Page 61 of Fated Wolf's Redemption

I nod.

He brushes his fingers down my spine, slow, firm, calming. “Then we find the next place she’ll stand. And we end this. We end her… them… whatever it is she’s awakened.”

I rise to my feet, feeling a tremor of determination coursing through me, and turn to face him. The gate's heartbeat pulses within my chest now, synchronized with my own in an unsettling harmony, like a mockery of my resolve. Lucas sees it all—the tremble in my hands, the shaky rhythm of my breathing that betrays my fear.

His gaze locks onto mine, intense and unwavering. "Tell me what you need," he says, his voice a steady anchor amidst the chaos.

I pause, uncertainty gripping me for a moment, before stepping into him, pressing my trembling hands firmly against his chest. "I need to believe we can stop this," I confess, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Do you believe in me?" he asks, his words a lifeline.

"Always," I reply without hesitation.

His hand gently finds its way to my jaw, tilting my face upward so our eyes meet. "Then we stop it," he assures me, conviction resonating in his voice.

The room shifts around us once more, another quake rolling through the ground beneath our feet, deeper and more menacing this time. Dust cascades from the ceiling like a finerain, and the glyphs etched into the walls blaze to life, their light so intense it stings the eyes.

We’ve been detected. Not by guards or by Lina, but by the gate itself—an ancient and watchful presence. Lucas draws his blade with a determined flourish. "We need to go," he urges.

I nod, my fingers clenching tightly around the edge of my coat, steeling myself for what lies ahead. "We find the anchor. And then we break it," I declare, determination hardening my voice.

But as we step back into the dimly lit corridor, the heartbeat falters briefly, then quickens its pace with renewed vigor. For the first time, I hear something within it—a sound that resembles a voice, yet not quite. It's not a word, but a breath, a knowing presence that chills me to the core. It knows I’m here, and it’s waiting.

CHAPTER 17

LUCAS

Idon’t wait for the glyphs to finish lighting the walls. “Fall back!” I bark, my voice echoing through the corridor.

Sophia’s already turning, her hand gripping the blade at her thigh, eyes scanning for the others. Max and Kylie appear around the bend just as another pulse rolls off the dais—a deeper one, louder than the rest. The air folds in on itself, heat slamming into us in a rush that carries more than just sound—it carries pressure, lots of it.

I grab Sophia’s arm and shove her behind me just as the shockwave hits.

The sound is a thunderclap wrapped in fury. The walls scream. Stone cracks. Glyphs stutter and collapse inward. Light bends sideways, drawn toward the windglass in the center of the gate as if gravity’s forgotten where it belongs. My ears ring, and I hit the floor hard, skidding back into the curve of the hall.

One of the Nightshade scouts—a young male barely old enough to carry a blade—cries out. I look up just in time to see the ceiling drop. A jagged spire of stone spears through his torso, pinning him like a hunted animal to the glyph-washed wall. He doesn’t scream again.

Sophia shouts something, but the roar is too loud. I crawl back to her, grabbing her shoulder and dragging her with me toward cover, her feet scrambling to keep pace. Max and Kylie follow, close and silent, weapons drawn. Oscar follows.

Another sound joins the chaos. Lower. Slower. Like breath echoing inside a coffin made of steel.

The windglass is no longer just glowing. It’s stretching.

I turn, teeth bared, ready for anything. But what I see… it doesn’t belong in this world.

The center of the gate warps. A slick bulge pushes outward, the windglass rippling like fluid held behind something too fragile to contain it. Lines crack across its surface. Black veins of power curl through it. The ancient stone frame groans under the strain.

And then I hear it… the call.

Not a whisper this time. Not even a command. It’s a summons—a violent pull that wraps around my ribcage and yanks. My knees go weak. My wolf surges to the surface, no longer confused. No longer fighting.

“Answer. Come to me. Open.”

Pain lances through my skull. I drop to one knee, biting back the sound clawing up my throat. I can’t hold it. I can’t hold him.

The storm that’s lived under my skin since Cain’s lab. I don’t break. I become.

The change isn’t violent. It isn’t beautiful. It’s absolute. My body moves without hesitation, muscle and energy folding inward and then outward. There’s no tearing, no snapping, no time to scream. Just silence. Mist rises from the ground and then floods from every pore—silver and dark, swirling like storm clouds in fast forward.

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