The mountain trembled again.
Dust rained down from the stone ceiling of the hidden chamber as Elara and Aiden shot to their feet. The waters of the ancient pool rippled violently now, no longer calm, no longer still.
"The words are failing," Aiden said through clenched teeth, his voice sharp with disbelief. "That shouldn't be possible."
Elara's hands still glowed with faint silver fire. "Then they've found a way through."
Aiden grabbed her wrist—not roughly, but with urgency. "We have to get to the surface. Now."
Together, they raced up the stone steps, the torch flames bending and flickering as if sensing the surge of magic in Elara's body. By the time they reached the upper hall, the sounds of chaos had erupted in full force—roaring wolves, shouts of warriors, the unmistakable clang of weapons.
It wasn't just a breach.
It was a full-scale attack.
Outside Blackmoon Hold, under the rising sliver of a blood-red moon, the Crimson Order made their move.
Figures cloaked in shadow and scarlet surged through the forest, slipping past the shattered remnants of the ancient wards. Their weapons glowed with dark enchantments—obsidian blades that dripped with magic. At their front was the woman in black.
Tall. Regal. Merciless.
She raised her hand, and the very trees bent back, clearing a path for her soldiers.
"Take the gates," she said coldly. "But leave the girl alive."
Behind her, a pale wolf with glowing red eyes growled lowly. Its snarl was not natural. It was twisted, corrupted by blood magic.
The Shadow Bound.
They were no longer just stories.
They were real.
And they were hunting.
Inside the stronghold, Aiden and Elara emerged into the great hall, where warriors had already formed lines—steel, and claws braced for the oncoming storm.
Beta Cade met them at the stairs, blood streaking his arm.
"They came through the east wall," he barked. "Something tore the stones apart like they were nothing. We've got about fifty warriors at the perimeter, but we're outnumbered."
Aiden's jaw tightened. "Tell Mira to reinforce the inner defenses. No one gets past the central court. And if they do—"
He looked to Elara.
"She's priority one."
Cade hesitated. "You sure she shouldn't be moved somewhere safe?"
"She is the storm," Aiden growled. "The safest place is at my side."
Elara gave him a look—half exasperated, half amused—but said nothing. Inside, though, her pulse thundered.
Was she really the key to this war?
And if so... why had her mother hidden her away instead of preparing her?
The first of the enemy breached the front gates with a deafening roar of collapsing metal. Blackmoon warriors surged forward, howls echoing, the ground shaking beneath their feet as wolves shifted mid-charge.
Elara stood at the center of it all, heart hammering, watching as the ancient pack she'd stumbled into faced off against enemies born of a nightmare.
Suddenly, a rush of movement to her left—a Crimson soldier had broken through the front, his blade aimed straight for her heart.
But before Elara could react, Aiden was there.
In a blur of motion, he shifted—bones snapping, fur erupting across his form in a violent transformation—and his wolf lunged.
He was massive, even by Alpha standards.
Black as night, eyes glowing with primal fury, fangs sinking deep into the soldier's arm. With one savage twist, Aiden ripped the man away and flung him across the courtyard like a ragdoll.
Elara watched in awe. No, not awe—recognition. Her wolf, still dormant, stirred as if reaching toward his.
They were connected.
In ways, she was only beginning to understand.
Back near the temple ruins outside the walls, something stirred beneath the earth.
The seal that had been placed there centuries ago—by Elara's mother and a circle of the last true Oracles—was crumbling.
Cracks ran through the old runes etched into the stones. Light seeped through them like bleeding veins.
And deep below, something ancient opened its eyes.
Something bound to Elara by blood.
Something... awakening.
Back in the fortress, the tide of battle raged.
Elara fought as best she could, not with blades, but with instinct.
She reached for the power within her, calling it, pleading with it to rise—not like fire this time, but like light, like something pure.
And suddenly, it answered.
When the next soldier lunged at her, her hand shot out—and a bolt of silver light burst from her palm, sending the man flying backward with a scream.
He hit the wall and slumped, unmoving.
All around her, warriors froze. Even Cade stared.
Elara looked down at her hands, shaking. "I didn't even know I could do that."
Aiden—now in human form again—rushed to her side. "You're drawing on the Oracle's bloodline. It's waking up with every strike."
"But it's not controlled," she said. "It's wild."
"Then we need to help you tame it," Aiden said. "Fast."
Suddenly, a howl cut through the battlefield—long and mournful. It wasn't one of theirs.
Everyone turned.
And from the trees stepped the woman in black.
She was untouched by blood, untouched by battle.
And she was smiling.
"Elara," she called her voice like ice.
Elara froze.
"I knew your mother," the woman said softly, almost kindly. "She screamed your name with her dying breath."
Something inside Elara cracked.
"You killed her," she whispered.
The woman tilted her head. "She chose the wrong side. Just like you are now."
Before anyone could move, the woman raised her hand—and with a snap of her fingers, a ring of fire erupted around her.
From the flame stepped a monstrous creature—part wolf, part shadow. Its eyes glowed red, and it snarled in a voice that wasn't its own.
"You will come with us, Oracle," it growled. "Or we will burn this place to ash."
Aiden stepped between them, his voice deep with Alpha's authority. "You'll have to go through me first."
The woman smiled wider.
"I was hoping you'd say that."
Suddenly, the beast charged.
Aiden lunged.
Elara screamed—
And the world exploded in silver light.