The Hollow Temple burned with silent light.
Not fire. Not magic. Something older.
The glow emanated from the very bones of the stones, etched into the walls like veins as though the temple itself had woken from a thousand-year slumber.
Seraphina stood at the center, her hand trembling as she pressed it against the rune-branded pillar. Her palm pulsed with heat the mark of the Flameborn writhing beneath her skin like a second heartbeat.
Kaelen knelt at her side, his breathing uneven, blood dripping from his nose. Ever since the Wyrm's name was spoken, something inside him had begun to fray. The runes on his arms were shifting again, darker, more jagged.
"I saw her," Seraphina whispered. "The First Hybrid."
Kaelen looked up through the crimson sheen in his vision. "What did she say?"
"That the Flameborn doesn't rise alone…" Seraphina turned to face him, eyes filled with dread. "...and neither does the Wyrm."
Thunder rumbled beneath their feet. Not above below. As if something deep in the earth was stirring, restless in its cage.
Kaelen's eyes flicked toward the temple doors. "We shouldn't have come here."
"You didn't come here," a voice said from the shadows. "You were brought."
Both whirled around, hands glowing Seraphina's with flame, Kaelen's with shifting silver glyphs. From the darkness, Imra stepped forward. But she wasn't alone.
Beside her stood Maelin.
Seraphina's breath caught. "You…"
Kaelen growled low in his throat, the hair on his arms standing as his wolf fought to surface. "You betrayed us."
Maelin's smile was quiet. Almost mournful. "I tried to warn you. The bond is a curse, Seraphina. You were never meant to rise. And he," he nodded at Kaelen "was never meant to live."
"You would kill him?" Seraphina snarled, flame swirling up her arms. "After everything?"
"I would save you," Maelin snapped. "From yourself. From the path you're forcing open. You've tasted the Flameborn's gift, but you don't know what it costs. That power isn't a blessing. It's a tether to the Wyrm."
Imra stepped forward, her eyes dulled. "He speaks truth, child. The Wyrm was bound beneath this temple for a reason. And when the Flameborn rises so does he."
Seraphina's magic flared, but it pulsed with hesitation. Doubt.
Kaelen stepped in front of her. "We're not your enemy. Not yet. But if you raise a hand to her again—"
"You'll what?" Maelin asked, stepping forward. "Bleed all over us again?"
Kaelen didn't flinch.
Maelin's eyes narrowed. "Tell me, Alpha. Have the dreams begun? The ones that leave your hands burning and your blood cold?"
Kaelen stiffened.
"You think your curse is just ancestral?" Maelin hissed. "You think the Wyrm isn't already inside you?"
Seraphina gasped. "Kaelen…"
"I'm fine," he growled. But his fingers trembled.
Maelin's smile widened. "It started the night you marked her, didn't it? When your bond sealed? The Wyrm feeds through blood. Through connection."
"Enough!" Seraphina roared, her voice echoing like bells cracking. "You speak like a man who's already lost."
"No," Maelin said softly. "I speak like a man who remembers what it's like to love you."
And then the knife came.
Quick. Silent. A flick of the wrist.
Straight at Kaelen's throat.
But it never landed.
Seraphina moved faster than light the flame from her hands forming a shield of pure molten magic. The dagger slammed against it and shattered into obsidian dust.
"You want war?" she whispered. "You'll have it."
Maelin's lips curled. "So be it."
Then the temple exploded in light.
It wasn't magic. It was memory.
Seraphina screamed as the ground split beneath her. Visions poured into her mind thousands of them faces she didn't recognize, places long dead, blood spilling in rivers beneath moons that had cracked like glass.
Kaelen clutched his head beside her. "I see them too," he choked. "Seraphina we're seeing the same thing."
A field. A child. A grave.
And a flame. Always a flame.
Then silence.
When they came to, Imra was gone. So was Maelin.
The temple was no longer glowing. The runes were dead.
And Kaelen was bleeding from the eyes.
"Kaelen!"
"I'm fine," he whispered, voice hoarse. "But… something's wrong. I saw a door, Sera. In my mind. And it opened."
Seraphina pressed her forehead to his. "We'll figure this out. We always do."
Kaelen opened his mouth but then flinched.
His arm burned.
The rune across his bicep shimmered and reshaped forming a serpent twisted around a sun.
Seraphina's eyes widened. "That's… that's the Wyrm's sigil."
"I didn't call it," Kaelen said, breath shaking. "It came to me."
Seraphina's stomach twisted. They had crossed a threshold. Whatever they thought they were running from… it had found them.
Suddenly, a howl rang out through the temple.
Not a wolf.
Something older. Louder. Hollow.
Kaelen rose, teeth bared.
From the far end of the broken hall, a figure stepped into view.
It wasn't Imra.
It wasn't Maelin.
It was a woman cloaked in ash, her eyes glowing silver and gold. In her hand, she held a staff carved from bone.
"I warned them," she said softly. "The Flameborn would awaken. And so would I."
Seraphina stepped forward. "Who are you?"
The woman smiled.
"Elowen."