Aurelia's POV
The moment Lucien crossed the threshold into the upper chamber, the pressure in my chest finally loosened—just a fraction. The heavy oak door slammed shut behind us, and Talon pressed his palm flat against it, whispering words that made the runes carved into the stone blaze bright blue.
The tower groaned.
Not collapsing—resisting.
Raffyn dragged a heavy iron bar into place and wedged it across the door with a sharp grunt. Fire rippled briefly along his arms before he forced it back under control. Even he looked shaken.
"He shouldn't have been able to do that," Talon said tightly. "The wards are centuries old."
Lucien lowered me onto the center of the chamber, kneeling immediately when my knees buckled. His wings faded slowly, light retreating like embers after a storm, but his hands stayed firm on my shoulders.
"Aurelia," he said urgently. "Look at me."
I tried.
My vision swam. The world tilted like it had during the explosion in the forest, except this time the magic inside me wasn't erupting outward—it was twisting inward, coiling tight, angry and confused.
"He called me," I whispered. "And my body listened."
Raffyn swore viciously under his breath.
Talon moved closer, his presence like cool water against overheated skin. He knelt beside me and placed two fingers against my temple. "That wasn't submission," he said. "It was compulsion. Ancient magic responds to bloodline authority."
Bloodline.
The word echoed too loudly in my head.
Lucien's jaw tightened. "He exploited fear and instinct. That doesn't mean he owns her."
"No," Talon agreed. "But it means he knows exactly what she is."
I wrapped my arms around myself, shaking. "I didn't choose that. I didn't choose any of this."
"You didn't choose to be hunted either," Raffyn said, crouching in front of me. His voice was rough, but his eyes—those blazing gold eyes—were steady. "But it's happening anyway."
The tower shuddered again.
From below, Jarek's presence slammed into the wards like a battering ram. The runes flared, dimmed, flared again.
Lucien rose to his feet, wings flickering back into partial existence. "He's testing the structure. Not breaking it yet."
"Yet," Raffyn echoed darkly.
Talon exhaled slowly. "The upper chamber was designed for containment. If we hold long enough—"
"For what?" I asked hoarsely.
He hesitated.
Lucien answered instead. "For help."
My head snapped up. "Help from who?"
The three of them exchanged a look I didn't like.
One that carried history. Regret. Secrets.
Raffyn straightened. "There's a witch."
The word sent a chill down my spine.
"An exiled one," Talon added carefully. "She lives at the edge of our territory."
Lucien nodded once. "Silvara Moonfall."
The name vibrated through me like a struck bell.
Before I could ask why that name felt familiar—why my pulse jumped at the sound of it—the tower shook violently again.
Jarek's voice rose from below, no longer smooth.
"Run all you want," he roared. "Every breath she takes pulls her closer to me."
Pain lanced through my skull.
I cried out, clutching my head as silver light flashed behind my eyes.
Lucien was there instantly, wings snapping wide as he pulled me against his chest. "Aurelia! Stay with me!"
Raffyn slammed a flaming fist into the stone floor. "That's it. I'm done waiting."
"No," Talon snapped. "If you confront him now, he'll kill you."
Raffyn rounded on him. "And if we wait, he'll break her."
Talon's voice softened—but didn't waver. "If we fight blindly, we lose. Jarek wants her to be unstable. Panicked. He's pushing her magic to the surface."
Lucien pressed his forehead to mine, voice low and urgent. "Aurelia, listen to me. Your magic is reacting because it doesn't recognize authority yet. It's wild. Untaught."
I swallowed hard. "Then teach me."
The room went still.
Talon looked at me sharply. "That isn't something wolves can do."
Raffyn's fire dimmed as realization crossed his face. "Which is why she needs Silvara."
Below us, the tower groaned again.
Jarek laughed—dark, satisfied.
"Bring her to me," he called. "Or watch her tear herself apart."
Lucien's arms tightened around me.
"She's not going to him," he said fiercely.
Talon nodded. "Then we move her. Before dawn."
Raffyn met my gaze, something fierce and protective burning there. "You don't leave our sight again. Ever."
I nodded, fear knotting with something else—resolve.
Because deep down, beneath the terror and the confusion, I felt it.
This wasn't the be
ginning of the end.
It was the beginning of the truth.
And somewhere beyond the forest, a witch was already waiting.