**Zara’s POV** The twins sleep fitfully, their small bodies tangled in blankets. Silas’s brow furrows, his silver eyes darting beneath closed lids, while Selene’s glow flickers like a dying ember. Lyra’s sacrifice lingers in the air, her absence a hollow ache. I brush a curl from Selene’s forehead, my hand trembling. “They’re just children,” I whisper, though no one is listening. Ryland stands in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the dim light of the hall. “They’re more than that now,” he says quietly. “And so are we.” I turn to him, my voice sharp. “What does that even mean? Are we supposed to just… let them carry this burden? Let them fight battles that should never have been theirs?” He steps into the room, his gray eyes shadowed. “We don’t have a choice, Zara. The Veil chose them. Lyra chose them. And if we try to hold them back, we’ll only make it harder for them.” I want to argue, to scream that it’s not fair, but the words die on my lips. Because deep down, I k
**Zara’s POV** The crack in the sky looms larger now, a jagged tear that pulses with a faint, sickly light. The pack watches it warily, their murmurs a constant hum of unease. I stand at the edge of the clearing, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, as Ryland addresses the gathered wolves. “The Veil is unstable,” he says, his voice carrying over the crowd. “But the twins are working to mend it. We need to trust them—and each other.” Jarek steps forward, his scarred face grim. “And what happens if they can’t fix it? What happens if the Veil collapses?” Ryland’s jaw tightens. “Then we’ll face whatever comes next. Together.” The pack’s murmurs grow louder, their fear palpable. I turn away, my stomach churning. The weight of their expectations feels like a stone in my chest. **The Twins’ POV** Silas and Selene sit in the forest, their hands pressed to the earth as they try to mend the fissure Lyra’s sacrifice left behind. The Veil’s energy is chaotic, thrashing against th
**Zara’s POV** The forest is too quiet. The Veil’s fissure may be mended, but the air hums with unease, like the calm before a storm. I watch Silas and Selene sparring under Lyra’s old oak, their laughter tinged with the weight of secrets they shouldn’t bear. Silas hurls a bolt of silver energy at his sister, who deflects it with a shield of light. They’re powerful. Too powerful. Ryland’s hand settles on my shoulder. “They’re stronger every day.” “That’s what scares me,” I murmur. A crow caws overhead, its feathers glinting unnaturally violet. Selene freezes mid-motion, her glow flickering. “Mommy… something’s wrong.” The ground shudders. --- **The Twins’ POV** Silas feels it first—a pull in his chest, cold and insistent. The Veil’s heart thrums like a war drum. *“Find us,”* it whispers. *“Before they do.”* “Did you hear that?” Selene asks, her glow dimming to a wary pulse. Silas nods, fists clenched. “It’s coming from the old ruins.” The ones Lyra forbade them t
**Zara’s POV** The scroll burns in my hand, its edges crumbling like ancient skin. *First Alpha’s tomb.* The words taste like ash, but they’re the only lead we have. Selene’s breath hitches beside me, her corrupted arm tucked against her chest. The violet mark pulses faintly, a venomous vine creeping toward her shoulder. “We need to leave now,” I say, strapping a dagger to my thigh. Ryland blocks the doorway, his gray eyes stormy. “It’s a trap. The tomb hasn’t been touched in centuries—no one knows what’s down there.” “And if we do nothing, this *thing* consumes her,” I snap, gesturing to Selene. Her glow, usually warm gold, flickers with sickly violet hues. Silas steps forward, his small jaw set. “I’m going too. I can help.” “No,” Ryland and I say in unison. Selene tugs my sleeve. “Please, Mommy. I’m scared to stay.” I hesitate, my resolve cracking. The pack’s distrust hangs thick in the air; Jarek’s wolves linger outside, their whispers sharp as knives. Leaving her
**Zara’s POV** The dagger’s power burns through me, a searing light that feels like both salvation and destruction. My vision blurs as the Forgotten Ones close in, their violet-tinged shadows clawing at the edges of the tomb. Selene’s scream echoes in my ears, her corrupted arm writhing as the mark spreads. “Zara!” Kieran shouts, his wolf form a blur of fur and fury as he tears into the creatures. “Do it now!” I clutch the dagger tighter, its obsidian blade glowing with moonlight. The First Alpha’s voice whispers in my mind, cold and unyielding. *“Sacrifice the heart to save the soul.”