Chapter 100 Hidden Anchors
Elara's POV
I stood in Pack House's rear gardens, just outside the gazebo's entrance, my black ironwood staff held in my right hand as my left moved through the intricate finger positions of the Guardian's sensing seal. The moonstone set into the staff's crown blazed with silvery-white radiance, its light bending and shifting until it pointed directly toward the gazebo's central decorative pillar like a compass needle finding true north.
I swept the staff in another slow arc to confirm the reading, then lowered my hand and stared at the stone column. "The magical signature coming from this pillar is wrong. There's definitely something hidden inside it."
The crunch of gravel announced Damian's approach before his voice reached me. "Elara? What are you doing out here?"
I turned to face my brother as he stepped closer. "I detected an anomaly during my routine sweep. This pillar is radiating corrupted energy."
"You're certain?"
"Absolutely." I was already reaching for my phone. "I need Beta Albert to bring tools and workers to remove the decorative shell."
Within minutes, Albert appeared, though his weathered face showed clear confusion. "Miss Sterling, may I ask what seems to be the problem with this particular column?"
Before I could answer, Damian's voice cut through the air with absolute authority. "My sister says there's a problem, Albert, which means there is definitely a problem."
Albert's confusion melted into immediate compliance, but he'd barely turned to leave when Dad's commanding presence materialized from the direction of the east wing. He took in the scene with one sweeping glance, then called out to Albert. "Bring several warriors and craftsmen with proper demolition equipment. If my daughter finds other problematic locations, I want them dealt with immediately."
"Yes, Alpha."
The work crew arrived quickly—six warriors flanking three craftsmen, one carrying a professional-grade demolition toolkit. The lead craftsman, a stocky man named Henrik, approached the pillar and began removing the ornamental shell piece by piece. When he switched to a heavier sledgehammer to break through the inner layer, the first strike sent hairline cracks spider-webbing across the surface.
Three more blows, and the inner layer crumbled away to expose a hollow cavity. What tumbled out into Henrik's hands made everyone present go still. A battered cloth doll lay in his palms, its fabric body wrapped tight with black iron wire, the Sterling family crest embroidered on its chest in tarnished silver thread, and two rusted steel nails driven through where eyes should have been. Despite its worn condition, the thing radiated a sickly dark-red magical aura.
Albert's sharp intake of breath cut through the silence. "This pillar was installed three years ago during the gazebo renovation—how in God's name could something like this be inside it?!"
I set my staff aside and reached for one of the silver sealing talismans from my jacket pocket. As I pressed the paper against the doll's corrupted surface, I began the low chant of containment in the Old Tongue, feeling the ancient words shape reality around the cursed object until the dark-red aura flickered and died. Only when the seal had fully activated did I carefully tuck the neutralized curse anchor into a warded pouch at my belt.
What followed was a systematic hunt through the Pack House. My staff's moonstone glow pointed unerringly toward each hidden corruption. We found a blood-stained parchment scroll wedged behind a false panel in the library's topmost shelf, its surface covered in curse formulae written in dried blood mixed with ash. Fragments of burial shroud stuffed into ventilation grates radiated the cold emptiness of grave-dirt. Collections of curse-inscribed iron nails had been driven deep into walls at precise intervals throughout the manor's main wings.
The worst discovery came from Ryan's bedroom. Henrik's careful demolition of the wall beside the headboard revealed a single massive curse nail driven so deep into the structural support beam that extracting it required a crowbar and significant force.
Dad's face had gone glacial as he stared at the hole in his wall. "I thought Aurora had truly left. I was clearly mistaken."
In the library's top floor, we found a blood-stained parchment scroll brazenly hidden in a bookshelf's false compartment.
Damian's expression had taken on dangerous calm. "The locations are too strategic to be random. These things are either in places visible but ignored during routine cleaning, or hidden in high corners and false spaces that housekeeping never reaches. The methodology matches the cursed doll perfectly, and the only person with both the access and the knowledge to place these objects where they'd remain undetected is Aurora."
His gaze shifted to Dad with absolute certainty. "Father, as of today, we completely sever all remaining connections between the Sterling family and Aurora—every single tie."
