Chapter 85: Eighty Five : The Ritual Chamber
Mara's POV
The scent of burning silver filled the air, sharp enough to claw at my lungs.
Chains bit into my wrists, glowing faintly with runes that hummed like angry wasps. I tried to move, to fight, but every motion sent pain surging through me.
My wolf whimpered, trapped deep inside, her growl fading with every pulse of light from the circle drawn around me.
“Hold her still,” one of the Elders ordered, voice echoing through the stone hall.
Two guards stepped closer, forcing my shoulders down. My knees hit the cold floor. The silver lines beneath me shimmered, drinking my blood where it spilled.
The ritual circle fed on it, my life, my power dragging it into the chanting rhythm that made the walls tremble.
They wanted to sever the bond. To carve Ronald out of me as if he were a sickness.
“By the decree of the High Council,” the lead Elder said, his robes whispering across the ground, “we cleanse the world of your corruption. The curse of the Silverfang dies with you.”
My lips split into a bloodied smile. “You can try.”
He raised his staff, symbols burning brighter at its tip. “Defiance will only worsen the pain.”
“It’s the only thing keeping me alive,” I hissed.
The chanting deepened. The runes around me flared, and heat seared through my veins. I screamed as something inside me tore, not flesh, but spirit.
My wolf’s howl echoed faintly in my mind, growing weaker, her claws dulling against invisible walls.
Then I felt it.
Ronald.
His rage hit me like a thunderclap.
Through the bond, his voice thundered, rough, desperate, alive.
“Fight, or I’ll burn this world to ash.”
The sound of him broke something loose in me. My heart, my fear, everything twisted into fire. I could almost smell the smoke of his fury, hear the crash of battle outside. The fortress shook with it.
I spat blood at the floor, my breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “You hear that?” I snarled at the Elder. “He’s coming for you.”
The Elder’s gaze flickered for the first time. “The Alpha cannot breach the wards.”
The ground trembled again. Dust rained from the ceiling.
I smiled through the pain. “Then you don’t know him.”
They kept chanting, but their rhythm faltered. One of them stumbled, fear flickering across his face.
Good. Let them fear.
My wolf stirred faintly, a low growl vibrating through the hollow inside me. She was barely there, but she was listening.
Get up, she whispered. We are not prey.
I forced my head up. My vision swam, black spots dancing before my eyes, but I saw it, the Silverfang blade strapped beneath my torn sleeve, half-hidden beneath the binding rune.
It was dull now, almost lifeless… but it pulsed, faintly, each throb matching the beat of my heart.
One of the guards noticed my movement. “She’s weakening,” he muttered.
He stepped closer, reaching to tighten the chains, just close enough.
I moved fast, faster than I should have been able to. I twisted my wrist, ignoring the scream of torn skin, and my fingers brushed the blade’s hilt.
The moment my blood touched it, the steel flared, silver fire roaring to life, blinding in the dark. The circle cracked beneath me with a violent hiss, and the runes nearest to me went dark.
The Elder shouted, “Stop her! Seal the circle!”
But it was too late.
The blade pulsed again, harder this time. The heat burned, but it didn’t hurt, it answered. It felt alive, as if it had been waiting for my blood. For this moment.
My wolf’s voice surged through me, wild and fierce again. Now, Mara!
I lunged. The chains melted under the blade’s glow, snapping like brittle twigs. Silver splattered the floor. The guards stumbled back, blinded by the light.
The lead Elder screamed, raising his staff again. “You cannot fight fate, child of the cursed line!”
I staggered to my feet, breath ragged. “I’m not fighting fate,” I rasped. “I’m rewriting it.”
The runes around me erupted, silver sparks flying outward like a storm. The light swallowed everything.
For a heartbeat, I saw Ronald’s face in my mind, blood, fire, fury and I felt his promise again: Fight.
The blade burned brighter, answering him.
And as the circle shattered completely, I realized what the weapon truly was. It wasn’t just forged silver. It was blood-bound. Mine.
The floor beneath me split open with a thunderous crack, the light of the Silverfang crest rising through it, alive and pulsing in rhythm with my heart.
The Elders stumbled back, shielding their eyes as the power surged. I lifted the blade, my voice breaking through the chaos.
“This ends tonight.”
The last rune burst into flame and the world went white.