Soren's Pov
When I stepped out of the arena, my hands were still trembling. The brutal weight of the mace lingered in my palms like a phantom ache, as if I had never let it go. No matter how much I washed, I knew the stench of Felix's blood—that metallic scent of death—would never leave my soul.
The corridors were silent, but it was not the silence of peace. It was the silence of hunger, waiting for the next sacrifice. Felix's final look haunted me… the moment the mace struck his temple, that wrong sound. No one had needed to die today. But once the sand of the arena tasted blood, it never stopped until it was full.
As I walked, I passed through what remained of our former pack—or rather, what little was left of it. I felt their whispers and accusations pressing against my back. I couldn't bring myself to look toward Felix's home. He had two cubs. One of them had barely entered this world.
If only… if only there had been another way.
Selene opened the door. My shattered leg, the blood and fragments of Felix's life tangled in my hair—I must have looked monstrous. Yet Selene did not recoil anymore. That dull acceptance in her eyes hurt more than any wound.
Fauna—my golden-eyed girl, my miracle—ran to me the moment she saw me.
"Father! Your wounds… the mace again? They've completely lost their minds. These injuries take days to heal."
She immediately reached for my torn flesh.
"Fauna, no… don't," I murmured. I couldn't bear to see the emptiness that followed every time she used her gift.
Sadness clouded her face. She kissed my bloodstained cheek.
"If you die, I can't live, Father," she whispered.
Before I could protest again, she placed her hands first on my arm, then on my leg—the deepest wound. Her honey-colored eyes flared, glowing like embers. Just like they had eighteen years ago, on that frozen night… Back then, she hadn't only healed my body. She had healed my soul.
⸻
Eighteen Years Earlier
The night was cold like an executioner's blade. When Selene ate the meat tainted with the witches' poison, our fate was sealed. In the heart of pitch-black darkness, Selene's anguished howls tore through the sky.
Our child died in our arms before ever truly breathing—claimed by the witches' cursed magic.
To keep our baby from becoming part of their rituals, to stop them from turning that tiny body into a tool of dark sorcery, we went to the deepest part of the forest. Two grieving wolves clawed into the frozen earth with trembling hands. The soil smelled of death.
Then—
A sound cut through the icy wind.
A fragile, trembling cry… alive.
A cry that shattered the grave's darkness and filled the air with the scent of fresh flowers and spring.
Selene abandoned her grief and rushed toward it.
The moment we saw Fauna, the moon slipped free of the clouds and shone only on her. The wind fell silent. The forest held its breath.
The Goddess had taken one life from us—and given us light in return.
We buried our own child.
And pressed Fauna to our chests.
That was when the air filled with that nauseating, heavy, artificial stench.
The witches.
They came through the trees with violet flames and silver seals. As we hid among the undergrowth, the head crone stared into the empty grave. The cold arrogance in her voice still echoes in my ears:
"The cursed child is dead, my queen. Even those barbarians were disgusted by the monster and buried it. The curse is silenced forever."
Then blinding light erupted from their staffs. They sealed the grave and its surroundings with so-called holy fire—believing they had destroyed the curse.
They never knew that the curse they feared was warming in the shadows behind them, alive and breathing in rhythm with my heart.
⸻
Present
When I came back to myself, Fauna was already done. The deep gash in my leg had closed as if it had never existed, leaving only a thin white scar behind.
Fauna lay beside me, asleep. Her breathing was slow, her face pale—but peaceful.
The baby the witches had called a curse meant to die had become our eighteen-year secret.
Our unextinguished miracle…