“Please,” I whispered, my voice trembling. But he said nothing, his eyes fixed ahead, a cruel determination in his gaze.
We reached a clearing, and there in the center was a pyre. My stomach twisted in fear as Marcosias shoved me forward, his grip never loosening. "Lie down," he commanded, his voice cold and unfeeling.
I shook my head, stepping back, but he yanked me closer, his knife grazing my neck. “Do it!” he snarled.
Tears blurred my vision as I obeyed, lying down on the wooden structure, the rough surface digging into my back. I couldn’t stop shaking, my heart racing, as I looked up at the dark sky.
Out of the shadows, a figure appeared—an old, hunched woman with wild, tangled hair and eyes that glowed in the darkness.
“It’s too early, Marcosias. The ritual won’t work—she’s only taken the potion once.” Her voice was low and raspy.
Marcosias snarled, stepping toward her, still holding the blade close to me. “I don’t care! You told me that I needed to sacrifice a pregnant seer for the ritual! Find a way to make it work, or I’ll slit your throat right here!” His voice was filled with rage, and I could feel his anger like a wave crashing over me.
The witch flinched but quickly recovered, nodding in fear. “There’s … another way,” she murmured, pulling out a small dagger. She knelt beside me and grabbed my hand, forcing my palm upward. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, but there was no kindness in her voice.
I gasped as the blade sliced across my palm, the pain sharp and immediate. Blood welled up, and the witch quickly pressed a cup to my hand, catching the dripping blood. I winced, clenching my teeth against the pain, praying to anyone who would listen. “Please, Orion,” I whispered under my breath, my eyes squeezing shut. “Find me.”
The witch began chanting, the words dark and unfamiliar. The air around me grew thick with an oppressive energy, and my pulse quickened. I could feel the magic swirling, wrapping around me like a noose. Tears streamed down my face as I silently prayed for this nightmare to end.
Suddenly, a howl pierced the night air. My eyes snapped open just in time to see a figure burst through the trees—Orion.
Relief flooded my chest as I saw him, but it was short-lived.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Marcosias growled loudly in fury, as he transformed into a wolf—a massive, hulking beast. His fur was black as night, and his eyes burned with murderous rage.
Orion didn’t hesitate. He shifted in an instant, his own powerful wolf form emerging—larger than I’d ever seen him, his silver fur gleaming under the moonlight. The two of them collided in a violent clash of teeth and claws, their growls filling the air as they tore into each other.
The sound of bones snapping, and snarls, echoed in the clearing as they fought, their movements a blur of fury. But it wasn’tjust them. Marcosias’ clan had arrived. Wolves spilled into the clearing, attacking from every direction.
“No!” I screamed, as chaos erupted around me, the witch’s ritual forgotten, as Orion’s pack stormed the battlefield.
Wolves crashed into each other, claws ripping through flesh, jaws snapping with deadly force. I could barely make sense of it all—the growls, the blood, the fury—it was overwhelming. But through it all, I kept my eyes on Orion, praying that he would win.
"Please, Orion," I whispered again, clutching my bleeding hand to my chest. "Don't let him win. Don't let him take me."
“It’s time to finally end you!” Marcosias growled as he stabbed Orion with his claws.
“Orion!” I screamed as I watched Orion losing his strength.
A glow suddenly erupted from the bag that was hung around Orion.
My breath hitched as the vision took over, pulling me into its depths. I saw flashes—rapid, intense images—too quick to make sense of at first. But then, everything became clear.
I stood in a vast, empty space, the artifact glowing in my hands, pulsing with power. Suddenly, blood—my blood—dripped from my palm and touched the surface of the artifact. It glowed brighter, humming with life. Then, I saw Orion—his face strong, determined. Blood from his hand joined mine, and the artifact reacted, its power surging. Our blood mixed together, intertwining, as the artifact blazed with an intense light. I felt it then—strength. Unimaginable strength flowing into both of us, fusing us, making us invincible.
The vision ended, and I was thrust back into reality.
The battle raged on, a blur of fur and blood as Orion and Marcosias tore into each other. My heart pounded—I knew what I had to do. The artifact was the key, and both of our bloods needed to touch it for us to defeat Marcosias.
I spotted the pouch on Orion, swinging wildly as he fought. Taking a deep breath, I darted forward, my hands shaking as I grabbed the artifact. Just as I pulled it free, Marcosias roared, knocking Orion to the ground.
I placed my palm covered with blood on the glowing artifact.
“Now how do I get Orion’s blood on it?” I whispered.
Marcosias was relentless, slashing at him with deadly force. I gripped the artifact tightly in my hand, knowing what I had to do.
“Orion!” I shouted over the snarls and growls. His wolf eyes flicked toward me for a split second. Without hesitating, I hurled the artifact toward him.