The sky wept ash-grey tears over the pines.
Jackie stood at the edge of the village's outer ring, gaze fixed on the forest's spine. Thunder rolled like a distant war drum. Beneath his damp tunic, the woven armband still clung to his arm—his mark of passage. But the fire inside him hadn't settled. If anything, it had grown more restless since the rite.
The ember had not just lit his mask that night. It had lit something else.
A pulse. A vision.
A wolf with antlers. A howl that echoed through dream and waking alike.
> "The spirit-wolf watches the bloodmarked," Elder Muta had muttered near the coals the previous night. "Some say it chooses the next one."
Jackie hadn't meant to listen. But now he couldn't forget.
"I knew I'd find you staring at trees again."
Jackie turned as Yara approached, bow strapped to her back, eyes sharp. Her hair was braided in the pattern of Windborn huntresses now—evidence of her own rite passed. She paused, scanning the mist-veiled trail.
"You're going after it, aren't you?"
"I have to." He hesitated. "I saw it. In my dream. And after the fire trial... I felt it."
Yara exhaled, then nodded. "Then I'm coming too."
They stepped beneath the pine canopy together, into roots and shadow.
The forest greeted them with silence.
Not the kind born of peace—this was the hush of watchers, of beasts who knew their place and wondered who dared trespass. Mist clung to the low ferns, and thin light filtered through the green gloom. Every so often, a rustle. A movement. A scent.
Jackie's blood stirred each time, heart hammering with hope. The spirit-wolf. The dream. But each time, it was just an owl or the wind threading through bark.
The hours passed. They moved deeper than any safe hunting party dared. Here, even the trees leaned inward like judges. Old claw marks marred a standing stone near a frozen spring. Yara traced them.
"Too deep for any normal wolf."
"Spirit-wolves don't leave tracks," Jackie murmured.
"You sure about that?" She pointed to a tuft of black fur caught on the stone's jagged edge.
Jackie took it carefully, sniffing it. The scent hit him like an arrow to the gut—wet fur, lightning, smoke—and something else: familiarity.
He staggered slightly. Inside his chest, the bloodline answered. Not a roar. A flicker.
> [Blood Pulse Detected: Ancestral Link — ???]
[Wolfflame Lineage: Resonance Level—Awakening Tier 1]
His vision blurred for an instant. The world snapped back into place—sharper now. The air buzzed with hidden life.
"Jackie?" Yara touched his arm. "What was that?"
"I don't know. But it's near. I know it is."
The howl came moments later.
Farther east. Low. Drawn out. Not threatening. Calling.
They ran.
The storm hit like a thrown spear.
Wind slammed through the trees, flinging needles and bark. Lightning cracked above the canopy. Rain poured down in sheets, soaking them instantly.
Yara cursed and pulled up her cloak. Jackie pressed on, mud sucking at his boots.
Then he heard it—not the howl. A different sound.
A whimper.
He slid to a stop near a collapsed tree. A twisted branch jutted up like a broken rib. Beneath it, half-buried in mud and ferns, a black wolfcub struggled feebly.
Its left leg was pinned under the splintered trunk. Thorns had torn its ears. It bared tiny fangs, too weak to bite, soaked and shivering.
"Yara—help me!"
They rushed forward, and Jackie dropped to his knees. Rain mixed with blood and sap as he clawed at the branch. Bark bit into his arms. Thorns sliced his cheeks. He gritted his teeth and pulled.
> This is nothing compared to fire, he told himself.
The wood didn't budge.
Yara braced against the trunk. "On my count—one, two—now!"
Together, they heaved. Wood cracked. The limb shifted just enough.
The cub wriggled free and collapsed onto Jackie's chest, panting, eyes wide and shining silver-blue. He clutched it to him, heartbeat syncing with its trembling ribs.
Then came the moment.
Power-level moment.
The Heartstone in his pocket warmed—faint, but unmistakable.
And inside Jackie's veins, something ancient shifted.
A warmth curled beneath his sternum, spiraling upward—a second heartbeat, not his own.
The cub's eyes met his.
> [Bloodline Synchronization Initiated]
[Bond Potential Detected: Wolfflame Variant – Spiritborn Class]
He gasped. The cub's silver gaze locked with his, not wild now but knowing. It blinked once.
Then nestled into the crook of his neck.
Yara crouched beside him, expression unreadable. "It chose you."
"I don't think it had a choice."
She shook her head. "No. You're the one who doesn't."
That night, under a canopy of wet leaves, Jackie and Yara made a fire with what little dry moss they could find. The cub lay curled beside Jackie, muzzle resting on his ankle. Its breathing had evened out, but it didn't sleep. Neither did Jackie.
Yara passed him a strip of smoked marrow root. "So. What now? You gonna march back into the village with a spirit-cub under your cloak?"
"They'll never let me keep it."
"Not unless you prove it's part of you."
Jackie rubbed the bandage on his palm. Beneath the cloth, the burn had started to scab—but the warmth had never left it. The mark, the ember, the bloodline—it all led here.
"To prove it, I have to be it," he murmured.
Yara smiled faintly. "That sounds like something Rahu would say."
They didn't speak for a while after that.
End Hook:
The rain faded sometime before dawn.
When Jackie stepped out of the shelter to gather kindling, his foot landed in a track—massive, clawed, still steaming.
Not the cub's.
Not any beast he knew.
He looked up. The trees were silent. The sky had begun to clear. Mist coiled like ghosts among the trunks.
He turned slowly.
In the mud behind their camp… another track.
Two sets. Facing each other. One wolf. One human.
And just above them, carved deep into the bark of a twisted pine, were three symbols:
> Flame. Fang. Oath.
End of Chapter 10