Chapter 31
Chapter 31
Gideon's POV
A massive brown wolf tore through the forest depths under the moonlight.
My left calf burned like hell—that damn wind blade from the girl's ring had grazed my skin earlier, leaving a seared gash. I could feel blood seeping down through my fur, but there was no time to deal with it now. I had to get away from that area. The farther, the better.
Finally, I stopped in front of a hidden cave and shifted back to human form. Moonlight filtered through the branches above, spilling over my bare skin. I glanced down at the wound on my calf—not deep, but painful enough.
I tore off a strip from my sleeve and wrapped it roughly around the injury, then pulled out the photograph from inside my jacket.
The edges were badly worn, but the three young faces were still clear enough. I stared at the guy in the middle—the one dressed like he had his shit together—and suddenly laughed out loud.
"Rowan, oh Rowan," I muttered to the photograph, "the Wind Shard still led my son straight to your daughter."
My laughter echoed through the empty forest, sounding slightly unhinged.
Even I found it absurd—when the three of us stood shoulder to shoulder for this picture twenty years ago, who could have imagined things would turn out like this? Rowan was dead, I'd become a rat hiding in the shadows, and Quillan, that bastard...
My gaze shifted to the man standing beside Rowan in the photo—the one who looked too polished, too perfect. Quillan Rhodes. When he'd first approached Rowan all those years ago, flashing his title as "President of the Explorer's Association," I'd known something was off about the son of a bitch. Turned out my instincts were right on the fucking money.
The smile gradually faded from my face. I stared at Quillan's features in the photograph, hatred burning in my eyes like fire.
It was this bastard who dragged us all down. Because of him, Rowan died, my family was destroyed, and those cursed treasures...
"Kids," I said quietly, my voice rough in the night wind, "this is our generation's mess. I won't let you get dragged into it."
Even as I spoke the words, I tasted their irony. Jax was already in it—wearing that damned earring, while Celeste wore that cursed ring.
The Wind Shards had already recognized them, just like they'd recognized Rowan and me all those years ago.
I leaned against the cold rock wall and closed my eyes. Memories flooded back like a rising tide.
---
When I was twenty, I fought in underground boxing rings down at the harbor district. Every night, people placed bets on how many rounds I'd last. My job was simple—beat my opponent into the ground, or get beaten into it myself. Back then, I was covered in bruises, my pockets were always empty, but at least I was alive.
That's where Rowan found me.
He wore decent clothes that looked completely out of place in that blood-and-sweat-stinking ring. I'd just won a match and was bandaging my wounds in a corner when he walked over and said straight out, "Gideon, be my first mate again. I found a lead."
I looked up at him, almost convinced I'd heard wrong. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" I said. "Last time we went to sea, we both lost everything. Where the hell are you getting money to try again?"
Rowan smiled mysteriously, didn't answer directly. "Come with me," he said. "Someone wants to meet you."
---
That "someone" was Quillan Rhodes.
He was waiting for us in a private room at an upscale tavern, the table set with fine wine and food. The moment I walked in, something felt wrong—this kind of place wasn't meant for bottom-feeder wolves like us.
Quillan stood up to shake my hand, his smile so warm it made me uncomfortable. "I've heard so much about you, Mr. Gideon," he said. "Rowan speaks of you often."
"Cut the bullshit," I interrupted him. "What do you want from us?"
Quillan didn't seem offended at all. If anything, his smile widened. He gestured for us to sit, then launched into his high-minded speech—something about "supporting young explorers' dreams" and "advancing society's progress." It made me want to puke.
But Rowan listened with stars in his eyes. "The President is willing to fund our expedition," he said excitedly. "This time we'll definitely find it!"
I watched Rowan's face, completely taken in by the con, and my heart sank. When Quillan left the room to "handle some paperwork," I lowered my voice and said to Rowan, "This President's motives can't be that pure. Nothing falls from the sky for free. If he's willing to put up money, he definitely wants something from us."
"You're overthinking it," Rowan dismissed me. "President Quillan genuinely wants to help us."
I looked at his young, stubborn face and finally said nothing.
Some people, you can't wake them up.
---
The day we set sail, the weather was unnaturally perfect. I stood on deck, watching Rowan direct the sailors to prepare for departure, an uneasy feeling gnawing at my gut.
Sure enough, we hit a storm on the third day.
Waves rose like mountains, tossing the ship until it nearly capsized. Rowan stood on deck, rain streaming down his face, still shouting, "Hold steady! The treasure's not far ahead! Once we get through this storm, we can—"
"Fuck the treasure!" one of the sailors suddenly roared. "I'm done! Turn this ship around!"
Several other sailors joined in. Rowan's face went iron-gray, but they'd stopped listening to him.
I glanced at the would-be mutineers, sighed, then walked over and punched the ringleader in the face. He dropped like a stone. I stepped on his chest and said coldly, "Anyone else want to turn around?"
No one dared make a sound.
Rowan looked at me, something complicated flickering in his eyes. But he said nothing, just turned back to directing the ship forward.
---
We eventually found the island.
It was hidden in deep-sea fog, nearly impossible to discover. On the island stood an ancient cave, its entrance carved with symbols I couldn't understand. Rowan walked in like a man possessed, clutching his map and notes. I followed behind him, weapon gripped tight in my hand.
The cave ran deep, growing darker the further we went. We lit torches, our feet slipping on wet stone. Suddenly, light appeared ahead—not firelight, but an eerie green glow.
Rowan stopped in his tracks, drawing in a sharp breath.
I stepped up beside him and froze too.
On a stone platform in the cave's deepest chamber sat two objects—an emerald pendant and an emerald ring. They lay there quietly, emanating a soft green light, as if breathing.
"The Wind Lord's Shards..." Rowan murmured. "The Speed Shard and the Breath Shard..."
"They've been waiting for their masters," Rowan said, his eyes gleaming with fervor.
I reached out to grab the pendant, but the moment I touched it, a powerful force threw me back.
Rowan tried too, with the same result. We attempted everything—wrapping them in cloth, using tools to grip them, even reciting incantations Rowan had found in ancient texts. Nothing worked.
Just as we were about to give up, Rowan suddenly said, "Maybe... we need to take them at the same time?"
So we each reached out and grasped one.
This time, the repelling force vanished. The pendant and ring settled quietly in our hands, their green glow gradually dimming, as if accepting us.
"We did it!" Rowan's face flushed with excitement. "We actually got them!"
I looked down at the heavy pendant in my palm, an indescribable unease rising in my chest.
This had been too easy. Too easy to be right. But seeing Rowan's ecstatic expression, I swallowed all my doubts.
We carefully stored both Shards and left the island.
Neither of us realized that taking these two treasures would be the beginning of every nightmare to come.
---
I opened my eyes and found my face wet with tears I hadn't noticed falling.
"Rowan," I said to the darkness, "that was the beginning of all this evil. We found the treasure, but we also found the curse."
"Jax," I whispered, "forgive your father. What I owe you, I can never repay in this lifetime."
I tucked the photograph away and stood up. The wound on my calf was still bleeding, but I couldn't worry about that now.
I had to leave this place. I had to end this before Jax got pulled in any deeper.
I'd made my decision. I was going to kill Quillan. Quillan Rhodes.
I thought my avoidance would quiet his hunger. I was wrong.
Only death could do that.
Under the moonlight, a massive brown wolf vanished once more into the forest depths. This time, not even a shadow remained.