Novel & Cerita The Runesmith

But in the end, his body gave in, baring his throat in submission. “Severnaya Zvezda is in shambles,” he muttered. “Our warriors are a joke. There’s no point in continuing this sad excuse of a pack.” His voice turned bitter. “Besides, you don’t trust me. You won’t let me use the stone. Won’t even tell me where it is. You’re no longer the person who was my friend. You’re just a miserable fuck, petting a hedgehog against the grain because of some warped sense of duty.”

I was happy and I had all the things I could possibly dream of having, but it sure as hell wasn't an easy ride to get here. "Take a moment to imagine our pack captured a rogue and that rogue just happened to be my mate. Continue imagining that this rogue used sarcasm as a natural defence and had an answer for basically everything. Now imagine our father was the reason this rogue was a rogue in the first place and she had nothing left so she pretty much demanded that I earn her trust, to prove I was nothing like our father. Imagine that I did this for almost two weeks, only seeing this rogue three times in that period, during which time I killed two guards and almost killed our Alpha. Imagine

I tasted iron on my tongue and smiled. Rael stumbled as another tremor shook the citadel. “He’s bleeding into the runes! They’re overloading!” “Exactly what we need.” I rose, spreading my hands. The runes responded, drinking the power until the light turned blinding. “The more he gives, the deeper he sinks.” Outside, through the narrow windows, the valley twisted with fire and shadow. I could feel every heartbeat in that field, every scream swallowed by the storm. It was music, and I was its composer.

He leaned in, his flashlight beam catching the rune carved into my chest—bold, black, pulsing faintly, like it was breathing under my skin. “What the…” He blinked hard, his forehead creased as he pieced the puzzle. “Aklan, when did you— Wait. No. You didn’t get tattoos. And I literally know where you are ninety percent of the time. There’s no universe where you had a free afternoon to get inked without me knowing.” “It’s not a tattoo,” I said, pulling the shirt off my left shoulder so he could see the whole thing. “It’s a rune. And it’s alive.”

The Moonstone was inches from her face now, its cold light seeping into her skin. It didn’t hurt. It felt like coming home. Memories flooded her—her mother’s laughter, her father teaching her to heal a wounded wolf pup, the night the fire took everything. And beneath it all, a voice. Soft. Ancient. _Healer. You are the last. Do not let it corrupt you._ Varn began the ritual. He cut his palm with a silver dagger and let his blood drip onto the Moonstone. The stone drank it, turning a sickly red. The runes on the walls flared to life, casting jagged shadows across the chamber.

“Mara, Sam, Lena—watch the runes.” “Got it,” Lena says, light tracing a safe path. “Like the uprising?” “Sneakier,” Raymond says, light guiding us. “We’re close.” The archive’s halls are a maze, walls carved with runes that pulse with dark magic, air thick with dust and old power. A guardian shade lunges, claws slashing, and my shadows tear it apart, ash scattering like snow. “Keep it tight!” I yell, shielding Raymond as another shade strikes, grazing my side, blood dripping hot.

We brought in books, stones, bones of small animals, and salt—so much salt that Mama probably thought the storerooms had a leak. We each took a role. Just like a small secret pack of ours. Aya was the howl—her voice could carry power through the runes, stretching their reach farther than any of us alone could manage. When she spoke them aloud, they obeyed like they had no choice. Brinn was the claw—precise, sharp, steady. His carvings could bite into wood, stone, even bone, holding protections long after fire tried to eat them. He didn’t talk much, but his marks spoke volumes.

Gripped his jaw between his teeth. “It was a vision,” he breathed after a long minute. “Not a dream. A forest on fire. A girl with dragon eyes. Screaming like the world was ending. And then a glaive. Then I woke up with that burning brand on my hand.” I took a second look at the rune etched into his skin. Definitely not Everley magic. Not Runebound, and definitely not Hawthorne. “It’s not one of ours,” I murmured. “And it’s not Solari.”

“I will station myself here in case things go wrong.” Rune appreciated Symon’s help in silence, then walked away and towards the open courtyard, the only spot in the house that could handle the opening of the gateway to the Brunia Pack. After Symon used his powers to clear the lounge furniture in that open space, Rune set up the gemstone. With closed eyes, he summoned the gateway, which brightened the space and made his heartache. It reminded him of the last glimpse he saw of Rose. [break] Mercilessly, Richard punched the door in front of him till cracks appeared.

Like a predator giving prey a head start. The monster roared again. The hour had begun. The eastern field was half a mile from the main walls. Open ground, gently sloping. Perfect for a trap if you know what you are looking for. If you didn't, it just looked like an empty field. Thea, Kael, and I led ten assistants carrying the twelve master runes. Each was the size of a dinner plate, carved from obsidian, glowing with silver light. Heavy. The assistants moved carefully, reverently.