Chapter 20

The night pressed heavily against the stone walls of Lena’s cell, the kind of darkness that seemed alive, creeping into every corner and stealing the warmth from the air. Outside, the occasional howl of a wolf punctuated the silence, a haunting reminder of the uneasy alliance her pack had entered.

Lena sat with her knees pulled to her chest, her back against the rough wall. The dim glow of the artifact in the corner was the only light in the room, its faint hum like a heartbeat—steady, insistent, and impossible to ignore. She couldn’t sleep. Every time her eyes closed, Kallus’s cold stare lingered in her mind. His words had been harsh, but his tone had held something deeper: hatred.

Why? she wondered.

This wasn’t just about territory or power. There was something older, something personal in the way Kallus had spoken to her. It was the same bitterness she had seen in Darius’s eyes after Kira’s death, the kind that could fester into something dangerous if left unchecked.

The artifact pulsed again, its glow intensifying for a moment before dimming. Lena’s eyes snapped to it, her chest tightening. She didn’t fully understand the artifact’s power, but she knew one thing: it always acted with purpose.

“Show me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “If you have answers, show me.”

As if in response, the artifact flared to life, filling the room with a golden light that washed over Lena like a wave. Her eyelids grew heavy, and before she could resist, the world around her dissolved into shadows and light.

When her vision cleared, Lena found herself standing in a lush forest bathed in twilight. The air was thick with the scent of pine and earth, and the distant sound of running water echoed softly. She turned slowly, her heart racing.

“Where am I?” she murmured.

A voice, deep and resonant, answered her. “In the memories of the past.”

Lena spun around and came face-to-face with a towering wolf, its silver fur gleaming like moonlight. Its eyes, a piercing gold, seemed to hold the weight of centuries.

“Who are you?” Lena asked, her voice trembling.

“I am Fenros,” the wolf replied, his tone calm but heavy with sorrow. “The first alpha. The artifact you carry was once mine.”

Lena’s breath caught. She had seen Fenros in the visions before, but standing before him now, he felt impossibly real.

“Why are you showing me this?” she asked.

“Because the wounds of the past still bleed in the present,” Fenros said. “You must understand what happened here to prevent it from happening again.”

Before Lena could ask more, the forest around her began to shift. The trees swayed unnaturally, their branches twisting as images played out before her like a living tapestry.

She saw two packs, side by side, their wolves mingling freely. There was laughter, shared hunts, and howls of unity that echoed through the night. At their center stood Fenros, the artifact glowing around his neck.

“These two packs were once one,” Fenros explained. “Bound by blood, by loyalty, by love.”

The scene changed, darkening as the laughter faded. Two wolves emerged—one with silver fur like Fenros, the other with jet-black fur and piercing blue eyes.

“My sons,” Fenros said, his voice filled with pain. “Auron and Veyra. They were meant to lead together, to uphold the unity I fought so hard to build. But envy and grief tore them apart.”

Lena watched as the two brothers stood at odds, their voices raised in anger. The artifact, now held by Fenros, seemed to glow brighter, as if reacting to the growing tension.

“What happened?” Lena asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“A hunt went wrong,” Fenros said. “Auron led the charge, but it was Veyra’s mate who fell. Veyra blamed his brother, consumed by grief and anger. He accused Auron of recklessness, of betrayal. Their bond fractured, and so did the pack.”

The images shifted again, showing the two brothers leading their respective factions away from each other. The unity they once shared crumbled like dry leaves underfoot.

“And the artifact?” Lena asked.

“I gave it to Auron,” Fenros said. “I believed he would use it to restore what was lost. But Veyra saw it as a betrayal—a symbol of favoritism. The bitterness between them festered, passed down through generations.”

Lena’s chest tightened as the scenes grew darker, showing battles, bloodshed, and wolves turning on one another.

“This pack,” she said, realization dawning. “Kallus’s pack. They’re Veyra’s descendants, aren’t they?”

Fenros nodded solemnly. “And your pack descends from Auron’s line. The animosity you face now is the shadow of the wounds they inflicted on each other. History repeats itself, Lena. Unless you choose to end it.”

The forest began to dissolve around her, the light of the artifact growing brighter until it was all she could see.

Lena awoke with a start, her breath coming in short gasps. The dim light of her cell greeted her, the artifact’s glow faint but steady in the corner. She pressed a hand to her chest, the weight of the vision settling over her like a heavy cloak.

“It’s the same,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “What happened to them… it’s happening to us.”

The parallels were undeniable. Just as Fenros’s sons had been torn apart by grief and blame, so had she and Darius. Kira’s death had fractured them, and now, that same bitterness threatened to consume their packs.

But it didn’t have to.

Lena rose to her feet, her resolve hardening. She walked to the artifact and picked it up, its warmth seeping into her palms.

“I won’t let this happen again,” she said, her voice firm.

The artifact pulsed in response, as if acknowledging her decision.

Lena turned toward the barred door of her cell, her hazel eyes blazing with determination. The cost of unity was high, but it was a price she was willing to pay. She would not let the shadows of the past dictate the future.

Whatever it took, she would heal the rift between their packs—and maybe, just maybe, between herself and Darius.