The world was a blur of motion, shadows twisting into shapes as I regained my senses. My head throbbed, and the bitter taste of failure clung to my mouth. Draven’s second-in-command stood across from us, his twisted smile mocking the effort it had taken to infiltrate the camp. The night air was thick with tension, the flickering campfires casting eerie shadows across his face.“Did you really think you could sneak in here unnoticed?” he taunted, his voice laced with smug confidence. “Draven has been watching your every move.”Ethan growled low beside me, his body coiled, ready to strike. But I knew we were outmatched. This wasn’t just a fight of strength—it was a battle of wills, one we couldn’t afford to lose. Draven’s second-in-command radiated power, the kind that twisted nature itself. His eyes burned with a sickly green light, something darker than even the forest shadows could contain. Dark magic.I tightened my grip on the blade in my hand, feeling its weight, grounding myself
The fire crackled softly in Morwenna’s hearth, casting long shadows across the walls of her cottage. The air inside was thick with the scent of burning sage, meant to ward off dark forces—though I wasn’t sure if anything could keep the darkness at bay now. Ethan sat at the far end of the room, silent and tense, while Kael leaned against the doorframe, his face still pale from his ordeal. Ava remained unconscious in the next room, her breathing shallow but steady.Morwenna sat across from me, her gnarled hands clasped tightly around a worn leather book. The flicker of the flames danced in her ancient eyes as she spoke, her voice low and filled with the weight of centuries.“This curse,” she began, her tone measured, “was not born from the hatred of enemies or the wrath of gods. It was forged by a witch, a woman scorned by the Silverclaw Pack centuries ago. She was a formidable power in her time, one who sought control over the pack’s strength—believing that their might was something sh
Lysandra’s eyes gleamed with an unsettling confidence as her words hung in the air, suffocating the room with their weight. I could feel the unease ripple through the pack—Kael, Ethan, and even Morwenna stood silent, their mistrust of this stranger palpable. I fought to keep my own anxiety in check, knowing that one wrong decision could doom us all.“You need me,” Lysandra said, her voice like silk as she stepped closer, her pale fingers tracing the edge of the table between us. “Without my guidance, you will never find the third key. And without the key, Silverclaw is lost. Draven will win, and the curse will continue to eat away at this land.”Her words echoed the fears I had been carrying for days. Time was slipping away from us like sand through my fingers, and the weight of every passing moment felt heavier than the last. I stared at her, my instincts warring within me. Lysandra was dangerous, that much was obvious. Her connection to the curse, to the ancient witch who had bound
The moment the voice disappeared, the forest seemed to swallow us whole. The trees loomed taller, their branches curling like twisted fingers, reaching out to snare any who dared venture too far from the path. The dense fog that had been creeping toward us now closed in, thickening the air with a damp chill that seeped into my bones. Every step felt like an eternity, and the silence around us was as loud as a scream.Lysandra moved confidently ahead, her presence like a beacon cutting through the suffocating gloom. But even she wasn’t immune to the forest’s dark magic. Her earlier bravado had faltered, and I caught her stealing glances over her shoulder, her brow furrowed. Whatever we were about to face, it unnerved even her.“This place…” Kael murmured from beside me, his voice tight with tension. “It’s not natural.”“No, it’s not,” I agreed, my eyes scanning the endless stretch of trees. “The forest is alive, feeding on us.”Lysandra slowed her pace, her fingers brushing against the
The eerie silence weighed heavy on my chest as I stepped closer to the ancient tomb. Every instinct screamed at me to stop, to turn back before it was too late, but I couldn’t. We were too deep in now, and the fate of Silverclaw hung in the balance. I could feel the dark energy pulsing through the air, growing stronger the closer I got to the crumbling stone.“This is it,” Lysandra whispered, her eyes locked on the tomb. “The third key.”My hand hovered over the tombstone, the air humming with a low, steady vibration. The earth itself felt alive beneath my feet, as though something beneath the surface was stirring, waiting. The tomb had a presence—an ancient, malevolent energy that wrapped itself around us, making it hard to breathe.“What do you mean, this is the third key?” Kael asked, his voice tense. “Where is it?”Lysandra turned to face us, her expression unreadable. “The third key is more than just an object. It’s an artifact—one that binds the witch’s spirit to the curse. It’s
The full moon hung heavy in the night sky, its silvery light spilling over the ancient trees that surrounded Silverclaw. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I could feel it—the eyes of my pack on me, their unspoken expectations weighing down like a shackle around my soul. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration, a rite of passage, but all I could feel was a cold dread settling in my bones.I stood in the heart of the clearing, surrounded by the towering oaks that had watched over Silverclaw for centuries. The sacred fire crackled before me, its flames licking the air as if desperate to consume the moonlight. I closed my eyes, trying to focus, to calm the racing of my heart. But the visions—those damned visions—kept flickering behind my eyelids, like ghosts refusing to be laid to rest.“Seraphina.” The voice of the town elder, Morwenna, was low and steady, carrying the weight of authority and ancient knowledge. She was
The figure's warning echoed in my mind as I stood rooted to the spot, the chill from the night air seeping into my bones. The clearing was quiet now, the flames of the sacred fire dwindling, leaving only the soft crackle of dying embers. Ava tugged at my arm, her voice full of concern, but I barely registered her words. My thoughts were miles away, lost in the shadows of the prophecy that had begun to unravel before my very eyes.But while I stood paralyzed by fear and uncertainty, across the forest, another mind was at work—one that thrived on the chaos and despair that I feared.Draven Thorn stood on the edge of the Blackwood pack’s territory, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. The moonlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting a silvery glow over the landscape. He breathed in the cool night air, letting it fill his lungs as if drawing strength from the darkness itself. The forest around him was still, yet he could sense the energy coursing through it, a deep, ancient power
The echo of that tortured scream haunted me throughout the night, its sound weaving itself into the fabric of my dreams. When I woke, the cold morning light did nothing to chase away the lingering dread. Sleep had been fleeting and fitful, and my thoughts tangled in the remnants of my vision—of the shadowed figure and the warning it carried. Yet, there was no time to dwell on it. My duties as the heir to the Silverclaw pack demanded my full attention, no matter how unsteady I felt.I met Ethan Hale in the training grounds just as the sun began to peek over the treetops, casting long, golden shadows across the clearing. He was already there, his sword flashing in the morning light as he moved through a series of precise, lethal motions. Ethan had always been the embodiment of strength and discipline, qualities that made him both a fierce warrior and a trusted friend. But today, even his presence, usually so steadying, could not quiet the turmoil in my mind.“Morning, Sera,” he greeted