Kostas’s point of view The moment the Alpha King accepts our hospitality, something shifts in my chest. It’s not every day the most powerful wolf alive agrees to set foot in another pack’s home. We don’t keep guests often, not even allies—our land is sacred, and trust is earned here, not given. Yet when he nods, calm and certain, I feel my wolf stir with pride. I swing a leg over my motorcycle, Alecos revving beside me, and fall in line behind my father. The roar of the engines carries us down the coastline road, wind cutting sharp against my skin, the salt of the sea chasing us like an old friend. Behind us, the jeeps roll steady, heavy with his warriors, or his most trusted friends i would say, as they act. My father rides ahead, the Alpha King beside him in his car, and for a moment it looks like two worlds riding side by side—ancient Greece and a foreign crown. Ten minutes later, we crest the last hill, and the pack house rises in front of us—stone and whitewashed walls glea
Theo’s point of view I wake to the faint, insistent tug of Aries in my mind. She’s close. We need to go. I groan, rubbing my eyes as the aroma of breakfast drifts up from the kitchen. I know I should eat, but I can’t focus. Aries won’t shut up, buzzing through my thoughts like a swarm of bees, driving me crazy. I drag myself out of bed, and walk into the shower. The water hits me like a rock and it wakes me up., like Aries’s voice wasn’t enough. As I join the guys in the kitchen, I watch them slowly as they are scattered, each one of them making himself useful. “Eat something,” Marcus grumbles, sliding a plate in front of me. “You won’t survive the day on empty stomachs.” “Easy for you to say,” I mutter, stabbing at the eggs, my mind half on the plate, half on the pull Aries is sending. We’re leaving, Aries insists. By the time breakfast is done, I’ve given up trying to ignore him. Four jeeps are packed with ten warriors, each of us ready to conquer the world—or at
Isabella’s point of view The chamber is quiet now. The faint hum of residual magic lingers in the air, soft and comforting, and for the first time in days, maybe weeks, a spark of hope lights in my chest. I sit beside Simone’s bed, fingers brushing her hair back from her face, heart hammering with a mixture of relief and awe. She stirs, eyelids fluttering, and emerald green eyes blink open, piercing and intense even in their moment of confusion. My breath catches. The resemblance is uncanny—red hair catching the morning light, a delicate curve of her jaw, the same determined set to her mouth. My daughter… my daughter lives. “Simone,” I whisper, voice thick with emotion, and she blinks at me, confusion mingling with recognition. A small, fragile smile tugs at the corner of her lips. I feel tears threatening, but I swallow them, letting joy swell freely in my chest for the first time in what feels like forever. Nathaniel stands quietly by the window, his posture tense yet watc
Isabella’s point of view I can’t stand it any longer. Simone’s screams tear through the camp like jagged knives, rattling my bones and shredding the calm I’ve been trying to hold. My heart races. I know the chamber isn’t meant to be easy, but this… this is different. Something dark is clawing at her soul, and every second she’s in that field, fighting alone, it’s like the shadows themselves are feeding off her fear. I glance at Nathaniel and Malcolm in the waiting room. “She’s losing herself,” I shout, voice trembling. Nathaniel’s fists tighten around a rune. “We’ve restrained her as much as the runes allow. Isabella, you’re the only one who can—” “I know,” I cut him off, grabbing the key. “I’m going in.” “You cannot enter there Isabella, this is her trial. This could kill you”, he shouts, but he is a little late. The moment I step through the door , the green field hits me. The grass is soft under my feet, but the air is heavy, thick with magic. And there she is—Simone—on
Simone’s point of view The chamber dissolves, leaving me stumbling across a green field. The grass bends under my feet, the air thick with the scent of earth and magic. In the distance, a small farm glows warmly, almost inviting—but I feel no comfort. “Simone,” Rufus calls, his voice deep, resonant, carrying both authority and a dangerous pull. Shadows curl around his feet, writhing like living smoke. “You’ve grown strong. The darkness inside you… it belongs with me. Join me, and we can embrace what we are meant to be.” My chest tightens. Every fiber of me screams in recognition—this is my father, the man who raised me, the one who shaped my earliest memories. And yet… the pull is suffocating. The darkness inside me pulses, echoing his voice, tempting me, promising power, vengeance, and control. “I… I can’t,” I whisper, staggering backward. My heart races. “I… I don’t know if I want this… if I’m meant for this.” A soft voice drifts over the field, lighter, warmer. “Simone,
Simone’s point of view I jerk awake, the air thick and metallic, heavy with the taste of blood and shadow. The chamber surrounds me in a dim green glow, runes along the walls pulsing like a heartbeat. My restraints bite into my wrists and ankles, but I barely feel them—the darkness inside me thrums, alive, hungry, restless. “Let me out!” I roar, twisting violently. Black tendrils lash at the walls and floor, writhing like snakes. “I don’t belong here! I am not yours!” “You are here to survive,” a calm, omnipresent voice whispers. The words echo, layered with the magic of the chamber, binding and anchoring me. “The darkness cannot take you if you face it, Simone. Only you can control it.” I snarl, lunging, and the shadows flare, forming twisted, semi-human shapes that mimic me—my face contorted, screaming, eyes glowing red. They move with me, mocking, taunting, showing me every version of myself I’ve tried to bury. “You abandoned me!” a faceless shadow hisses. “He killed hi