"Agreed," Dad replied with cold finality.
By the time we'd finished the search, I had collected seven distinct curse objects, each one now safely sealed in my warded pouch. I stood in Dad's private study and used a minor levitation charm to sketch out the estate's floor plan in glowing silver lines that hung suspended in the air.
With careful precision, I marked each location where we'd found a curse anchor, watching as the pattern emerged. "Based on the positioning of these objects, this appears to be a fate-draining grand array designed to siphon destiny energy from the Sterling family as a whole. The array is incomplete, though—the central anchor point is empty, which means whoever designed this hasn't completed the final step yet."
I let the magical diagram fade as I turned to face Dad directly. "There's something parasitic inside Aurora—some kind of ancient entity. My theory is that what she wanted to claim was the Sterling family's entire accumulated destiny and fortune—the collective fate energy of our entire bloodline."
Dad's fist slammed down on his desk with enough force to crack the heavy oak surface, his Alpha presence exploding outward in a wave of pure dominance that made the windows rattle. "She wanted to drain the Sterling family's destiny?! How DARE she?!"
I held my ground against the overwhelming pressure of his rage, keeping my spine straight and my expression calm. "She wouldn't dare attempt this alone, Father—and she couldn't accomplish it without help."
Dad's presence slowly retracted as he fought for control, his breathing harsh and his eyes still burning gold. "Then who?"
"The parasitic entity inside Aurora radiates a magical signature unlike anything I've encountered. It feels ancient, sophisticated, and deeply malevolent." I paused. "Aurora's parasite—I suspect it's some kind of puppet left behind by a dark magic master."
"The entity's magical signature is different from anything I've dealt with before. I'm not certain whether I can deal with it using conventional methods." I held his gaze steadily. "Before I find a method to completely extract and destroy the parasite, acting rashly might alert whoever's behind this and cause them to transfer it to a new host."
"Then what do you propose?"
"Entities capable of parasitizing hosts typically maintain psychic connection with their vessels. This means anything Aurora knows, the parasite likely knows as well." I let that sink in. "These types of parasitic entities—trying to deal with them will inevitably harm the host, meaning Aurora herself."
I continued. "Here's the worst-case scenario—even if the host dies, the entity might survive completely unharmed and escape to find the next suitable vessel."
"Aurora is just one piece—probably just a pawn or intermediary for the parasite. Without Aurora, there will be a second, a third puppet." I straightened my shoulders. "I need the family's cooperation to prepare."
Dad studied me for a long moment, then nodded with absolute finality. "Then we'll do exactly as you say. On the family side, you don't need to worry about anything."
Something in his immediate support cracked through my professional distance, and I felt my expression soften into a genuine smile. "With you handling things, Dad, I truly don't need to worry."
From his position near the window, Damian made a soft sound of amusement, and when I glanced over I found him watching me with that particular warm smile. "And with my brother here too," I added.
"Always," Damian confirmed simply.
I carefully secured the pouch of sealed curse objects in my jacket's inner pocket. "I'm going to return to my room and properly store these objects under maximum containment wards. As for Ryan's situation—I'll leave that entirely in your hands, Brother."
Damian's expression shifted to something grimmer but determined. "Consider it handled."
---
The next day, I requested another day off from the academy. I needed to use my staff to sense the magical state of the parasite inside Aurora's body, to find clues that might help track down whoever was behind all this.
As I approached Aurora's apartment building, I could see from a distance that a group of people had gathered at the entrance. Among them was Nolan, who had rushed back from out of town this morning. Instead of returning to the pack house first, he'd come straight here.
Nolan stood with Aurora positioned firmly behind him, his face set in hard lines as he faced an angry family of three neighbors. The girl opposite him looked about ten years old, crying as she hurled accusations, and her right wrist caught my attention immediately—a ring of horrifying blisters circled the skin, some already burst and weeping, their edges tinged with an eerie dark purple color.
The little girl pointed at Aurora with her healthy left hand, her voice breaking with sobs. "It was you! You did something to the bracelet you gave me! I only wore it for half a day, and this morning my wrist was covered in blisters! It hurt so much I couldn't sleep all night! You must have cursed the bracelet—how can you be so evil?!"