* I don’t hesitate. I plunge the dagger into my chest. --- **The Veil’s Embrace** The world dissolves into light and shadow. I float in a void, the Veil’s energy swirling around me like a living thing. The First Alpha stands before me, her form shimmering with starlight and decay. *“You chose well,”* she says, her voice a chorus of echoes. *“But the price is steep.”* “What price?” I d
**Silas’s POV** The memorial stone is cold under my palms, its surface etched with Mom’s name. Selene’s glow flickers beside me, casting shaky light over the symbols. *Zara Cross. Mate. Mother. Guardian.* “She’s not gone,” I mutter, digging my claws into the stone. “She’s in the Veil. We can bring her back.” Selene’s hand trembles as she touches my arm. “Silas, the Veil’s heart is balanced now. If we disrupt it—” “I don’t care about balance!” I jerk away, silver energy crackling at my fingertips. “She didn’t have to leave us!” The forest around us stirs, leaves rustling with a sound like whispers. Selene’s glow dims, her corrupted arm—now clean but scarred—tucked close. “We have to trust her choice.” I don’t answer. Trust won’t fill the hole in my chest. --- **Ryland’s POV** The pack gathers under the Bloodfang banner, their eyes hollow with grief. Jarek stands at the front, arms crossed, but even his defiance feels muted. “The Veil is stable,” I say, my voice roug
**Silas’s POV** The crown burns. It’s not fire, not ice—it’s something worse. A thousand voices scream in my head, their words sharp and jagged. *“You are mine now,”* the First Shadow hisses, his presence a suffocating weight. I try to claw the crown off, but my hands won’t obey. My body isn’t mine anymore. Selene’s glow flickers in the distance, her voice faint. “Silas! Fight him!” I want to. I *try*. But the Shadow’s laughter drowns me. --- **Ryland’s POV** The pack scatters as the First Shadow emerges, his form a shifting mass of smoke and starlight. Silas stands at his side, the crown’s obsidian spikes digging into his brow. “Silas!” I roar, shifting mid-stride. My wolf lunges, but the Shadow flicks a hand, and I’m thrown back like a leaf in a storm. Jarek grabs my arm, his scarred face pale. “We can’t fight that.” “We don’t have a choice,” I snarl. Selene steps forward, her glow brightening. “Let me try.” --- **Selene’s POV** The Veil’s whispers guide
**Silas’s POV** The world is muted, like I’m underwater. I can hear Selene’s voice, faint and frantic, but it’s distant, as if she’s calling from another realm. My body feels heavy, my limbs unresponsive. The crown’s shards are gone, but its echo lingers—a cold, hollow ache in my chest. “Silas, please,” Selene whispers, her glow flickering above me. “Open your eyes.” I try. I *try*. But the darkness pulls me under. --- **Selene’s POV** The Veil’s whispers grow louder, their tone urgent. *“The Shadow’s mark remains. The crown’s power lingers.”* I press my hands to Silas’s chest, my glow intensifying. The scar where the crown sat pulses faintly, a jagged line of violet light. “What do I do?” I ask the Veil, my voice trembling. *“Purge the mark. But it will cost you.”* “I don’t care about the cost,” I snap. The Veil falls silent. --- **Ryland’s POV** The pack gathers in the clearing, their eyes wary. Jarek stands at the front, his scarred face unreadable and un
**Silas’s POV** The Trinity steps forward, its tri-colored eye burning like a dying star. The ground beneath its feet cracks, veins of violet and gold spreading like poisoned roots. Its voice echoes with the First Shadow’s malice, the crow’s cunning, and something else—something raw and hungry. *“You cannot run from inevitability,”* it croons, flexing a hand woven of shadow and light. *“The Veil’s chaos is my birthright.”