The den became chaos.
As wolves prepared for battle, voices rose, sharp and venomous. One young wolf—Brenn, the same who had once called her curse—stood again, his eyes glowing faintly red.
"She feeds him!" he snarled, pointing at Aradia, his voice carrying. "Every flame she casts strengthens Ronan. We fight her war, not ours!"
Kael's wolf surged, claws sliding free, his green eyes blazing. "Silence."
But Brenn lunged—not at Kael. At her.
The cavern erupted in snarls. Wolves clashed with wolves, blood spilling across stone. Aradia's fire blazed instinctively, shielding her, searing Brenn back. His eyes widened—red, corrupted.
The pack froze.
Kael struck, his claws tearing through the traitor. Brenn fell, his body crumbling into ash, the scent of shadow rising.
Whispers spread: "It's inside us. The shadow has already come."
And for the first time, Aradia saw it—the fear that was not of her, not of Kael.
The fear that the shadow lived within.