Kael's POV

I woke up sweating and it was definitely not from heat. No, this was something different. You know, the sort of heat that is from the interior… like your blood is attempting to boil its way out of your system.

The shelter's fire was low, crackling softly, and Elias was seated cross-legged by the hearth. Sharpening the same curved blade yet again. His fingers never lost their rhythm.

I blinked forcefully, attempting to get grounded. But even so, my breath didn't feel normal.

Something was different. The room was incorrect. Or perhaps… perhaps I was.

The shadows were different now. The walls…they were inscribed. Symbols I hadn't seen before, written in a language that didn't seem like anything the wolves of Blackridge spoke. One of them… glowed softly as I sat up. I blinked and then it stopped. I stared longer but...nothing, except stone and soot.

Perhaps I was going crazy. Maybe I’d finally cracked.

You're awake again,” Elias said, not looking around. “Good. You'll be needing your legs working.”

I attempted to speak but my voice was hoarse. “Where are we?”

“My home,” he said simply. “For now.”

I sat up. My arms ached. My flesh was bruised as if I'd been trampled. “I saw something. Before I woke up.”

I immediately hated the fact that I said that out loud. He can't be trusted yet. But then he looked at me. Not confused or surprised.

“Good,”he repeated. “It's beginning.”

“What's beginning?”

He didn't respond. He got up and moved towards the wall, retrieving something from the shelf. A little leather bag and then threw it at me.

*Drink.”

“What is it?”

“It'll stop your heart from exploding. Temporarily.”

I glared at it, almost chuckling. “You didn't answer me.”

“And I won't,” he said, his tone now colder. “Because if I do, you'll be seeking reasons to quarrel with me. And I'd prefer not to break your neck this early in the week.”

I narrowed my eyes. “So now I'm a prisoner?”

You're alive,” he said, tugging on his coat. “Which is more than I can say for most who fall into the Wastes. Now move.”

He stepped out of the shelter, not waiting to see if I followed.

The Wastes weren't merely cold, they seemed like something was waiting. But not beasts, nor wolves. Something…. older.

Elias walked ahead like he belonged to it. I stayed behind him. Barely.

After a while, the trees grew darker. The branches twisted like they’d been screaming before they froze. The ground wasn’t snow anymore. It was stone. Slick and black. Cold seeped up through the soles of my feet.

“You ever wonder why Damon exiled you so quickly?” Elias said abruptly.

I didn't respond.

“He wasn't attempting to punish you,” he continued. “He was attempting to conceal you.”

I halted in my walk. “And what the hell would you know about Damon?”

“Enough,” said Elias, not turning back.

That did it. I seized his arm and pulled him around to face me.

“You've been speaking in riddles since you discovered me,” I said irritably. “If you discovered me. For all I know, you might have been tracking me from the start.”

His eyes flared for just a second. And then he shoved me back.

“You want answers?” He snarled. “Then keep walking.”

I scowled at him. "You don't get to call the shots here."

"Don't I?" he said, moving in closer. "Then answer me, Kael, how long have the runes been responding to you?"

What runes?

He gestured to the rock I'd just grazed with my shoulder.

A dim golden glow throbbed across its surface, marking a path like a pulse.

I stumbled backward. "What the—"

Don't touch it again," said Elias, serious now. "You're not ready for what that does.

"What is it?!"

"It's you, Kael," he said, his voice lower now. "The side of you that Damon attempted to bury. The side your mother never wished you to unlock."

That stopped me cold.

"What have you said about my mother?"

But he was already walking again.

We came to the rim of a cliff. At its foot was a ring of stones, half-submerged in snow. The posts here were taller. Older.

Elias pointed. "Down there."

"What is it?"

“A gate. Or a grave. Depends what you do with it.”

I didn't budge. Maybe he was expecting me to be shaken by that but I wasn't amused. I was a warrior, I've seen real evil.

He faced me, his eyes now darker. "If you wish to learn what you are — go."

"You're not coming?"

He shook his head. "It wouldn't reveal the same to me."

I stood there. Torn between logic and the scream in my chest telling me this was wrong.

And then something odd occurred. The wind died and I heard something. A whisper. Near, directly into my ear.

"He must not wake."

I winced and looked around but saw obody.

And suddenly, I was already inside the circle. My feet moved without meaning to. I touched the stone at the center and eeverything fell away.

THE VISION

The sky reddened. Blood red. A tower stood on fire. And in front of it, stood….me? But not me. Something else. Clawed. Fanged. Eyes glowing like a god of war.

A child screamed. A woman’s arms reached out.

And a voice I couldn't identify shouted: "Kill him before it's too late!

I dropped. And just like that, the vision snapped. Gone.

BACK IN THE REAL WORLD

I stumbled out of the ring and almost fell over.

Elias caught me.

"What did you see?" he asked, more seriously than previously.

I pushed him away. "You knew. You knew something would happen."

He didn’t deny it.

“You used me,” I panted. “Like a test rat. What the hell is this?”

"I told you," Elias said quietly. "You're waking up."

To what? Some prophecy? Some monster within me?

“To the truth," he said. "And why Damon wishes you dead.

I gazed at him, my heart pounding.

“I don’t trust you,” I muttered.

Elias didn’t blink. "Good," he replied. "That means you may survive what is to follow.”