* The void wolf circles us, its eyeless gaze piercing. Selene grips my arm, her bloodied sleeve staining my skin. “We need to split up. Distract it.” Jarek steps between us and the Trinity, his dagger trembling. “Go. I’ll hold it.” “You’ll die,” I snap. He bares his teeth. “Better than living useless.” The Trinity laughs, a sound like shattering glass. *“How noble. Let’s test that.”* It flicks a finger. The void wolf lunges. **Selene’s Flight** We sprint into the skeletal forest, the Trinity’s laughter chasing us. My glow flickers, strained from s
**Silas’s POV** The scar itches. Not the searing pain of before, but a slow, creeping burn that makes my skin crawl. I scratch at it absently, my gaze locked on the golden crow—*gray-eyed* crow—perched in the dead oak. Its once-bright plumage is dull, streaked with ash, and it watches me with an unsettling stillness. “It’s changing,” I mutter to Selene. She doesn’t look up from the map of Veil fractures. “Everything’s changing.” The pack’s camp buzzes with wary energy. Wolves sharpen blades, mutter prayers, and side-eye Jarek as he hauls water from the creek. His shoulders are hunched, his movements mechanical, like a puppet held together by guilt. Ryland emerges from his tent, his gaze sweeping the clearing. “Scouts report a new tear near the southern ridge. Selene, Silas—you’ll lead the team to seal it.” Jarek steps forward, his voice rough. “Let me go instead. They shouldn’t risk—” “You’ve risked enough,” Ryland snaps. The crow caws abruptly, its gray eye flashing.
**Ryland’s POV** The pack’s council fire burns low, its embers reflecting the fractured trust in the wolves’ eyes. Jarek sits apart, his head bowed, the shadow crow’s corruption scrubbed from his veins but not his soul. The guilt radiating from him is palpable, a stench even the night wind can’t carry away. Kieran tosses a log onto the fire, sparks spiraling into the dark. “We need to fortify the borders. The Veil’s tears are seeping into the territory. Last night, the river turned black.” Murmurs ripple through the pack. A young mother clutches her pup closer. “Will it spread here?” “No,” I say, the lie smooth and heavy. “We’ll contain it.” Jarek’s laugh is a broken rasp. “You don’t even believe that.” Silence falls. The fire crackles, its light flickering over the scars we all wear. Selene steps into the circle, her glow dim but steady. “The Veil’s heart is weak, but not broken. We can still save it.” “How?” Jarek challenges. “With more sacrifices? More *children’s*
**Ryland’s POV** The ground splinters beneath our feet, jagged fissures snaking outward like veins of decay. The air vibrates with the Veil’s anguished scream, a sound that claws at the mind and soul. Jarek stands at the tomb’s entrance, the black shard pulsing in his grip, his eyes twin pools of violet fire. “You’ve doomed us all,” I snarl, shifting as the pack scatters behind me. He laughs, the shadow crow perched on his shoulder like a twisted crown. “No, Alpha. I’ve *freed* us.” The shard’s energy writhes around him, tendrils of darkness lashing at the crumbling stone. Behind him, the tomb’s heart—a fractured mirror—quivers, its remaining shards teetering on the edge of collapse. “Stand down, Jarek,” I growl, circling him. “This isn’t you.” “Isn’t it?” He bares his teeth, the corruption snaking up his neck. “You coddled those brats while the pack starved for strength. The Shadow offers what you never could.” The shadow crow croons, its voice harmonizing with the Vei
**Selene’s POV** The water is ice and fire, clawing at my skin as I’m dragged deeper. My glow flickers, struggling against the suffocating darkness. The golden shard gleams below, its light distorted by the rippling surface. “Let go!” I scream, kicking at the clawed hand gripping my ankle. The creature—half shadow, half memory—turns, its face a grotesque mockery of Zara’s. *“You cannot mend what you refuse to face,”* it hisses. I focus on the bond, on Silas’s frantic presence. *“I’m here,”* I whisper, though the water steals my voice. The golden crow’s cry pierces the depths. *“Remember.”