Aurelia's POV
Dusk came faster than I expected.
The forest darkened in layers—gold bleeding into gray, gray sinking into blue—until the air itself felt heavier, like it was pressing against my skin. Silvara led us deeper past the border where the trees grew knotted and old, their roots clawing through stone as if the earth had failed to bury them properly.
"This place is warded," Talon murmured, scanning the perimeter. "Not pack magic."
"No," Silvara replied. "Older."
That word again.
Older.
She stopped in a clearing ringed by seven standing stones. Each was etched with markings that made my skin prickle the moment I stepped inside the circle. The magic in me surged forward instinctively, eager and afraid all at once.
Raffyn swore softly. "I can feel it."
Lucien's hand tightened around mine. "You don't have to do this tonight."
Silvara turned on him sharply. "She does. Jarek won't wait for her comfort."
"I'm not afraid," I said—then corrected myself. "I am. But I'm still doing it."
Silvara studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "Good. Sit."
I lowered myself onto the bare earth at the center of the stones. The ground was cold, but not unpleasant—almost familiar, like a memory I couldn't place.
Silvara crouched in front of me. "Grounding is not controlled," she said. "It is recognition. You don't cage power like yours. You teach it where it belongs."
She pressed a finger into the dirt and drew a symbol that made my chest ache.
"This will hurt."
Raffyn bristled instantly. "Then stop."
Silvara didn't even look at him. "Pain is the language magic understands first."
Lucien knelt beside me, wings faint and restless. "If she says stop—"
"I won't," I said quickly. "Please. Don't make this harder."
Lucien exhaled shakily but nodded.
Silvara began to chant.
The air thickened, vibrating low enough that I felt it in my bones. The symbol beneath me glowed faint silver, then brighter, spreading outward like frost on glass.
At first it was manageable—a warmth blooming under my skin.
Then the pressure hit.
It felt like being pulled in every direction at once. My wolf clawed forward instinctively while something else—something deeper—rose up in protest. Images flashed behind my eyes: fire spiraling out of control, water crashing inward, wings tearing free beneath a silver moon.
I gasped, clutching my chest.
"Breathe," Talon ordered, calm but fierce. "In fours. Match me."
I tried.
The magic resisted.
My heartbeat thundered until it felt like it would rip out of me.
Silvara's voice cut through the chaos. "Do not fight it, Aurelia. Name it."
"I—I don't know how!"
"Yes, you do," she snapped. "What does it feel like?"
I squeezed my eyes shut. "Like… like I'm being split apart."
"Good," Silvara said. "That means you're finally touching the truth."
The pain sharpened suddenly, white-hot and unbearable.
I screamed.
Lucien surged forward—but Raffyn caught his arm, fire flaring violently between them.
"If you break the circle," Silvara shouted, "she'll lose control completely!"
Lucien froze, shaking.
I barely registered any of it.
The ground beneath me cracked.
Silver light tore out of my skin, wrapping around my arms, my throat, my spine. The magic screamed—not in anger, but in terror.
"It doesn't know where to go!" I sobbed.
"Then give it somewhere to rest," Silvara said. "Anchor it."
My mind latched onto the first solid thing it could find.
Lucien.
I felt the soul-bond snap taut like a lifeline. His presence flooded me—warm, steady, endless. The pain eased slightly.
Then the water surged.
Talon.
Cool, deliberate, stabilizing. The pressure shifted, reshaped.
And then—
Fire.
Raffyn's bond ignited, fierce and grounding, burning away the excess until the magic finally—
Settled.
The circle dimmed.
I collapsed forward, gasping, hands buried in dirt that was no longer cold.
Silvara stopped chanting.
The forest went silent.
Lucien was at my side instantly, pulling me into his arms. "It's over. You're safe."
I shook violently. "I thought I was dying."
Silvara approached slowly, studying the faint silver lines now etched into my skin like veins of moonlight.
"You weren't dying," she said quietly. "You were rooting."
Talon stared at the marks. "She anchored through us."
Silvara nodded. "As she must."
Raffyn's voice was low, almost reverent. "Three anchors."
Silvara met my gaze. "This is why Jarek wants you. And why are you dangerous to him."
My throat tightened. "That was just grounding?"
"Yes," Silvara said. "And it nearly tore you apart."
She straightened. "Tomorrow, we teach you to listen instead of surviving."
Lucien brushed my hair back gently. "Tomorrow?"
Silvara's eyes flicked toward the
darkening sky. "If Jarek doesn't strike first."
A distant rumble echoed through the forest—not thunder.
Howling.
And this time, it wasn't alone.