Chapter 221 TRAJAN

The forest closed in around us, the mist curling like living tendrils through the ancient trees. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of damp earth and something sharper, darker. It clung to my skin, making each breath feel like a struggle.

Aurora walked ahead of me, her shoulders squared, her pendant pulsing faintly against her chest. The grove’s faint glow shone in the distance, its light barely cutting through the suffocating fog.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked, my voice low but steady.

She glanced back, her eyes hard. “We don’t have a choice, Trajan. If we don’t stop Idris now, everything we’ve fought for will mean nothing.”

I nodded, gripping the hilt of my blade tightly. The weight of her words sat heavily on my shoulders.

When we reached the clearing, Idris was already waiting. He stood at the center, his tall frame silhouetted by the eerie green light that pulsed through the mist. The Forgotten formed a loose circle around him, their eyes glowing faintly, their presence an oppressive force that seemed to press against my chest.

“You cannot stop us,” Idris sneered, his voice cutting through the stillness. “The grove belongs to us. It always has.”

Aurora stepped forward, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. “The grove belongs to no one,” she said firmly. “It’s time for this to end.”

Idris chuckled, a low, cold sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “You think you can stand against us? You’re just a shadow of Kael’s bloodline, clinging to a legacy you don’t understand.”

Aurora didn’t flinch. Instead, she reached for her pendant, her fingers wrapping around it tightly. The faint glow intensified, spilling light into the clearing. The air seemed to shift, the mist recoiling slightly as if afraid of the energy emanating from her. With a deep breath, she raised her hand, and the pendant’s light expanded, forming a shielding barrier between us and the Forgotten.

The barrier pulsed with a rhythmic energy, like a heartbeat, its light pushing back the oppressive darkness. The Forgotten hissed, their forms flickering as they stepped away from its edge.

Idris’s smile faltered, but his eyes burned brighter. “You think this will save you?” he snarled, stepping closer to the barrier.

Aurora’s voice remained steady. “It’s not about saving us. It’s about saving the grove.”

While Aurora held the barrier, I stepped forward, my heart pounding. My grip on the blade tightened as I faced Idris directly.

“You’ve already lost,” I said, my voice louder than I expected. “Look around you. This… this cycle of vengeance ends here.”

Idris’s eyes narrowed, his expression twisting into a snarl. “You know nothing of what we’ve suffered,” he spat.

“You’re right,” I said, my tone softer. “I don’t. But I know that clinging to pain and anger won’t bring you peace. It won’t undo what’s been done.”

For a moment, something shifted in his gaze. The anger didn’t disappear, but it wavered, like a flame caught in a sudden gust of wind.

Behind me, the grove began to glow brighter, its light cutting through the mist. The energy rippling from the barrier seemed to resonate with the grove, the two forces combining into a single, radiant pulse. The light grew so intense that I had to shield my eyes. When I lowered my arm, the mist was dissolving, retreating like darkness before dawn. The Forgotten staggered, their forms flickering as if struggling to stay solid. Idris turned to the grove, his expression a mix of fury and desperation.

Aurora rushed toward the grove and placed her hand on the heart. She moved her lips as she closed her eyes, her other hand on her pendant, and it started to glow. The grove’s light became so bright, I had to squint. It was affecting the Forgotten, as they broke their hand chain and fell on their knees. They held their chests, groaning in pain.

“What is Aurora doing?” I asked out loud.

“Stop that!” Idris growled as he staggered back, he gritted his teeth, and his nostrils flared as he tried to hide his pain, but I could sense it.

I don’t know what Aurora was doing, but it was working.

“Aurora?” Dane called, and I looked at her to see her on her knees. “She is giving her energy to the Grove, to help it fight against the Forgotten… and that could…”

“Kill her,” I shouted, and I rushed to Aurora, “Luna, please…”

A loud growl cut me off, and I turned to see the mist had disappeared, and so were the Forgotten and Idris.

Aurora slumped to the ground, and before I could get to her, Dane already reached her. He shielded her head as he sat on the ground next to her.

My gaze darted toward the grove. The faint glow remained, but it was different now, calmer, more subdued.

Aurora stirred in his arms, her breathing shallow but steady. “The grove…” she murmured.

“It’s safe,” I said, though the unease in my chest told me this wasn’t the end.

We stayed there for a moment, the silence of the forest settling around us. But even as the light of the grove brought a sense of peace, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Idris’s words were more than just a threat.

Dane’s eyes stayed on mine, searching for something – reassurance, maybe, or an explanation I didn’t have.

The faint glow of the grove cast long, soft shadows across the ground, its once vibrant energy now subdued, almost shy.

Aurora stirred again as I touched her hand to check her pulse, her fingers weakly curling against my arm. “It’s… quiet,” she whispered, her voice a thread of sound.

“It is,” I replied, though the stillness didn’t feel like peace. It felt like a heavy pause before a storm.

Dane’s brow furrowed. “We need to get her back to the packhouse,” he said. “She needs rest.”

“I will carry her.” Dane was about to protest, then I continued, “You should be on guard.”

He nodded, and I took her into my arms, shifting her weight carefully. She felt lighter than she should have, like the event had taken a lot from her.

As I stood, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. My head snapped toward the grove, but there was nothing there.

“Did you see that?” I asked, my voice low.

Dane followed my gaze, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his blade. “See what?”

I hesitated, scanning the grove’s edge. The darkness seemed deeper now, darker in a way that didn’t make sense with the soft light around us.

“I thought… never mind,” I said, though the unease in my chest grew heavier.

We started back toward the packhouse, the forest unnervingly silent. Even the usual nighttime sounds, crickets, rustling leaves, were absent. The only sound was Aurora’s soft breathing and the crunch of our footsteps against the damp earth.

Dane walked ahead, his shoulders tense, his hand never leaving his blade. “We need answers,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.

I glanced back at the grove one last time, its faint glow barely visible through the trees. The wind shifted, carrying with it a whisper so faint I almost missed it.

“This isn’t over,” it said, the words curling in the back of my mind like smoke.

When we reached the packhouse, the tension inside was palpable, werewolves clustered in groups, their eyes darting toward the windows as though expecting the fog to return at any moment.

Warrick was the first to approach, his usual grin replaced with a worried scowl. “What happened?” he asked, his gaze flicking to Aurora.

“She pushed too hard,” Dane said, his tone clipped. “But the grove’s safe. For now.”

Warrick nodded, though the unease in his expression didn’t fade. “And Idris?”

“Gone,” I said, lowering Aurora onto a nearby couch. “But he made it clear this isn’t the end.”

The room fell silent, the weight of my words settling over everyone.

Aurora’s breathing grew steadier, her face relaxing as if the grove’s energy was finally letting her rest. But as I looked at her, I couldn’t shake the image of Idris’s blazing eyes, his voice still echoing in my mind.

The faint whisper returned once more: “Only the beginning…”