All Chapters of The Lone Wolf: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

CHAPTER 121The clearing was bathed in a surreal light.The Oracle knelt beside Ophelia, her fingers moving in the intricate patterns above the runes as she murmured incantations in a tongue older than the earth itself. Threads of golden magic spun from her hands, weaving into Ophelia’s broken body, anchoring her soul back to her body using the previous tether link between Ophelia and Aaron.The first one that she made to save her when she almost died after she was marked.The mate mark on her neck glowed brightly while the cursed wound hissed. The dark rot was retreating slowly as divine energy forced it back at a speed visible to the eyes.Aaron knelt by Ophelia’s other side, his hand trembling as he brushed a blood-matted strand of hair from her face. His touch lingered on her cheek, reverent, as if he was afraid that she’d vanish again if he let go. He had so much he wanted to say to her, and he couldn’t wait to hold her in his arms.He could feel her pain, and he was trying his b

CHAPTER 123The group was running out of time, and they were aware of it.The fate of the world rested on Ophelia’s ability to master the ancient spell, harness her power, and merge with every other version of herself. And this, she had to accomplish in less than three days. Of course, it was easier said than done.A merger like that took years to master, yet somehow she had to pull it off in hours, but she couldn’t protest. She had no choice. It was not like she was handed a flavor of ice cream she didn’t want and could quietly return it, or asked to go to a park she didn’t want to. There were lives at stake. Any decision, no matter how small, could be detrimental.Scarlet and the Oracle transformed the clearing.Intricate sigils now encircled the area, pulsing faintly under the Oracle’s command. It was the best they could do with so little time. Now, everything was up to Ophelia. The air shimmered with suppressed power, every breath tasted metallic, and the atmosphere was thick as i

CHAPTER 125Lucien’s plan was unfolding seamlessly.By the end of the day, the Blood Moon will rise, and he will bring back the First Vrykolakas, the vrykolakas with the power of a demigod. He was finally going to bring him back to life. Imagine the power he could have with a demigod by his side. He would ascend and be untouchable. He would have unparalleled power, and the world would bow to him. He was thrilled.It took him decades, but he found all the pieces. He searched far and wide for the items needed for the resurrection ritual.These items had been unsealed from the cave of the gods by the emperor during his expedition. Unfortunately, the witches came together and hid them after he was defeated.Now, he had in his possession the Crown, the Scepter, the Ring, and the Cursed Blade that belonged to the demigod.He also had the relic from the cave of the gods. They needed something imbued with godly essence, and only the relic contained it, as it was the only remaining thing from

CHAPTER 127They had succeeded. They performed a flawless heist on the ritual. Ophelia had absorbed the energy, the tether, and the power. They got one over Lucien and ruined his century of hard work.They should cheer in victory. The night should have ended in triumph. Instead, the sky bled fire. The Blood Moon shone brighter, and they could not shake off the feeling that things had gone very wrong.Aaron cradled Ophelia’s limp body as the group emerged from the collapsing tower. Her skin was cold as ice, her veins pulsing with light that flickered between silver and black. The symbols burned into her skin by the ritual had begun to shift, no longer divine glyphs. They were ancient, fractured marks, like broken seals.“Aaron,” the Oracle whispered with a trembling voice. “She’s not stabilizing.”“She completed the ritual,” he snapped, refusing to accept what he was already fearing. “She succeeded, she performed the ritual like you instructed. The curse should be...““No,” the Oracle

CHAPTER 129Darkness wasn’t the absence of light. It was the thing that existed behind the lights or where the lights couldn’t reach. With the weight of it, pressing down until the world blurred into nothing but cold.Ophelia floated in it, too tired to swim, too weak to care. Her body, somewhere far away, was a broken thing. Every beat of her heart felt borrowed.The silence cracked.And then a whisper. It brushed her ear like wind across desert sand.“Little one.”She turned, or thought she did, and the void rippled to color. It may not have been the green and gold of her forest; it was ochre and deep amber, but it was a great reprieve from the unending darkness. The air smelled of dust and sun, and in the distance, mountains crowned with mist rose against a sky that burned at the edges.She heard the sound of footsteps approaching.A woman emerged from the shimmering horizon, barefoot in the sand, her black hair streaked with silver. Her eyes, gold, fierce, and familiar, studied Op