جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 107

The forest remembered fear.Long before wolves learned to run in packs. Long before witches carved symbols into bark. Long before man dared claim land that did not belong to him.The forest had known that sound before.AURA stood at the edge of the ruined ritual site, his colossal silhouette swallowed and reshaped by drifting black mist. His chest expanded slowly — deliberately — with a breath that seemed to draw the night itself into his lungs.Then he howled.It was not the cry of an animal.It was the roar of a god torn from a grave.The sound tore through Ashwood, splitting the sky, reverberating across hills and valleys, through sleeping villages, through oceans of trees and bone and memory. Windows miles away rattled. Birds fell silent. Wolves folded to their bellies in submission. The earth vibrated as if acknowledging a long-banished king.Every supernatural being in every forgotten corner of existence knew what it meant.He was out.AURA finished the howl and slowly lifted hi

Rhea’s breath tore out of her as if someone had yanked her soul through her ribs.The vision didn’t fade gently.It snapped.White dissolved to black so quickly she staggered, gripping the edge of the bed as her chest rose and fell like she’d run for miles. Her eyes, still fogged in that eerie glazed-white, slowly bled back to their natural color—but the echo of what she’d seen remained carved into her skull, throbbing like an old wound cut open again.Kael leaned forward from the chair beside her, one hand braced against the mattress.“Rhea—look at me. What did you see?”She swallowed. Her throat felt scorched.“He… he’s moving.”Marek, pacing near the door with wolf-bane needles still buried in his forearm, stopped cold.“AURA?”Rhea shut her eyes, and the world tilted again.She still saw it.The mountain collapsing.The ancient stone temple splintering.Dust swallowing the sky.And the god-wolf—walking out.Not in his monstrous form…But in a man’s shape.Tall. Barefoot. Black coa

The room was silent. Not the quiet of peace—but the kind that pressed against the chest, heavy and watchful, as if the walls themselves were listening. Violet sat stiffly in the carved oak chair near the hearth, the Thorne Grimoire resting open across her lap. Its leather cover was cracked with age, the pages yellowed and warped, ink pressed so deep into the parchment it looked etched rather than written. Some of the symbols pulsed faintly, reacting to her touch, as though the book resented being awakened again. Rhea stood near the tall windows overlooking the Ashwood treeline. Her arms were folded tightly around herself, her reflection pale against the glass. She did not look at Violet—or at the book. Her eyes were fixed on the forest beyond the estate, as if expecting it to move, to breathe, to answer something only she could hear. Marek leaned against a stone pillar near the doorway, arms crossed, jaw clenched. He hadn’t shifted since Violet sat down. His Alpha instincts were c

The study at Draven Estate felt smaller than it ever had.Not because of walls or stone or space—but because the truth had weight. It pressed down on the room, on every breath drawn within it, thick and suffocating.The Thorne Grimoire lay closed now in Violet’s hands, its cracked leather cover darkened by centuries of secrets. The candlelight flickered against the ancient sigils etched faintly into its spine, as if the book itself still breathed.Rhea stood near the far side of the room, her back to everyone. Her fingers gripped the edge of the window frame, knuckles pale, shoulders tight. Outside, Ashwood stretched endlessly—trees unmoving, shadows quiet. Too quiet.Marek leaned against the heavy oak table, arms crossed, jaw set. His eyes moved between Violet and Rhea, sharp, calculating, as though measuring damage after a battlefield strike.Kael stood at the center.Still.Unmoving.But his aura was anything but calm.It simmered beneath his skin, restrained only by will. His eyes