* --- **Silas’s Desperation** The lake’s surface freezes over the moment Selene disappears. I slam my fists against the ice, the scar on my chest burning. “Selene!” The golden crow lands beside me, its gold eye dim. *“The Veil tests her. You must face your own trial.”* “I’m not leaving her!” *“You must,”* it insists. *“Or you’ll both be lost.”* The ice cracks beneath my hands,
**Silas’s POV** The tomb’s explosion leaves a ringing silence. Smoke and shards of the mirror hang suspended in the air, glinting like frozen stars. My scar burns, a molten brand searing through muscle and bone. Zara’s voice lingers in my skull, a ghostly echo. *“Courage, Silas. Not for you—for them.”* The crow’s split forms hover above the chaos—one a writhing mass of shadow and feathers, the other a radiant silhouette of starlight. Their twin gazes lock onto me, one accusing, one pleading. Selene staggers to my side, her glow fractured. “What did you do?” “I… don’t know.” The suspended shards quiver. Then, like a breath exhaled, they surge outward. --- **Ryland’s POV** The blast flings me into the tomb’s wall. Stone cracks beneath my spine, but I’m on my feet in an instant. “Selene! Silas!” The twins stand at the epicenter, unharmed but haloed in a corona of light and shadow. Around them, the pack scrambles—Jarek cursing as a shard slices his arm, Kieran dragging a
**Silas’s POV** The crow perches on the charred remains of the sacred oak, its mismatched eyes piercing the twilight. Violet and gold—corruption and something else, something that claws at my chest where the scar lies dormant. I press a hand to it, the skin cold and taut. *“You feel it, don’t you?”* The voice is softer now, a serpentine whisper instead of a roar. *“The fracture. The choice.”* “Shut up,” I mutter, turning away. But the crow’s gaze follows, relentless. Selene finds me at the forest’s edge, her glow dimmed by exhaustion. “You’re hiding again.” I don’t answer. The scar throbs, a silent warning. --- **Ryland’s Dilemma** The pack council fractures like rotten wood. Jarek stands before the gathered wolves, his axe slung over his shoulder. “We buried Mara. We bled for the tomb. And what do we have? A bird and a scar.” Ryland’s growl silences the murmurs. “We have survival. Or would you prefer the Shadow’s chains?” “I’d prefer a leader who doesn’t gamble ou
**Silas’s POV** The Shadow’s new form looms over me, a grotesque fusion of matted fur and glistening feathers. His violet eyes burn like twin pyres, and his talons—half claw, half bone—scrape against the tomb’s stone floor. The air reeks of decay, the Veil’s corrupted energy thickening until I can barely breathe. *“You should have knelt,”* the Shadow hisses, his voice a chorus of caws and snarls. *“Now you’ll die as your mother did—alone.”* My scar flares, a searing reminder of Zara’s sacrifice. I clutch my chest, gritting my teeth against the pain. “I’m *never* alone.” Her voice whispers through the tomb, faint but unyielding. *“Use the bond, Silas. Trust her.”* I close my eyes and reach for Selene. --- **Selene’s POV** Kieran’s blade trembles against my throat, his breath ragged. The rot has spread up his arms, blackening his veins. “Fight him, Kieran!” I plead. “You’re stronger than this!” His pupils flicker—brown, then violet. *“He’s… gone…”* The roots surging
**Silas’s POV** The pyre’s smoke curls into the dawn sky, carrying the acrid stench of betrayal. Mara’s ashes mingle with the frost, but the pack’s eyes linger on me—not with reverence, but fear. My scar pulses faintly, a reminder of the Shadow’s whispers that still snake through my dreams. “You’re staring again,” Selene murmurs, her glow dimmed by exhaustion. I rip my gaze from the crow perched atop the charred remains of the sacred oak. Its violet eye glints, unblinking. “It’s watching us.” “It’s just a bird,” she says, but her trembling hands betray her doubt. The crow caws, sharp and mocking, before vanishing into the mist. --- **Ryland’s Burden** The pack gathers in the hollow, their murmurs a storm of grief and suspicion. Jarek stands apart, sharpening his axe with deliberate slowness. “Mara’s betrayal doesn’t erase her years of loyalty,” Ryland declares, his voice raw. “We mourn her. Then we rebuild.” “Rebuild *what*?” a young warrior snaps. “The rot’s back.