Page 67 of Fated Wolf's Redemption

And when she speaks, the voice is mine too.

“You’re already inside it.”

I scream.

I bolt upright with a choked gasp; the blanket sliding off me as my hands slam against the stone floor. My heart hammers in my chest like it’s trying to escape. Sweat stings my eyes. My skin burns everywhere Lucas touched me, every place he marked me, like the bond itself is reacting to something deeper—something twisted awake by my blood.

Lucas is beside me in an instant. His arms wrap around my shoulders, one hand going to the bite at my throat like he’s trying to feel if something’s wrong.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Lina,” I whisper. “She’s in my dreams again. But this time it wasn’t her. It was me.”

He freezes. “You saw yourself?”

I nod. “Same marks. Same glyphs. Same gate. But it wasn’t a memory. It was a warning.”

The silence that follows is thick. Pressing. I pull away from him and rise on shaky legs. My body aches, but it’s not the kind that comes from battle. This is something else—deeper. Resonating through bone and blood.

I walk to the edge of the chamber where the last circle of glyphs rings on the floor like a branded crown. My bare feet tingle as they cross the line, and when I kneel, I feel it—heat blooming against my palm as I hover over the outermost sigil.

Lucas joins me, crouching beside me, his hand resting on the back of my neck. “What are you sensing?”

“This glyph,” I whisper. “It shouldn’t be active. Not without a trigger.”

He leans closer, eyes scanning the lines of runes.

“It’s attuned,” I say.

“To what?”

I turn and meet his gaze. “Me.”

His jaw tightens. “Explain.”

I lift my hand, show him my palm. A faint red line glows under the skin—one I didn’t put there. “When she claimed the gate, she carved glyphs into her body. Into her blood. I think she anchored the outer rings to herself. But I don’t think that was the end of it.”

He stands slowly, crossing his arms. “You think she left a backup?”

“I think I am the backup.”

The weight of it hits hard, but it’s not new. It’s just confirmation. Every time the gate pulses, it feels like it’s reaching for me. Not because I’m Windrider. Not because I’m storm-marked. But because I’m both.

And because my father wasn’t trying to destroy Lina’s work—he was trying to stop it from finding me. I stand, blood roaring in my ears. The glyph ring around the chamber pulses once—just once—soft and dull.

Lucas watches me carefully, reading every shift in my posture, every flicker of emotion I try to keep off my face. “Say it,” he says.

I swallow hard. “They built it for me.”

Behind us, the gate thrums. And this time, it feels like it's waiting for permission.

CHAPTER 19

LUCAS

Sophia stands in the center of the glyph ring, her bare feet firmly planted on the earth as if she were a child of the storm itself. The wind whips around her, tousling her hair and tugging at the edges of her garments, but her stance remains unwavering. Her pulse is a steady drumbeat amid the chaos, yet I can sense the effort it takes to maintain such calm amidst the tempest.

A faint luminescence shimmers beneath her skin, barely perceptible at first but steadily intensifying, like the first light of dawn breaking through the night. The gate hums in response to her presence, attuning itself to the unique cadence of her blood, resonating with the echo of Lina’s mark that she bears. A palpable tension crackles and dances in the surrounding air, charging it with energy.

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