Chapter 210

AURORA

A monster steps out from behind the trees, green fire ablaze in his eyes.

“Your choice,” it said, “Comes at a greater cost than you know.”

It then vanished. The tree’s heartbeat is synchronized with my own, and the light that spills out of it pours across the clearing, casting long, wavy shadows against the twisting roots that moved like snakes around its base.

The pulse of its life is weirdly soothing, and yet the air is stretched tight over the threat of a storm.

I take one step closer, and the pendant around my chest stirs weakly. The nearer I am, the heavier my limbs; it’s as if the grove weighed me down. Everything here was so scary, my heart kept beating fast.

Behind me, Dane shifts noiselessly. The sound is soothing, reassuring. His hand brushes closely enough past mine—the slightest flash of comfort.

Then what I saw was a sight to behold. Beautiful.

The light of the heart is hypnotic, an ethereal glow seeming to carry with it the weight of eternity. Yet while looking at it, I feel something deeper, a pull, a connection.

Its energy calls to me, not just offering answers but something more.

Power.

The pendant on my chest hums gently, its cracked surface reflecting the glow of the heart. For one instant, the two lights have combined, and a vision sweeps over me.

I see the grove restored: its roots vital, its silver trees humming with life as their glowing fruit is untainted by corruption. The pack is thriving, with laughter and unity, their voices carrying across the forest.

Then the vision darkens.

I see myself, or what remains of me, tied with the roots of the tree. My essence is absorbed, feeding the grove’s renewal. I’m gone, a shadow in its legacy, my name whispered only in passing.

The vision fades, leaving me trembling.

“Aurora?” Dane’s voice pulls me back. He’s standing close now, his brow furrowed with concern. “What’s wrong? What did you see?”

I hesitated, unable to meet his gaze. “What happens if I restore the grove,” I whisper. “What it will cost.”

“And what will it cost?” he asks, his tone sharp with urgency.

“Me,” I say simply.

Dane’s jaw tightens, his expression shifting from concern to something fiercer. He steps in front of me, his body a barrier between me and the heart.

“Then you’re not doing it,” he says firmly.

“Dane.”

“If someone has to make a sacrifice,” he interrupts, his voice unyielding, “it’ll be me.”

I grab his arm, shaking my head. “You can’t. The grove will only accept someone of Kael’s bloodline.”

“I don’t care what it wants,” he snarls. “You’ve done enough, Aurora. More than enough.”

Before I can say a word, Lirien appears, its dark form dancing flame in the wind.

“The grove is bound to Kael,” it says, the sound of its voice even, but weighted. “Only his heir may heal it. The choice is hers and hers alone.”

The glare Dane shoots Lirien is palpable. “She’s more than a bloodline,” he growls.

“And yet, it is her blood which binds her to this place,” Lirien returns unruffled. "This is her burden to bear.”

I take another step forward and lay my hand on Dane’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” I say softly, but the words ring a little false.

“No, it’s not,” he says, his voice cracking. “This isn’t fair, Aurora. You’ve given so much already.”

I hold his gaze, the sting of unshed tears in my eyes. “It is not about fair,” I reply. “It is about right.”

The heartbeat pulsates once more, a little stronger now. The whispers rise, hushed and urgent, calling me nearer to it.

Ancient voices, ancestors speaking words to guide and warn me.

“Restore what is lost.”

“Behold, little one.”

...and then engulfs me in a cocoon of pure brilliance.

Its surface bucks hard in a weird motion as my fingers make contact.

When my sight clears, the mist no longer hides a figure standing at the edge of the glade.

I catch my breath.

The figure draws closer, features now well defined.

A large werewolf, completely black as the midnight sky, his golden eyes afire with a very familiar fire.

Kael.

His ghostly form radiates power, so commanding, yet so sorrowful. His eyes meet mine, and for that one moment in time, it ceases to move within the glade.

“You don’t have to do this, child,” he says in that deep, masculine voice. “Let me finish what I started.”

I look at Kael, and my mind spins. His presence overwhelms me, both strong and sad, filled, it seems.

The light from the heart reflects off his ghostly form, making him more real than any memory should be.

He nods, his eyes, like disks of gold, cut into mine.

“I am what remains of him,” he says, and the regret drips from the tone of his voice. “Bound to the grove by my failures.”

Dane takes a step closer, all his tension conveyed in his body language. “If you could, why didn’t you? Why wait until now?”

Kael turns to him, his face expressionless. “I tried,” he says simply. “But my sacrifice was incomplete. My ambition poisoned this place, and I could not undo the damage.”

His gaze returns to me, softer now. “But you, Aurora, carry what I could not. You have the strength to finish what I began.”

My hands clench at my sides, the war inside me raging.

“And what happens if I do?” I ask, my voice shaking.

“You will become one with the grove,” Kael answers, his tone even. “Your essence will restore its balance, but your mortal life will end.”

Kael shakes his head, his gold eyes shining with sadness. “There is no other way. The grove has waited too long. It must be restored now, or it will fall.”

The roots around the heart begin to pulse more wildly, in jerky motions. The darkness within the clearing deepens further, and the weight of energy from the grove presses heavier against us.

Kael steps closer, his towering form casting a long shadow over me.

“The choice is yours, child,” he says, and his voice, though soft, is commanding. “But know this, the grove will not forgive hesitation.”