Chapter 220
Aurora and Dane burst through the door moments later, their faces somber. The room fell silent as, like moths around a flame, the pack turned to them.
“They are coming here,” Aurora said, her voice hopeful, even though the tension in her shoulders betrayed her. “The Forgotten are pushing up their plans. We don’t have a lot of time.”
Dane stepped forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. “That beacon at the grove was a warning. They’re coming for us, and they won’t wait.”
Murmurs ran through the crowd, a thread of fear weaving through it.
The pack scrambled into action, preparing defenses. Werewolves reinforced the doors and windows, while others gathered weapons.
I took charge of organizing patrols, trying to keep order as my voice cut above the cacophony of noise.
“Stick together,” I told them, my voice sharper than I meant. “The fog is messing with our senses. Whatever happens, don’t go anywhere alone.”
It was hard not to be afraid, myself. The fog seemed to writhe and twist, its whispers threading through the air to tug at memories buried deep.
By midday, the tension had reached a breaking point. Callen, still under the Forgotten’s influence, stood in the middle of the room, his glowing eyes scanning the pack.
“This is her fault,” he said coldly, pointing at Aurora.
Aurora froze, her gaze locking onto him. “What are you talking about?”
“You brought this on us,” he accused, his voice rising. “Your decisions have doomed us all. The grove, the curse, it’s all because of you.”
His words hit like a blow, the weight of them stirring unease among the pack. Whispers rose, werewolves exchanging uncertain glances.
“That’s enough,” Dane said, stepping between Callen and Aurora. “You’re not helping.”
Callen smirked, his glowing eyes narrowing. “The truth hurts, doesn’t it, Alpha?”
The tension boiled over as pack members began turning on each other, their fears amplified by the Forgotten’s magic. Arguments broke out, the air crackling with distrust.
I elbowed my way to the heart of the commotion, my voice raised. “Stop it!” I yelled above the din, and the room fell silent.
“This is what they want… us turning on each other instead of them. We’re better than this!”
The pack paused. The anger hadn’t dissipated, just simmered. I turned back to Aurora, frozen, her expression blank.
“Aurora,” I said, my voice softer now. “We need you.”
She blinked then, like surfacing from some misty place inside. “You’re right,” she said, her voice growing firmer again. “We can’t fall to pieces now.”
Night had fallen when the pack gathered for a final meeting. Flickers from the fire danced in long darkness across the room; the air was thick with doubt.
Aurora stood at the head of the table, her hands clenching at its edges. “We don’t have any option,” she said, undeviating in her voice. “I will appeal directly to Idris. It is our only hope for more time."
Dane shot up, tightening his jaw. “You don’t go in alone. I’m going with you.”
Before she could say anything, Trajan pushed forward. “No,” he said, his voice firm. “This is my burden to bear.”
Aurora frowns, her eyes seeking his. “Trajan, you don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do,” he says, leaving no room for debate. “The bloodline of Kael is mine. If anyone has to face him, it’s me.”
The room became silent, as if the weight of his words was settling upon us.
Aurora nods reluctantly, touching his shoulder. “We will face him together.”
The moment felt too heavy to interrupt, but Callen’s body jerks, his glowing eyes brighter than before. His voice changes to cold and mocking.
“You are already too late, Luna,” Idris spoke through Callen, “The grove will be ours by dawn.”
The air seemed to stand still, every wolf frozen in place as the words sunk in.
The room froze. Aurora stiffened, her hand reaching for her pendant, but the glow had disappeared. Trajan moves closer to Callen, his steps hesitating, his face pale.
“What do you mean?” he demanded.
Callen didn’t say a word. His body sagged again, loose and still.
“Is he…?” I started, my voice shaking.
Aurora knelt beside him, her fingers tracing his neck. “He’s alive,” she whispered.
Lirien stepped closer, its dark form fluttering in the firelight. “The prophecy is in full sway. Prepare yourselves.”
Something in those words cut to my heart. I turned toward the others, their faces pale, their eyes darting apprehensively toward the windows.
Now, the green flashes within the mist seemed closer, illuminating the trees in short, eerie flashes.
“We need a plan,” Dane said, breaking the silence. Standing tall, he was grounding, but not even he could mask the unease in his eyes.
Aurora rose, slow, her gaze holding on Callen. “We don’t have the luxury of time. The Forgotten will arrive by dawn if Idris spoke the truth.”
“We can’t do a full attack,” Warrick interjected. “This fog is messing with our senses. We can’t even tell how many there are.”
“Then we make them come to us,” Dane said. His voice was firm. “We set traps. We force them into positions where their numbers aren’t going to matter.”
Aurora frowned. “And what if that doesn’t work? What if they overpower us before we even get a chance to fight back?”
“We don’t have a choice,” I said, the steadiness of my voice surprising even me. “If we wait, they’ll have the advantage. At least this way, we control the battlefield.”
The pack erupted into murmurs; fear and uncertainty rippled through the room. I caught Aurora’s eye, a look half determination, half doubt.
“Piper’s right,” she finally said, her voice cutting through the noise. “We have to act now. If we wait, we lose everything.”
Dane nodded, already heading for the table where a crude map of the territory lay spread out.
“We’ll set up traps along the main paths leading to the packhouse. Warrick, you and Piper take the northern route. I’ll handle the eastern side.”
“And the grove?” Trajan asked, his voice heavy.
Aurora hesitated, her fingers brushing her pendant. “The grove is their end goal. We have to protect it no matter what.” She looked at Trajan, her eyes softening. “That’s where you and I will go.”
The pack divided into teams, the weight of what lay ahead pressed upon my chest. We moved swiftly, gathering supplies and weapons, our movements quick but not rushed.
The air hummed with tension, each of us too intent to say more than we had to.
The moment I stepped outside with Warrick, the chill of night hit me like a brick wall. The fog was thicker now, tendrils moved ominously around the trunks of trees.
“It’s not going to feel real, is it?” Warrick muttered… the first time I’d ever heard him without his joking tone.
“It’s real,” I said, tightening my grip on the blade a fraction. “And we’re going to face it.”
We moved in silence, setting traps along the northern route. The mist seemed to watch us, its whispers growing louder the deeper we went into the forest.
I kept my senses high, my ears straining for any sound beyond the unnatural hum of the fog.
When we finished, Warrick and I were hanging back near the edge of the trees, gazes fixed on the glowing green flashes across the way.
“They’re closer than we thought,” he said, low.
I nodded. It wasn’t news, and the sensation in my chest grew heavier. “Let’s get out of here.”
By the time we made our way back to the packhouse, the others were already gathered, their faces taut. Aurora and Trajan were near the door, and neither of them was smiling.
“We leave now,” Aurora said, the calmness of her voice hiding the fear I knew sparkled in her eyes.
Dane stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over all of us. “Stay sharp. Stay together. And remember, they’ll try to turn your fears against you. Don’t let them.”
As Aurora and Trajan headed into the grove, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were walking into something far worse than any of us were prepared for.
The fog crowded in closer, its tendrils curving against the windows as if testing the boundaries of our defenses. The packhouse was colder, darker, and the whispers outside grew louder, more insistent.
“The prophecy is unfolding,” Lirien had said. But what did that really mean?
And what would it cost us to stop it?