Callum narrowed his eyes. "Both worlds?"
Lysandra gave a slow, solemn nod. "Blood of the Vale… and blood of the mortal realm. Only one who walks in both may pass through the Veil of Embers that guards the Obsidian Archives."
Rhea glanced between them, heart pounding. "What does that mean? How can someone hold both kinds of blood?"
Lysandra looked directly at her, eyes glinting with both pity and reverence. "You already do."
Rhea's breath caught in her throat. "What?"
"The Vale left its mark on you when you crossed its threshold. But something else was already within you a dormant trace of ancient lineage. One I did not see until now."
Callum stepped closer to her, hand on her back. "She's saying you're the key, Rhea. You can open the Archives."
"But why me?" Rhea's voice cracked. "I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't even know who I really was until you found me, Callum."
Lysandra's expression softened. "The Fates rarely choose those who ask. They choose those strong enough to carry what others can't."
Rhea swallowed hard. Her mind spun triplets, hidden souls, a forgotten power within her, and now a destiny that linked her to a place even the ancients feared.
Mark stepped forward. "Then we don't waste time. If the Archives hold knowledge about the Hollow Star and the Forgotten King, we need to get there before Kael does."
Callum nodded. "Prepare a team. Thorne, Mark, Lysandra you're with us. We leave before moonrise."
Rhea reached for Callum's hand, her voice trembling. "And what if I find something in the Archives… something I'm not ready to face?"
He gripped her hand tightly. "Then we face it together."
---
Later that night…
As the pack prepared for their journey, Rhea stood alone at the edge of the cliff overlooking the valley. The stars were unusually dim, as if the sky itself held its breath.
A sudden rustle made her turn.
Lysandra stepped beside her, barefoot, silent.
"I know what you're afraid of," the ghostly woman said softly.
"Do you?" Rhea whispered. "Because I don't even know what I am anymore."
"You are becoming what you were always meant to be," Lysandra said. "A bridge. A beacon."
"I didn't choose this."
"No. But you have the power to shape it. The Seer's warning wasn't a sentence it was a test. The Hollow Star is close. And when it awakens, you will have to decide whether to fight it… or become it."
Rhea turned to her, eyes wide. "You think it's me."
"I don't know," Lysandra admitted. "But the signs point to you or someone bonded to you. The child you carry... it could be the key."
Rhea's hand fell to her stomach. "Three souls. One in light, one in shadow, one in flame."
"The flame," Lysandra murmured. "That is what worries me. Fire purifies… or destroys."
Rhea's voice trembled. "And what if I fail?"
Lysandra smiled faintly. "Then the world burns."
---
At the pack's borders…
Callum strapped his sword across his back, eyes scanning the trees as Thorne returned with four warriors and two scouts. Mark held an ancient scroll that outlined the map to the Ebon Mountains.
"The path is treacherous," Mark said. "Old blood magic. Traps woven into the stone. But if Rhea can get us through the Veil, we'll have a chance."
Rhea joined them, clad in leather armor that clung to her like a second skin. Her eyes held a new kind of fire one not just born of fear, but of resolve.
Callum offered her a small smile. "Ready?"
"No," she said honestly. "But I'm going anyway."
He chuckled. "That's what makes you braver than all of us."
They rode out under the cloak of night, a small unit moving fast through the wilderness, guided by starlight and shadow.
But as they reached the foot of the Ebon Mountains, a low growl echoed from the cliffs above.
Wolves.
But not Callum's.
Not even Kael's.
These wolves were marked by silver brands on their chests and glowing red eyes. And they did not smell of pack. They reeked of ash and death.
Thorne drew his blade. "Hellhounds."
Mark cursed. "Kael must've sent them to block the path."
Callum raised his hand. "Form up! Protect Rhea!"
The beasts lunged from the trees dozens of them, snarling with feral madness. Their bodies were twisted, malformed, as if molded by nightmare and flame.
Callum shifted mid-leap, his Alpha form towering as he slammed into the first creature, tearing it apart with claws and fury. Thorne and Mark fought at his side, blades singing through the night.
Lysandra raised her arms, her voice chanting in the ancient tongue. Light flared around her, pushing back the shadows.
But more were coming.
Rhea stood in the center, frozen… until one of the beasts lunged for her.
She threw up her hands
and fire exploded from her skin.
A wave of golden flame surged outward, consuming the creature in a burst of heat and light. It screamed as it vanished to ash.
Everyone stopped.
Even the hounds.
Rhea stood tall, golden light crackling from her fingertips, eyes glowing amber.
The mark on her shoulder the sigil of the Vale burned brightly.
"She's awakened," Lysandra whispered in awe. "The flame has chosen."
Rhea's voice came low and steady.
"Let them come."
The remaining hounds growled but hesitated.
And then turned and fled.
The woods fell silent.
Callum stepped toward her slowly, his wolf receding as he shifted back. "You… you saved us."
Rhea's eyes dimmed, the power retreating, and she collapsed into his arms.
"I don't know how I did that," she whispered.
Callum held her tightly. "We'll figure it out. One step at a time."
Behind them, Lysandra approached the mountain wall where the entrance to the Veil of Embers stood hidden.
As the wind howled through the pass, the ancient runes carved into the rock flared with deep orange light.
The mountain groaned.
And the stone began to open.
The path to the Obsidian Archives lay ahead.
And with it… the truth that could break them or make them strong enough to stand against the Forgotten King.