We left before dawn.
The fortress still smoked behind us, a ruin of ash and memory.
Lyra rode with Sera, hidden beneath a cloak that shimmered faintly in the light : a protective charm from the healers. She was weak, trembling, the echoes of that strange voice still lingering in her sleep.
Every time the wind shifted, I could hear her whispering fragments of a language older than the packs themselves.
"The blood has awakened... the gates will open..."
I tightened my grip on the reins.
If Elias wanted a war, he'd get one.
The road to the north was carved through mountains and mist.
By midday, the air had grown thin, carrying the metallic tang of magic. The wolves avoided this path for centuries — they said it was cursed. I believed them now.
Kellan led the vanguard ahead while Damian rode beside me in silence.
The rhythm of hooves and heartbeats filled the space between us : steady, distant, unbearably familiar.
Finally, he spoke. "You remember this road?"
"How could I forget?" I said quietly. "You brought me here once. The night before you marked me."
He looked down, guilt flickering across his face. "It was the last time I felt whole."
I kept my eyes on the path. "You don't get to say that to me."
"I know."
Silence again. Only wind and regret.
By nightfall, we reached the ruins of the old monastery.
The place reeked of ancient power : crumbled stone, broken arches, walls carved with runes that glowed faintly red beneath the rising moon.
"This is it" Damian murmured. "The resting place of the First Wolf."
"The one Elias is trying to wake" I said.
He nodded. "If he succeeds, the balance between light and shadow breaks. The Primordials return. And the world burns."
I exhaled, steady and sharp. "Then we stop him."
While the pack set camp, I explored the ruins. The air pulsed : alive, aware.The symbols on the walls seemed to move when I looked away.
My hand brushed one of them, and a shock ran through my body.In an instant, the world blurred.
Flashes, claws like fire, a wolf the size of a mountain, eyes white as the moon. A voice echoing through eternity:
"When blood and fire unite, the first will rise again."
I stumbled back, gasping.
Damian was there in seconds, catching me before I hit the ground.
"What happened?" he demanded.
"I saw it" I whispered. "The First Wolf. It's real."
He held me tighter than he should have, his heart hammering against mine.For a second, we weren't Alphas, weren't enemies : just two souls trapped in the same storm.
His gaze met mine, and I forgot to breathe.All the years, all the anger, all the distance, it all cracked in that moment.
Then he let go. Too quickly."We move at first light," he said roughly, turning away.
I stood there, trembling : not from fear this time, but from the weight of everything unsaid.
Later that night, I couldn't sleep.The wind outside howled like a living thing. I stepped out of the tent and saw Damian sitting near the fire, the blade of his sword glowing red in the flames.
He looked up. "You should rest."
"So should you."
He smiled faintly. "You always did say that."
For a moment, it felt almost like before. The silence wasn't sharp anymore : just heavy with everything we'd lost.
Then the ground shuddered.
A deep, rumbling growl rolled from beneath the ruins. The fire snapped and flared blue.
Kellan's voice rang out from the cliffs. "Alpha! Something's moving under us!"
The mountain split with a sound like thunder.
Stone shattered, dust erupted, and from the chasm below, something ancient stirred : a shadow with eyes of silver flame.
The First Wolf was waking.
As the dust settles, a voice as old as time fills the air : not human, not divine.
"The child of blood and fire belongs to me."
Lyra's scream echoes from the camp.