Chapter Twenty-Two
The Temple Bargain
Magnus POV
The temple still remembered me.
That was the first mistake they'd made.
Its wards flared the moment my boots touched the broken marble steps—old magic, divine sigils etched deep into stone meant to reject monsters, traitors, and men like me. The air thickened, pressure bearing down on my shoulders, on my lungs.
I smiled through it.
Pain had never stopped me before.
"Still so dramatic," I murmured, forcing my way forward as the doors groaned open. Dust cascaded from the ceiling, disturbed after centuries of silence. The temple of the White Wolf had been abandoned, sealed after Helena's fall—locked away like a shame no god wanted to acknowledge.
And yet.
Here I was.
Alive.
Awake.
Running on nothing but spite, desperation, and the echo of a goddess's laughter in my bones.
Every step closer sharpened the pull in my chest. That connection—the one I'd tried to sever, drown, bury—it thrummed louder the deeper I went.
Helena.
Chains of divine light coiled around the inner sanctum like a spider's web, glowing white-hot, humming with containment spells layered so thick they were vibrating the ground. At the center stood a stone dais—and bound to it, suspended inches above the ground—
Her.
She looked smaller than I remembered.
Weaker.
Her once-brilliant silver hair hung dull and tangled, skin pale, eyes closed as if she slept. Shackles pierced through wrists and ankles, anchoring her to the altar, divine blood crusted dark against the stone.
The White Wolf. Reduced to this.
For a heartbeat, doubt crept in.
Then she opened her eyes.
Red.
Bright. Amused.
"Well," Helena drawled, voice echoing through the chamber like a caress and a threat all at once. "If it isn't my favorite failure."
I laughed. I couldn't help it. The sound cracked out of me, raw and hoarse. "You look terrible."
She smiled wider. Too wide. "You look desperate."
I stepped closer, ignoring the wards flaring in protest. "They woke me up."
Her gaze sharpened instantly. "They?"
"You know who," I said. "The girl. Hazel."
Something flickered across Helena's face—interest, hunger, satisfaction. It was gone in a blink, replaced with lazy disdain.
"So," she said lightly, "she remembers."
"Enough," I replied. "And she's getting stronger."
The chains rattled softly.
Helena sighed then smirked. "That is.... inconvenient. I thought you just woke up? How then do you know?"
"I've been awake for a while. Just needed to gather strength and, of course, information."
"Oh? What have you got, my little traitor? Spying on your grandson? And I thought I was the crazy one."
"They've been training, Hazel, Caleb, and his beta."
I stopped at the edge of the dais, close enough now to feel her power—muted, caged, but very much alive. "I need your help."
That earned me a laugh.
"Oh, Magnus," she crooned. "You come crawling back after everything you've done, and you still think you get to ask?"
"I'm not asking," I said. "I'm bargaining."
Her eyes glittered, "With what?"
I gestured vaguely at the chains, the runes, the prison built by gods terrified of what she'd become "Freedom."
The word hummed between us.
Helena stilled completely.
"You can't break these," she said slowly. "Not alone."
"No," I agreed. "But I can weaken them, distract the right people, create chaos."
I leaned in closer, lowering my voice "And you can make it look like you're still trapped."
Her smile returned—sharp, delighted. "Go on."
"I release you," I said. "Enough for you to act through me. Whisper. Push. Possess if you must." My jaw clenched. "In return, you help me survive what's coming."
"And Hazel?" Helena asked softly. Too softly.
I hesitated.
Just a fraction.
She noticed.
"Ah," she purred. "There it is, the second life. The little red wolf you broke so beautifully the first time. I'm not bargaining if I don't get to have her. I'll be free of this," She gestured at her wrists. "Soon enough I really don't need you. But you, you on the other hand, desperately need me. You need my help or your little grandson will end you and make it last."
"She's not yours to take," I snapped ignoring everything else she said.
Helena laughed again, chains chiming as she shifted. "Oh, Magnus, Everyone is mine eventually."
Silence stretched.
Then she sighed, settling back against the invisible restraints, eyes half-lidded, deceptively calm. "Very well."
My stomach twisted. "You agree?"
"Yes," she said. "I will help you."
Too easy.
"What's the price?" I asked.
Her gaze locked onto mine, burning. "You deliver me to her."
Ice slid down my spine. "What?"
"Not yet," Helena said smoothly. "Not whole. Not free. But you bring me close." Her smile turned feral. "Close enough to remind her who is more powerful."
I shook my head negatively. "That wasn't—"
"Then there is no deal," she cut in coldly.
The wards surged, pain ripping through my skull as if the temple itself rejected my hesitation. I staggered, barely catching myself on the edge of the dais.
Helena watched, delighted.
"You're already damned," she said softly. "At least be useful."
I stared at her.
At the monster I had loved. Followed. Feared.
At the future racing toward us whether I wanted it or not. Our story is and will always be complicated.
"…Fine," I said at last.
Her grin was triumphant.
The chains flared blinding white—and then dimmed, just a breath. Just enough.
Helena sagged visibly, head dropping, eyes closing as if she'd lost consciousness entirely. The illusion snapped into place, flawless.
Trapped.
Contained.
I stepped back, heart pounding.
She spoke inside my head then, silk and venom wrapped together.
"Run, she whispered. Carry my message."
"To Hazel and Caleb," I murmured aloud, already turning away.
Helena smiled in my mind.
"Tell them everything, she said. Every sin, every secret, let's scatter them. Let's have a princess in distress, a heartbroken princess. Damn, this is going to be sooo fun." She squealed.
The temple shuddered as I crossed the threshold.
And inside me, the White Wolf waited.
Patient.
Hungry.
Very much awake.