Sleep did not come.
When she lay on her bed, staring at the dark wooden beams above her, the quiet inside her was too loud. The absence of the bond pressed against her senses, an unfamiliar hollow where warmth and instinct used to reside.
Her wolf paced.
Not frantically. Not wounded.
Waiting.
Something is wrong, it murmured, voice low and distant, as if echoing through a cavern.
"Yes," she whispered. "I feel it too."
The silence was no longer empty.
It was crowded.
She rose before dawn, pulling on her cloak with hands steadier than she expected. The corridor outside her quarters was deserted, the pack still wrapped in sleep. Torches burned low, shadows stretching long and distorted along the stone walls.
As she walked, the air shifted.
It thickened—subtle, almost imperceptible—but her skin prickled as though brushed by unseen fingers. The runes carved into the walls flickered faintly as she passed, their glow stuttering like uncertain breath.
She slowed.
That had never happened before.
Her wolf stilled.
They are reacting to us.
A chill slid down her spine. "Runes don't react."
Not to wolves, her wolf replied. But we are no longer only that.
Her steps faltered.
The training grounds lay ahead, open and wide beneath the paling sky. Mist clung low to the earth, curling around the posts and weapons left from the previous day's drills. She stepped into the fog, inhaling sharply.
The ground thrummed beneath her feet.
Not the pulse of the pack. Not Alpha presence.
Something older.
She pressed a hand to her chest as heat bloomed there suddenly—not painful, but intense, spreading outward in slow waves. Her breath came faster.
"What is happening to me?" she whispered.
The mist responded.
It moved.
Not drifting—parting.
A path opened before her, clear and deliberate, leading toward the far edge of the grounds where the oldest standing stones loomed, half-forgotten and rarely used. No one trained near them anymore. The elders said the stones remembered too much.
Her heart hammered.
She knew she should turn back.
She didn't.
Each step forward sent a ripple through the air, the fog trembling as if aware of her presence. When she reached the stones, the pressure intensified, humming beneath her skin.
The markings carved into the stone faces glowed faintly.
Then brighter.
Her wolf lifted its head inside her, alert and focused.
This place recognizes us.
"I've never been here," she whispered.
But we have.
The words sent a shiver through her.
A sudden rush of images slammed into her—fractured and sharp. Fire curling around moonlit figures. Wolves standing not beneath kings, but beside them. A woman with eyes like burning embers raising her hand as the earth split open.
She staggered, catching herself against one of the stones.
"Stop," she gasped. "Please—"
The images vanished as abruptly as they had come.
She slid down to her knees, chest heaving.
Footsteps approached.
She snapped her head up, instincts flaring.
Beta Kael halted a few paces away, eyes wide as he took in the glowing stones, the mist that clung unnaturally close to her skin.
"You shouldn't be here," he said hoarsely.
"Neither should they be reacting," she shot back, gesturing weakly to the stones.
He swallowed. "They haven't lit up in centuries."
That word echoed ominously.
"Why now?" she asked.
Kael's gaze sharpened, fear bleeding through his controlled exterior. "Because the bond didn't break you."
"Because he rejected me."
"No," Kael said. "Because you survived him."
The air shifted again—heavier this time, crushing in its intensity.
Alpha presence rolled across the grounds like a storm front.
Kael stiffened. "He's coming."
She rose slowly to her feet.
The Alpha King emerged from the mist, cloak snapping faintly in the wind. His golden eyes locked onto the stones instantly, then snapped to her.
The flicker of control he usually wore slipped.
Just for a moment.
"What did you do?" he demanded.
She straightened, refusing to shrink beneath his gaze. "I came here."
"You awakened them."
"I didn't know I could."
His jaw clenched. "That is the problem."
The stones pulsed brighter, responding to the tension in the air. Power pressed down hard now, making it difficult to breathe.
Kael moved subtly closer to her side.
The Alpha noticed.
"Step away from her," he ordered.
Kael didn't move.
The silence stretched, taut and dangerous.
"She's not attacking anyone," Kael said carefully. "Maybe we should listen."
The Alpha's gaze snapped to him, fury blazing. "You forget yourself."
"No," Kael replied. "I remember the old laws."
That did it.
The Alpha turned back to her, voice cold and sharp. "You will leave this place immediately. You will suppress whatever this is. I will not have ancient magic destabilizing my pack."
She laughed softly, disbelief threading through the sound. "Suppress it how?"
"You will obey," he snapped.
Her wolf surged forward—not violently, but firmly.
He cannot command what he does not understand.
She lifted her chin. "I don't think you can stop this."
The Alpha stepped closer, power flaring in response. "I am your king."
"And you rejected me," she said quietly.
The words landed hard.
For a split second, something flickered across his face—regret, perhaps. Or calculation.
"You should have died from it," he said lowly. "That was the risk."
Kael sucked in a sharp breath.
She stared at the Alpha, the weight of that admission settling deep in her chest.
"You knew," she whispered. "You knew rejection could kill me."
"I knew it would end the problem," he replied.
Something inside her hardened completely.
The stones flared blindingly bright.
The ground trembled.
Kael stumbled back as a wave of power surged outward, not explosive, but vast—ancient and controlled. The Alpha braced himself, boots digging into the earth as his eyes widened.
For the first time, he looked at her not as a subordinate.
But as a threat.
She stood at the center of it all, hair lifting slightly as energy curled around her like invisible flame. Her heartbeat slowed, steadied.
"I was never your problem," she said calmly. "I was your warning."
The Alpha's voice dropped. "What are you?"
She met his gaze without fear.
"I don't know yet," she answered. "But neither do you."
The stones dimmed slowly, the mist settling back into stillness as the power receded.
When the air finally cleared, the Alpha took a single step back.
Just one.
But she saw it.
Kael saw it too.
Her wolf spoke, voice stronger now, resolute.
We are no longer bound.
She exhaled slowly.
And somewhere beneath the pack lands, something ancient shifted—no longer sleeping, no longer waiting.
Awake.