.Adam said nothing for a while as he studied the creature. "I feel like yo
The Healer's Bond 248. The Butcher of Mind
Irsi’s body changed with every village lost. She grew taller, spindlier. Her tongues were now blades of living parchment, inscribed with names scratched out in black ink. They fluttered in the wind like cursed scripture. Where once she whispered, now she howled. Her mouth no longer split once or twice—it cracked across her entire face, revealing rows of memory-threaded teeth. When she smiled, history screamed. She wasn’t harvesting identity anymore. She was unraveling reality. --- The Plan Emma had survived because of the flame that bound her to others. To Steve. To Sarah. To the old dragon, Long. So Irsi would attack the world’s memory of Emma, not Emma herself. She would cut Emma out of history.
The Healer's Bond 247. THE FLAME THAT DEVOURS
The chamber changed.The moment Emma’s foot stepped beyond the final threshold, the floor beneath her feet melted into ash. Not the warm, glowing kind that comes after fire—but the brittle gray dust that coats the bones of fallen empires.The air was different here. Heavier. Each breath pulled something from her. It wasn’t fear.It was memory.Regret.Loss.And ahead, rising like an obsidian tower twisted into a blade, stood the last pedestal.Upon it, the Black Flame did not flicker.It consumed.A pure jet of darkness, impossibly deep, coiled upward like a spiral of liquid void—crackling with sparks that did not illuminate, but stole light instead.The Flame of Sacrifice.---Alone AgainSteve called out behind her.“Emma—wait!”But she couldn’t turn.Her feet were locked to the path.This trial, she knew, was final. Not in order—final in cost.Even the Flame Archives went quiet.The Black Flame pulsed once as she drew near.And then it whispered.Not with voices.With questions.--
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