CHAPTER TWELVE: Ashes And Answers

Mason’s POV

The fire hadn’t gone out. It hissed and spat, throwing light over her body. Zylia lay where the blast had dropped her. She was too still, too pale, and the dirt beneath her still scorched black.

Raven stood a few paces away, knife in hand, face carved into something unreadable.

“She’s not breathing,” she said. No fear in her voice. Just fact.

“She is.” I knelt beside Zylia, fingers finding the pulse beneath her jaw. Faint, fluttering. “Barely.”

Raven’s boots crunched the ash. “Whatever that was, it wasn’t wolf magic.”

“I noticed,” I muttered. The air still smelled wrong, metallic and burnt

Raven circled her, “You saw what she did. That light, no wolf can do that. Not even Alphas. We should leave her.”

The words hit like a slap. “You mean kill her.”

“I mean survive.” Her gaze lifted, hard and cold. “That’s what you taught me, remember?”

I swallowed the old memory she’d thrown like a blade. “She’s not a threat.”

Raven tilted her head. “You’re sure?”

No. Not even close. But the thought of walking away made something in my chest twist. “She saved us.”

“She also nearly turned the forest inside out,” Raven shot back. “You didn’t see your own face when that light hit…”

“Enough.” I glared at her. “We wait. She wakes, we get answers. Until then, no one touches her.”

Raven’s lip curled, but she sheathed her knife. “Fine. But when she burns again, don’t expect me to pull you out.”

She stalked off into the trees, leaving the silence raw.

I stayed. I didn’t move, didn’t sleep. Just watched her breathe. Every few minutes, her fingers twitched, her skin flickered with a faint, silver shimmer that faded before I could be sure it was real.

By dawn, the air felt calmer. She stirred at last, one sharp inhale, and her eyes snapped open.

“Mason?” Her voice was hoarse, barely there.

I exhaled. “Yeah. You’re alright.”

Her gaze darted around the clearing. “What… happened?”

“Ask yourself.”

She pushed herself upright. Then she froze. The soil beneath her hand was burned into the shape of her palm,dark and perfect, like a brand.

Her breath caught. “I did that?”

I didn’t answer.

Her eyes shimmered faintly, silver veins tracing up her arms before fading. She pulled her sleeves down fast, as if hiding from her own skin. “I didn’t mean to,”

“I know.”

Her lip trembled. “It felt like,like something inside me woke up. And then it was everywhere. The light. The noise. I thought I was dying.”

“Maybe you were.”

She looked at me then, really looked, and the fear there was something I couldn’t name. Not of me. Of herself.

Raven returned as the sun bled over the horizon. “We can’t stay here,” she said. “If that power’s tied to her, it’ll call things. Things worse than rogues.”

Zylia flinched. “Then where do we go?”

“The Hollow,” Raven said. “There are ruins there. Old ones. Maybe they’ll tell us what kind of monster you are.”

“Enough,” I snapped.

Raven met my glare but didn’t take it back.

Zylia’s shoulders hunched. “If there’s a chance… if it explains what’s happening to me, I’ll go.”

She sounded braver than she looked.

We packed what little we had and started walking east. The forest was gray and quiet. Zylia kept her hood up, eyes on the ground, and I kept glancing over my shoulder for reasons I didn’t want to admit.

Raven moved faster than us. “If we make it before nightfall, we can rest in the ridge. After that, it’s two days to the Hollow.”

Zylia didn’t answer. Her pace slowed as we neared the edge of the trees.

“You okay?” I asked.

She shook her head. “It’s happening again.”

“What is?”

She stopped, gripping her wrist. Light flickered beneath her skin, faint threads pulsing along her veins. I caught her before she collapsed.

“Breathe,” I said. “Focus on me.”

Her fingers curled into my shirt. The light dimmed, slowly, reluctantly.

Raven turned back, eyes narrowed. “You’re glowing again.”

“Yeah, thanks,” I muttered. “Helpful observation.”

But the humor didn’t last. The forest felt wrong,too still, like the world was listening.

We reached the ridge by sunset. The horizon burned copper, the wind carrying the scent of smoke.

“Camp,” Raven ordered.

Zylia dropped by a fallen log, shaking. I started a fire, keeping my back to the trees.

“You should sleep,” I said quietly.

“I’m scared to,” she whispered.

I looked up. “Why?”

“Because what if I don’t wake up… or worse, what if I do and something else wakes with me?”

There was no answer to that.

Raven took the first watch. I stayed close, listening to the crackle of fire, to the steady rhythm of Zylia’s breathing.

When the flames dipped low, something flickered past the treeline,just a shadow, thin and human-shaped.

“Raven,” I murmured.

She turned, knife already half-drawn. “I saw it.”

But by the time we looked again, the shadow was gone.

Only the trees remained, whispering secrets to the dark.

I sat back, hand on my blade, eyes fixed on the place where it had stood.

For a second, I could’ve sworn I heard it speak.

A voice, soft and distant.

“Keep her alive, Mason. She’s not done yet.”

The fire snapped, breaking the spell.

But the chill it left behind didn’t fade.