Kael refused to rest. He stood atop the fortress ramparts at dawn, eyes scanning the horizon as if sheer will could pull her back into his arms. His Beta pleaded with him to sleep, Nyla begged him to eat—but he would do neither.
"She's alive," he said simply. "I would feel it if she weren't."
No one questioned him. The bond between fated wolves was legendary—rare, sacred, and powerful. If Aria still breathed, Kael would know it. And if she was suffering, that agony now bled into his soul like venom.
For days, he followed the trail she had left behind. Faint magic signatures, broken branches, claw marks scorched into the forest floor. Nyla and Lyra rode beside him, their concern growing with every mile.
"Why would she go so far alone?" Lyra murmured.
"To protect us," Nyla said quietly. "That's what she's always done."
"But from what?" Kael demanded, jaw clenched. "What was out there that made her run instead of fight beside us?"
They descended into a hollow where the trees had blackened, and the earth reeked of sulfur. A scorched battlefield lay ahead—bodies of demon wolves, twisted and charred, their blood still steaming. Kael leapt from his horse and ran, his eyes wild.
At the center of the clearing was a shredded piece of Aria's cloak. He dropped to his knees beside it, fingers trembling. A residual magic pulse lingered in the fabric. He closed his eyes and felt it.
The vision struck like lightning:
Aria, bloodied, breathing hard, fighting five wolves at once. Her hands glowed red. She shouted something—unheard—but the agony in her face said everything. Then a pulse of white light exploded from her chest.
Darkness swallowed her.
Kael staggered back. "She didn't fall. She was taken."
They returned to the fortress at nightfall. Raekon was waiting.
"She's not on this plane anymore," he said.
Kael narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"She's been drawn into the Forsaken Veil—the prison between dimensions, ruled by the Whisperer."
Silence fell.
"That place is more myth than map," Nyla muttered.
"It's real," Raekon said grimly. "And she's trapped inside it."
---
In the days that followed, Kael barely slept. He studied scrolls with Raekon, interrogated scouts, demanded every lead be followed. Lyra's attempt to lighten the mood failed.
"If she left to protect us, why would she leave him a letter?" she said.
"Because she never stopped loving him," Nyla answered.
Kael said nothing. He couldn't. The words of her letter haunted him:
I never betrayed you.
He had doubted her. Questioned her loyalty. Accused her of treason. And in doing so, he had broken the one thing that tethered her to this world: trust.
Now, he would tear realms apart to earn it back.
---
Raekon devised a ritual. "We need blood of her blood," he said. "Someone with her lineage."
"Her family is dead," Kael growled.
"Not all," Nyla said darkly. "Celene."
Kael's eyes lit with cold fury. "She'd never help us."
"She will," Nyla replied, "if I make her."
---
Celene Vale was imprisoned in the lowest dungeon. Her magic had been bound after she tried to poison Aria months ago. When Nyla entered, Celene didn't even glance up.
"Come to gloat?" she asked.
"No," Nyla said. "I came for your blood."
That got her attention.
"What in the moon's cursed name are you talking about?"
Nyla slammed the ritual dagger down. "Your sister is trapped in the Forsaken Veil. You're going to help bring her back."
Celene laughed. "You think I'd bleed for that witch?"
"You'll do it," Kael said from behind her, voice like winter steel. "Or I'll drain you myself."
Celene met his gaze and faltered. She had always feared him, but this Kael—half-feral, burning with wrath—terrified her.
"Fine," she hissed. "Take it. But don't expect me to cry when she dies."
---
The ritual began under a blood moon. Raekon etched runes into stone while Celene's blood boiled in a silver bowl. Lightning danced across the sky. The air crackled with power.
Kael stepped into the circle.
"This is madness," Nyla warned.
"She's mine," Kael said. "And I will bring her back."
As the final rune ignited, a tear in reality split before them. The Veil howled.
Kael vanished into it.
---
Aria opened her eyes in darkness.
Not night. Not shadow.
This was void.
Cold, colorless, and silent.
She had landed on stone. Above her, a sky rippled like oil. Her magic felt… thin. Muted.
"Where am I?" she whispered.
"Welcome to the Veil, little moon," a voice hissed behind her.
She turned—and froze.
A figure stepped from the dark. Silver eyes. Pale skin. Fangs.
Karis.
Kael's former lover.
Alive. And smiling.
"You didn't think he was only yours, did you?" Karis said.
And the darkness swallowed her scream.
---