Aurelia did not remember collapsing.
One moment she was running through the forest, her lungs burning, her heartbeat crashing in her ears. The next, she opened her eyes to a different kind of darkness. Not wild. Not natural. Structured.
The air smelled of cold stone, burned herbs, and something sharp beneath it... wolf magic.
She pushed herself up from a velvet-carved bench, realizing she was inside a moving carriage. The walls were lined with old symbols, glowing faintly like they were carved from moonlight itself.
Her voice trembled. "Where am I?"
Lucian sat across from her, watching her with those strange violet eyes. In this form he was human, but the wolf was always just underneath his skin. His long coat draped around him like a shadow.
"You fainted," he said softly. "Kael carried you."
Aurelia froze. "Carried me where?"
"To the castle," Lucian answered. "You are safer with us than out there."
"I don't feel safe with you," she whispered.
Lucian's lips tilted. Not a smile. Something sadder. "I know."
Before she could answer, the carriage stopped.
The door opened to reveal Rowan. Young. Gentle-eyed. His midnight-blue gaze locked on her like he had been waiting every second for this moment.
"Aurelia... come. Please." His voice was soft. Too soft for a wolf prince.
She hesitated.
Then she stepped outside.
Cold night air brushed her skin as she looked up at the towering fortress before her. Blackthorn Castle rose out of the mountain like it had been carved from darkness itself. High spires. Iron gates. Moonlight clinging to its edges.
It was beautiful, and terrifying.
Draven was by the gate, arms crossed, eyes hungry and amused as always. He tilted his head the moment he saw her.
"Still alive. Good. I was afraid Kael might have squeezed you too tightly when he carried you."
Aurelia flushed. "I didn't ask any of you to bring me here."
"You didn't have to," Draven replied. "Your scent did the calling."
Before she could argue, the air shifted.
Kael stepped out from the shadow of the archway, every movement slow and controlled. His silver eyes locked onto Aurelia like she was the only thing in existence.
"Inside," he said. "Now."
Something in his voice made her spine straighten without thinking. Not fear. Not obedience. Recognition.
As if some part of her knew him.
Aurelia swallowed hard. "I want answers."
"You will get them," Kael said. "But first, you must cross the threshold. The castle will not open itself to someone it does not accept."
"The castle accepts people?" she asked.
Lucian murmured behind her, "It is alive with old magic."
Her eyes widened.
Kael extended a hand. Not touching her. Not forcing her.
Just waiting.
Aurelia stepped toward the gate.
And the moment her foot touched the entrance, the iron bars flared with silver light. A hum rippled through the stone, deep and ancient, like it was smelling her. Testing her. Claiming her.
Aurelia staggered. "What is happening?"
Rowan placed a steadying hand on her arm. Warm. Gentle. "The castle is reading you. Your blood. Your fate. Your fear."
The light pulsed stronger.
Then stronger again.
Draven's eyes widened slightly. "She called to it."
Lucian whispered, almost reverently. "No human should be able to do that."
Kael watched her with an unreadable expression.
Finally the gates opened with a slow, echoing groan, revealing a long corridor of shadowed torches and ancient tapestries.
Kael spoke, voice low.
"It seems the castle accepts you, Aurelia."
She looked at him, breath shaking. "What does that mean?"
"It means," he said, "your life is no longer only yours."
A chill ran through her.
Kael stepped beside her, his presence overwhelming.
"Welcome to Blackthorn Castle," he said quietly. "Where the prophecy begins."