The forest was darker here.Lucas gripped the note tighter, the ink slightly smudged by rain and sweat. The coordinates led them deep into Thalindor’s forgotten outskirts—a place not even Skylar had mapped. The trees loomed taller, their branches clawing at the sky like skeletal fingers. The air was thick, charged with something old and watching.Dylan led the way, every step silent, every breath measured. He moved like a shadow, every motion precise, as if the forest itself might lash out at the wrong sound.Dan, ever the mood-breaker, tried to lighten the tension. “I’m just saying—if we’re walking into a trap, we could at least bring snacks.”Skylar gave him a sideways glance sharp enough to cut. “If we die, I hope you choke on your chips first.”Lucas smiled faintly despite the weight in his chest. “If there’s danger ahead, we face it together. No surprises. No splits.”Their boots crunched over moss and cracked twigs as they reached a clearing. Moss grew over remnants of something

The man with pale eyes didn’t move. Lucas stared back, heart racing. Something about him didn’t fit. He wasn’t kneeling like the others. He didn’t speak. He didn’t blink. There was a strange stillness about him—an intensity that hummed just beneath the surface. Not threatening. Not welcoming. Just… unreadable. Skylar whispered, “You see it too?” Lucas nodded slowly. “Yeah.” The air between them grew heavy. Dylan stepped forward, voice low and wary. “That’s Kalen. Former second-in-command of the Crimson Fangs. He vanished after the blood cull.” Dan looked confused. “Should we be worried?” Skylar answered, “Very.” The fire crackled. Sparks danced into the sky as Kalen finally stepped forward, his boots crunching over frost-bitten leaves. He moved with calm precision, each step deliberate. Lucas tensed, feeling the shift rise inside him. Not fear—something older. Recognition. Like an old dream resurfacing. Kalen stopped a few feet away. “You bear the mark,” he said

Lucas sat in silence as the others packed up their gear. The memory of Ashmoor’s vision burned behind his eyes like an ember that wouldn’t go out. He had seen the end. Their end. But only if they made the wrong moves. Skylar paced near the ridge. “Whatever that orb was... it gave you something. I saw the glow in your eyes.” “I saw us fall,” Lucas said quietly. Dan sat across from him. “That doesn’t mean we will. Visions change. Right? That’s how this stuff works?” Kalen stood with his arms crossed. “Not if we keep hesitating.” Lucas looked up. “Then we stop hesitating.” He rose, brushing ash from his coat. “We call a war council. One week from today. Every remaining pack. Every rogue willing to talk. Every hybrid. If they want a place in what comes next, they show up.” Dylan raised an eyebrow. “You think they’ll listen?” “They will,” Lucas said. “Or they’ll be left behind.” --- The message went out that night. Through runners. Through howl echoes. Through the whis

“The air just changed,” Dan muttered, squinting down the stairwell. “I can’t feel my toes.” “Then walk faster,” Skylar snapped, her hand already resting on the hilt of her blade. They moved down the spiraling staircase, stone steps worn with age. Each step echoed, and with every turn, the temperature dropped more. Lucas kept his eyes on the runes flickering along the walls. “These weren’t here before.” “They were dormant,” Lauren said, brushing her fingers over a glowing sigil. “Now they’re awake.” “Why?” Dylan asked from behind. “What triggered them?” “Lucas,” she answered simply. Dan sighed. “Of course. The guy with the family discount on cursed ruins.” They reached the bottom. A massive stone door loomed before them, flanked by two wolf statues—one snarling, the other silent and watchful. At the center of the door was a crest: half-moon, fangs, and a single crimson eye. Lucas stepped closer. “That’s mine.” Skylar stood behind him. “It matches the mark on your che

The outlaw’s voice faded into the crackling fire, and silence settled like frost over the gathering. The pack stared, unsure whether to speak, run, or attack. Lucas stepped forward. “What do you mean ‘erase me’?” The old wolf—Grath, they had called him—nodded once. “The Ash Queen doesn’t see you as a threat. She sees you as a flaw. A mistake that never should’ve existed. A True Alpha who slipped through the cracks of her prophecy.” Kalen folded his arms. “Then she wants to rewrite the bloodline.” “Not rewrite.” Grath looked up. “Purge.” Lucas glanced at Kalen. “What does she gain by killing me?” Grath answered, “The prophecy that crowned her—the one carved into the Moonstone altar—it only works if your bloodline is extinguished. She’s holding her return until she’s sure you’re dead.” Lucas frowned. “So… she’s stalling?” “No,” said Grath. “She’s gathering. Strengthening. Binding the old magic to her bones. And when the last Tallman falls, she rises as something else.” Skylar m