The moment we left the Hollow, I felt it—like a breath held too long. The forest around us no longer whispered; it screamed.
Every root, every breeze, every twitch of a bird's wings warned of what was coming. Malric knew where I was. He wasn't hiding anymore.
We were being hunted.
Kane's fingers brushed against mine as we descended through the thick underbrush. His shoulder was bandaged beneath his torn shirt, but he never slowed down. Never looked back.
"He's moving faster than we thought," Kane muttered. "He has eyes in the trees. We need to get to the cliffs. The pack can rally there."
"Rally?" I repeated, my voice hoarse. "We're going to fight him?"
"Eventually." His voice was grim. "But not today. Not until we know how to control what's inside you."
I glanced down at my hands. They looked normal now—human, steady—but I knew the fire was still there. Sleeping, maybe. Or waiting.
The way it had surged in the clearing... it hadn't just been rage. It had been fear. Loss. Power I didn't understand—but it understood me.
"I'm not sure I can control it," I said, stepping over a fallen branch.
"You can. Because it's yours. Not Malric's. Not even your mother's. Yours."
I wanted to believe him. But when we emerged into the meadow just beyond the cliffs, I saw the truth in Kane's eyes—he was worried. More than he let on.
Three of our scouts waited in the clearing, bloodied and panting. One of them, Lira, dropped to one knee as we approached.
"They've reached the border," she said. "Twenty or more. Twisted. Fast. They don't even move like wolves anymore."
I swallowed hard. "How long?"
"A few hours. Less if they pick up your scent."
Kane looked at me. "You need to go to the ruins. The old Moonveil circle. There are markings there—runes that might show you how to center the power. I'll cover your path with the others."
"No." I stepped forward, heart pounding. "I'm not running again. I just found the truth, Kane. I'm not leaving you behind now."
His jaw clenched. "If Malric gets his hands on you—"
"Then don't let him." I lifted my chin. "I'm not a helpless girl anymore. And I'm not just some prophecy. I'm Elara. Daughter of Celyra. I've bled. I've burned. I've watched people I care about fall because of that monster. I will not hide."
There was a long silence.
Then, Kane smiled. Barely. But it was there.
"Then we fight smarter."
We split into three groups.
Lira and the scouts would take the eastern trail, laying false scents. Kane would circle north with a defensive line—buying us time. And I... I would go to the Moonveil ruins, accompanied by the one wolf who didn't treat me like a weapon.
Talon.
"You sure you're ready for this?" he asked as we sprinted between mossy stones and winding roots. "If not, say the word. I'll drag you back myself."
"I'm ready," I said, breath sharp. "And if you try to drag me, I'll break your nose."
He laughed. "There she is."
We reached the ruins just before moonrise.
The Moonveil circle wasn't like the Hollow. This place pulsed with old magic. Carved stones stood in a ring, etched with runes that glowed faintly under the moonlight. My blood hummed the moment I stepped inside the circle.
Talon stayed at the edge, arms crossed. "Take your time."
I knelt at the center stone. My fingers hovered over the markings. Symbols danced beneath my touch, reacting—not to movement, but to my blood.
I bit my thumb gently, let a drop fall onto the stone.
A blaze of silver light burst outward.
The runes rose into the air, swirling, wrapping around me in a sphere of glowing script. My heart thundered. My head spun.
Then I saw her.
Celyra. My mother. But not a memory—something more. A projection of her essence.
"You've grown strong, my Elara," she whispered. "But strength is not enough. You must understand it."
I opened my mouth to speak, but the magic pulled the words from me, dragged me deeper into the vision.
I stood in a battlefield.
The Gate behind me. Malric in front of me. The sky was split open, the earth fractured by claw and spell. And in the center of it all—me. Radiating light. Consumed by fire.
But my eyes weren't mine.
They were silver. Hollow. Empty.
I snapped back, gasping.
The vision vanished. The runes fell. The stone dimmed.
Talon rushed to me, grabbing my shoulders. "What did you see?"
"Me," I choked out. "But twisted. Consumed. I think... I think if I open the Gate, I don't just unlock it. I become it."
Talon's face darkened. "That's what Malric wants. Not just your power. You. Your soul."
A branch snapped in the woods behind us.
We both turned.
And there he was.
Malric.
In the flesh.
Black cloak flowing like smoke. Eyes red like embers.
"Hello, daughter of Celyra," he purred, voice silk over steel. "We meet at last."
I stepped forward. "You're not touching me."
"No," he said, grinning. "But you'll come to me. Soon enough."
Before I could move, he raised a hand. A bolt of shadow exploded from his palm, hitting the runes and scattering them like dust.
The circle broke.
And the hunt truly began.