​🗡️ Chapter Nine: The Betrayal of Blood
​　Lyra returned an hour later with a tablet loaded with Silver Moon Pack lore, and a fresh change of clothes. She didn't look at me directly, clearly unnerved by the Anchor's increased power.
​　"The Alpha requires you to wear this," she said, handing me a dress made of heavy, dark velvet. It was beautiful, formal, and looked impossibly difficult to tear.
​　"Why the formality?" I asked, taking the dress.
​　"It's a traditional Silver Moon garment for a new mate. But more practically, Alpha Kael has reinforced the lining with a fine layer of silver thread. It helps channel the Anchor's static energy away from the interior of the cabin. It's for our safety, not yours." Her honesty was stark.
​　I put the dress on. It was constricting, heavy, and made me feel more like a prisoner dressed for execution than a newly claimed mate.
​　I spent the afternoon hunched over the tablet and the journal, searching for any magical counter-measure to the Thorn. The digitized lore was useless—it was flowery poetry about the Shield's bravery, omitting any mention of the price.
​　The journal, however, held clues. I discovered a new technique: holding the locket Elias gave me—the one Kael called "crude"—over the page. The locket was an artifact, and its own energy emission revealed a small schematic.
​　The schematic was of the circular rune on my back—the very same symbol Kael's bite had activated. But the schematic showed a tiny, secondary rune within the circle.
​　I held the journal closer to the fire, reading the small, cramped script below the drawing:
​　> The Thorn cannot be deactivated once the ritual begins. Its power is primal. However, the secondary rune is the Thorn's Control Mechanism. This secondary rune must be pierced by the Vessel's own blood, but only when the Vessel is in a state of absolute self-will, not resistance. If the Thorn is pierced by the Vessel, it will redirect its kill-energy not into the Alpha, but into the next willing male kin.
​　I dropped the journal, the leather slapping against the wooden floor. My blood ran cold.
​　The next willing male kin. That meant Elias.
​　My mother hadn't created a fail-safe; she had created a suicide pact. If I completed the bond, Kael died. If I activated the control mechanism, Elias died. And if I did nothing, the Shadow Cult would tear the Shard out of me, and I would die.
​　My choice was not between captivity and freedom; it was between Kael's life and Elias's life.
​　The door opened, and Kael entered. He was now wearing formal, high-collared black leather, the color contrasting sharply with his silver eyes. He looked magnificent, dangerous, and completely focused on his duty.
​　"It is almost time," he said, his voice flat. "Lyra has prepared the chamber. The Gamma, Roric, and Elias are waiting."
​　I stood up, the heavy velvet dress rustling. I had to know.
​　"Kael, if I had a choice," I whispered, meeting his gaze, "if I could save both your pack and my brother without this... this forced sacrifice, would you let me?"
​　He didn't hesitate. "Yes. I would be indebted to you for life. The Shard is my duty, not my desire. But we are out of time, Ember. The Shadow Cult is mobilizing."
​　His truth, honest and painful, shattered my last layer of defense. I believed him. He was a ruthless savior, not a cruel captor. And I couldn't let my mother's perverse magic kill him, or condemn Elias.
​　I had to find a third option.
​　"I need five minutes alone," I told him, my voice firm. "To prepare myself. For the sacrifice."
​　Kael studied me, his silver eyes searching my face for any sign of deception. He must have seen the genuine despair, because he nodded slowly. "Five minutes. No longer. Do not test my patience, Ember."
​　As soon as the door closed, I raced to the one sharp object in the room: the small fire poker, tucked away next to the hearth.
​　My plan was terrifying, rash, and completely necessary. I had to activate the control mechanism—pierce the secondary rune on my back with my own blood—but I had to do it before the bond began, and I had to find a way to sever the kill-energy's connection to Elias.
​　I twisted the velvet dress off my shoulders, exposing my back. I located the mark with my fingers—the smooth, circular scar where the Shard was anchored.
​　I took a deep breath, fighting the panic. The secondary rune was microscopic. I couldn't pierce it with the crude poker.
​　Wait. Vessel's Blood.
​　The Silver Thorn was triggered by the Alpha's intent, but the Control Mechanism was activated by the Vessel's own blood. I didn't need to stab the rune. I just needed to deposit my blood on it.
​　I gripped the fire poker, ignoring the searing pain as I drove the tip against the pad of my finger. A single, dark droplet of my human-unformed blood welled up.
​　Before I could change my mind, I reached around and pressed the drop of blood directly onto the glowing rune on my back.
​　The reaction was instantaneous and violent. The silver cuff on my wrist flashed with white-hot light, searing my skin. A sharp, icy spike of energy slammed into my spine, and I heard a magical CRACK that sounded like glass breaking.
​　I didn't pass out. Instead, I was slammed against the wall, the world spinning. I looked down at my wrist. The silver cuff was still there, but the intricate runes etched into the metal now seemed to be bleeding a fine, dark purple energy.
​　I had activated the Thorn's control mechanism. Elias was now the target.
​　I collapsed to the floor, panting, the taste of copper in my mouth. I had less than an hour to fix this.
​　I grabbed the Silver Moon tablet and searched the digitized lore again, using the newly revealed information: Secondary Rune, Control Mechanism, Kill-Energy Redirection. Nothing.
​　My eyes darted back to the journal, and the cryptic first lines: The blood calls. The cage is weak. They will come for the shards.
​　The Shadow Cult! Kael had mentioned they needed the Shard for a power source.
​　A desperate idea formed, insane and incredibly risky. The Thorn was designed to kill a wolf. The Shadow Cult was hunting the Shard. If I couldn't deactivate the Thorn, perhaps I could redirect the kill-energy to its original, external target: the magical threat.
​　They will come for the shards.
​　I flipped to a blank page and, using the last of my bleeding finger, drew a crude image of the circular rune, then stabbed the page with the bloody tip of the fire poker. I muttered the only incantation I knew—the simple words my mother had written: The blood calls. The cage is weak.
​　The small drop of blood on the page glowed, then vanished, seeping into the leather.
​　A thunderous pounding hit the front door of the lodge, shaking the entire cabin.
​　"Alpha Kael! We have a breach! Shadow Cult Warriors are crossing the perimeter!" Lyra's voice was sharp with panic.
​　My five minutes were up.