Werewolf Apocalypse: Rise of the Lycans

The Command

GRRR-RAAAAH! She roared from under the water, sending powerful vibrations that rattled my teeth straight through my skull. In the pale glare, I watched her body fight the purge. I had never been so terrified in my life.

The parasite—that ancient lycanthropic curse—as physically resisting. Beneath her translucent skin, the black, spiderweb veins didn't just recede; they writhed like wriggling black worms, tearing at her muscle fibers as they were violently scorched by the altar's energy.

On my own, I stood no chance, but with the power coming from the symbol of the Sun-Crest, I felt powerful.

The Sun-Crest on my right palm burned with a heat so intense I thought my skin was melting off the bone. The sigil wasn't just glowing anymore; it was projecting a solid, three-dimensional seal onto her neck, searing straight into her flesh.

Hold on, I screamed in my own head, my vision going black around the edges as my oxygen ran completely out. Clara, hold on!

With a sudden, explosive THUMMP, the altar’s reservoir discharged its power. A shockwave of pure kinetic light erupted from the bottom of the basin, launching both of our bodies out of the water.

We slammed hard onto the cold white marble floor of the sanctuary, skidding through pools of splashing, sacred water.

I tumbled to a stop on my back, gasping and coughing up lungfuls of clear liquid as my chest heaved violently. My eyes blurred from the confusion and pain that flared from my ribs where her talons had torn me open, but I dragged myself onto my elbows, my knuckles dragging against the wet stone as I searched for her.

"Clara..." I wheezed, my raw throat barely producing the sound. "Clara!"

Five feet away, she lay completely still on her side.

The red moonlight pouring down from the three-hundred-foot shaft hit her body, but this time, her flesh didn't react. The dark, matted fur that had begun sprouting along her forearms was gone, dissolved into grey ash that washed away in the water. Her fingernails were soft, neat, and human again. The black, pulsing veins on her neck had vanished, leaving behind only the faint, pinkish crescent of her original bite mark—and right over it, a pale, barely visible scar in the shape of my Sun-Crest.

She wasn't shaking and neither was she radiating that terrifying, furnace-like heat.

I scrambled over to her on my hands and knees with my heart hammering heavily like it was going to burst, against my ribs. I reached out with a trembling hand and pulled her shoulder back.

Her chest rose and fell in a slow, deep, natural rhythm, and finally, her eyelids fluttered open. The terrifying, liquid gold was completely gone. Her eyes were deep, warm brown, exhausted and dazed, but completely, undeniably human.

"Leo...?" she whispered, her voice fragile, barely louder than the dripping water.

A ragged, shuddering sob tore out of my chest. I didn't care about the blood dripping from my ribs or the blistered skin on my palm. I pulled her up into my arms, burying my face into her wet hair, holding her so tight I could feel every beat of her steady human heart.

"You're back," I choked out, tears burning my eyes. "You're okay. You're okay."

"My head..." she murmured, her small hands weakly clutching my soaked shirt. "The noise... it stopped, Leo. The howling in my head... it's quiet."

"It's over," I lied, pressing my forehead against hers. "It's gone."

CRACK-CRACK-CRACK! The moment of peace shattered like thin ice.

From the high, vaulted ceiling three hundred feet above, a heavy shower of stone dust and mortar rained down into the basin.

Above the vertical shaft open to the night sky, the deep red clouds didn't clear. The Harvest Blood Moon had reached its exact zenith. And sitting right along the rim of the stone opening, framed against the crimson light of the moon, was a shadow so massive it blocked out the sky.

It wasn't a standard wolf, it was a twelve feet monster of terrifying, lean, coal-black muscle, its shoulders were so wide it seemed to span the entire stone shaft. Its fur didn't just reflect the light; it seemed to swallow it. Its eyes weren't gold or red—they burned with an ancient, sickly violet flame.

Alpha Vane. I thought.

How I knew it was him, I had no idea, it probably had something to do with the mark on my hand. I was sure of that.

The beast looked down into the deep, sacred sanctuary, staring directly at the white altar, directly at the faint, glowing mark on my right palm, and directly at the cured girl in my arms.

When it spoke, its voice didn't echo like Varek's. It was a terrifying, telepathic weight that slammed straight into my brain, heavy enough to make my nose bleed on the spot.

"The Priestly blood has awakened," the Alpha's voice rumbled inside my skull, thick with centuries of ancient, unadulterated malice. "The seal is broken. Bring me the boy... and tear the altar to the ground."

High above us, the iron gates down the entry corridor began to scream under the weight of a dozen heavy bodies slamming against the meteoric metal. They were desperately scrambling for who would take the lead in capturing me and bringing the altar to the ground. It was now I really needed the presence of the synod. At least, they could buy me time to escape these blood thirsty beast. Maybe, I would have stood a chance if I was alone with the power behind me, but Clara here had made that almost impossible. She was weak and for now, completely dependent on me to carry her out of this place. I didn't know how I could run fast with her in my arms.

I raised my head to look at the monstrous beast watching us from above. The cure had worked and my dear Clara was saved. But as I looked up into the violet eyes of the beast staring down at us, I realized the real war hadn't even begun.