Chapter 77

Chapter 77

Lucien’s POV

The summons didn’t come with sound.

It came as pressure.

A slow, tightening pull behind my eyes, like the world itself had wrapped a hand around my spine and tugged ..gently, insistently away from the camp.

I stopped walking.

Noland was a few yards ahead, helping Roland bind a shallow gash on his arm. Tiara sat close to the fire, wrapped in a blanket too big for her, her small fingers clutching a piece of charred wood like it could anchor her to the ground.

I felt it again.

Stronger this time.

My wolf stirred uneasily.

Not here, I told myself. Not now.

But the pull didn’t care.

I took a step back.

Then another.

Noland looked up immediately. “Lucien?”

“I’ll be right back,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “Don’t move camp.”

His brow furrowed. “Where are you going?”

“Border,” I lied.

The bond flickered suspicion, worry — but he nodded. “Be quick.”

I didn’t trust my voice to answer.

I turned and followed the pull into the trees.

The forest shifted the moment I crossed the threshold.

The air thickened. The temperature dropped. The scent of pine and ash dissolved into something older ..cold stone, dust, time.

Mist crept across the ground, curling around my boots like it recognized me.

I exhaled slowly. “You could at least announce yourself.”

The Oracle appeared three steps ahead of me.

Not forming. Not arriving.

Just there.

Her robes flowed like liquid moonlight, stitched with runes that moved when I wasn’t looking directly at them. Her face was veiled, but I felt her gaze lock onto me with crushing weight.

“You came alone,” she said.

“I didn’t have a choice,” I replied.

Her head tilted slightly. “You always have a choice. You simply don’t like the ones offered.”

My jaw tightened. “Say what you came to say.”

The mist thickened, rising to my knees.

“The child lives,” the Oracle said.

Relief punched through me so hard my legs nearly buckled.

“And she will continue to live,” she went on, mercilessly calm.

I frowned. “That’s it?”

“No,” she said. “That is the lie you’ve been clinging to.”

The ground beneath us shimmered — images bleeding into the air. Hollow Creek burning. Wolves screaming. Noland on his knees, bloodied, roaring in grief.

My chest tightened painfully.

“The prophecy you heard was incomplete,” the Oracle said. “Because you were not ready to hear the rest.”

“Then tell me now,” I snapped.

She stepped closer.

The air bent around her.

“The child will not fall,” she said.

I swallowed. “Good.”

Her voice dropped.

“The Alpha will.”

The world tilted.

“No,” I breathed. “That’s not—”

“You are an Alpha,” she continued. “So is he. Two leaders bound by one fate.”

My heart began to pound violently. “Which one?”

She didn’t answer immediately.

She didn’t have to.

I already knew.

My wolf went utterly silent.

I laughed once — sharp, hollow. “So that’s it? That’s your great truth? I die so the world balances itself?”

“You fall,” she corrected. “Death is only one interpretation.”

“Stop playing with words,” I snarled. “Just say it.”

Her veil rippled.

“You are the hinge,” she said. “If you break, the door closes. If you stand, the world burns.”

Images flooded my mind — Noland screaming my name, Tiara crying over my body, Hollow Creek standing whole but empty.

I staggered back a step.

“No,” I whispered. “It’s not happening.”

“You will try to deny it,” the Oracle said softly. “You will try to outrun it. You will try to trade places.”

I looked up sharply. “Trade?”

She didn’t answer that.

Instead, she raised one long, pale hand.

“There is another truth you must carry,” she said. “A smaller one. Sharper.”

The mist shifted again.

This time, the image was Hollow Creek — quiet, rebuilding, familiar faces moving among the ruins.

“One among them walks two paths,” the Oracle said. “They have already chosen neither.”

My blood chilled. “A traitor.”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

She lowered her hand.

“If I told you,” she said, “you would act too soon.”

“Then why tell me at all?”

“Because betrayal thrives in darkness,” she replied. “And you will bring the light.”

Something appeared in her palm.

A stone — smooth, dark, etched with faint runes that pulsed like a heartbeat.

She held it out.

“This will glow when betrayal draws near,” she said. “It does not distinguish intent. Only choice.”

I took it.

The stone was warm.

Too warm.

“What happens when it glows?” I asked quietly.

She stepped back, already fading. “Then you decide whether to break the bond… or let it break you.”

The mist collapsed inward.

The forest snapped back into place.

Birds stirred. Wind moved.

I stood alone, the rune stone heavy in my hand.

For a long moment, I didn’t move.

Then I turned back toward camp.

Every step felt heavier than the last.

I could hear voices before I saw them — laughter, low and tired but real. Someone had found food. Someone else was arguing about how burnt it was.

Life.

I emerged from the trees.

Noland looked up immediately.

“There you are,” he said. “Tiara was asking for you.”

My throat tightened. “Is she okay?”

“She’s asleep,” he said gently. “Exhausted.”

I nodded, unable to speak.

He studied me for a moment. “You look like hell.”

I forced a weak smile. “Feel worse.”

As I stepped closer, the stone in my hand flared.

Hot.

Bright.

A sharp pulse of light burned against my palm.

I froze.

Noland noticed instantly. “Lucien?”

I looked down.

The rune stone glowed like a living ember.

Betrayal was near.

And I was standing in the middle of everyone I loved.

The Oracle’s words echoed in my skull:

The Alpha will fall.

My fingers closed around the stone.

And for the first time since this war began, I didn’t know who I was afraid of losing more.

My pack.

My mate.

Or myself.