The sound of the bloodhound's growl echoed through the tunnel like thunder rolling through stone. It wasn't just a sound—it was a presence. Heavy. Ancient. Wrong.
Raine's pulse thundered in her ears as Xavier pulled her deeper into the cave. The glowing stones on the walls dimmed, reacting to the hunter's approach, and shadows stretched unnaturally across the path.
They ducked through a tight crevice, emerging into a cavern that breathed like a living thing. Cool mist hugged the ground, and old glyphs pulsed faintly on the walls, etched in what looked like silver veins.
"We shouldn't be here," Xavier muttered.
Raine's breath caught. "Then why are we?"
"Because the surface isn't safe anymore," he said, glancing back. "But even down here, there are… old things. Things that never forgot the Lunaris name."
The howling stopped.
A silence fell so heavy Raine could feel it pressing on her skin.
"They've lost the trail," Xavier said. "For now."
Raine exhaled in relief, but only for a second. The silence wasn't peace. It was the pause before a storm.
They reached a chamber where stone columns twisted toward the ceiling like petrified trees. In the center stood a cracked altar, stained with something too dark to be dust.
Raine shivered. "What is this place?"
Xavier stepped toward the altar and touched one of the symbols. "This was a sanctuary. Then a prison. Then a tomb."
His tone made her throat dry. "A tomb for what?"
"For a wolf that turned against the Council. A Lunaris Alpha." He looked at her, the glow from the stones casting shadows across his jaw. "Your blood may be the last of her line."
Raine backed away from the altar. "Why didn't you tell me all this before?"
"I didn't think we'd make it this far," he said quietly. "But now there's no turning back."
Raine turned away from him, from the altar, from everything that was pulling her deeper into a world she didn't ask for. She touched the wall, and one of the glyphs flared to life beneath her palm.
The entire cave rumbled.
"Raine—don't move!" Xavier shouted.
But it was too late.
The wall behind the altar groaned and split open with a crack of ancient stone. Cold air poured out, smelling of iron and forgotten power. Raine staggered back as whispers flooded her mind—voices she couldn't understand, speaking in a tongue older than time.
Then came a word she did understand. Spoken in a dozen voices.
"Daughter."
Raine froze.
"What did it say?" Xavier asked, eyes glowing fiercely now.
"It called me daughter," she whispered.
Before Xavier could speak, the bloodhound howled again—closer.
Too close.
"Move," he growled. "Now."
They turned and fled into the newly opened tunnel, Xavier leading the way. The air inside was colder, sharper. The light behind them dimmed until they were swallowed by darkness, guided only by the faint pulse of glyphs beneath their feet.
"Xavier," Raine whispered, "what if this is a trap?"
"It is," he said grimly. "But it's the only one we might survive."
Behind them, claws scraped stone. A roar—not a howl this time, but something that sounded half-beast, half-human—ripped through the passage.
Raine stumbled, and Xavier caught her again. "I've got you," he said. "I'll always have you."
They reached a chamber with a pool in the center. The water shimmered like liquid moonlight. The glyphs on the walls blazed, illuminating the room.
And Raine saw it—etched into the wall behind the pool.
A mural.
A Lunaris Alpha, silver-eyed, cloaked in flame, standing beside a man with Xavier's face.
"What—what is this?" she breathed.
Xavier stared, stunned. "That's not possible."
The painting was old. Centuries at least.
"Have we met before?" she asked softly.
He didn't answer. Couldn't.
Because he didn't know if this was fate, or a cycle they had been caught in for lifetimes.
Before they could speak again, the water in the pool churned. A form began to rise—shadows dripping from its limbs, a wolf-shaped creature with eyes like burning coal.
Xavier stepped in front of Raine.
"It's not the bloodhound," he said.
"Then what is it?"
"A guardian."
The creature snarled but did not attack. Instead, it lowered its head, then growled a word—raw and distorted.
"Prove."
Raine's voice shook. "Prove what?"
"Your right to be here," Xavier said. "Your right to awaken what's buried in your blood."
"How?"
The creature turned its gaze on Xavier. Then on Raine.
"Face the moon. Bleed. Bind."
Raine looked at Xavier. "I don't understand."
"You will," he said. "But first, we survive the night."
Behind them, the bloodhound roared again.
The trial had just begun