Chapter 126 Hundred and thirty one
“Ryder, they’re getting closer,” Sienna said, breath shaking as the forest opened into a stretch of broken stone half-swallowed by roots. “We can’t outrun them all night.”
“Then we don’t outrun them,” Ryder answered, pulling her to the right toward a wall cracked by centuries. “We outsmart them.”
“And your plan is… what, exactly?” she asked, though her voice softened with something dangerously close to trust.
“To vanish where no sane wolf goes.”
“That doesn’t answer anything.”
“It’s not supposed to.”
The ruins rose before them like the bones of a forgotten giant, jagged pillars and shattered archways leaning under the moonlight. It didn’t matter that she’d never seen this place; something in her skin knew it. Recognized it. Responded to it. Her breath caught as a pulse rolled through the air, soft and ancient, like a heartbeat buried under stone.
“Ryder,” she whispered, “what is this place?”
He didn’t look at her. He just pushed aside brambles and led her through a broken arch. “The old temple grounds. The first temple, before the Moon Court existed. Before the goddess chose her line.”
“And why here?”
“Because they won’t follow us inside.” His jaw tightened. “They’re afraid of what sleeps here.”
She almost laughed despite the danger. “And you’re not?”
“I’m terrified,” he said simply. “But I trust what’s inside more than I trust the rebels on our heels.”
The blunt honesty stole her breath.
Before she could respond, a howl tore through the trees, shrill, sharp, too close.
Sienna flinched. “They’ve found our trail.”
“No,” Ryder murmured, pulling her deeper. “They’re announcing they’ve lost it.”
She blinked at him. “What do you mean?”
He pointed to the ground. Their footprints stopped just beyond the archway. Her scent vanished. His scent vanished. The air inside the ruins held nothing of them. It was as though the place swallowed their presence whole.
Sienna exhaled in disbelief. “It’s like the forest doesn’t know we’re here.”
“The forest doesn’t,” he said. A muscle in his jaw jumped. “But something else does.”
“Something else?”
He didn’t answer.
They stepped into what used to be a courtyard, broken stone floors, a half-collapsed fountain, vines creeping over every surface. Sienna felt the weight of centuries pressing down on them, heavy but not hostile, more curious than dangerous.
“This place…” she breathed. “It feels alive.”
“It is,” Ryder murmured.
Before she could speak, the ground trembled lightly beneath their feet. Not enough to threaten them, just enough to warn.
Sienna grabbed his arm. “Ryder, ”
“I know.” He pulled her close as dust drifted down from an overhead beam. “It’s just the ruins shifting.”
“No,” she whispered. “That wasn’t stone. That was breath.”
He stiffened.
Another tremor rolled through the ground, longer, softer, like an inhale.
“Sienna,” he said quietly, “don’t move.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re standing on something that used to be sacred. And it’s waking up.”
She swallowed, trying not to show fear. “And your brilliant idea was to bring us here?”
“It was either this,” he said dryly, “or let a legion of rebels catch us while you’re exhausted and I’m half-cursed.”
“So the haunted ruins were the better option.”
“For us? Yes.”
A pause.
“Ryder?”
“What.”
“If we die because you chose the creepy option, I’ll haunt you.”
“You already haunt me.”
Her breath hitched.
He didn’t retract the words. Didn’t soften them. Didn’t turn away.
Instead, he moved toward the center of the courtyard and knelt, touching a symbol carved into the stone, a faded crescent wrapped in an old script that glowed faintly when his fingers brushed it.
Sienna watched the faint light shimmer under his palm. “How do you know this place?”
“I don’t,” he said. “My wolf does.”
“What do you mean?”
He looked up at her, and for a heartbeat he didn’t look like a man, he looked like something far older. “This curse inside me… it comes from the first bloodlines. The wolves who served the goddess before there were kingdoms. When I get close to places like this, the memories burn through me.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“You had enough to carry.”
She stepped closer, voice tight and trembling. “I wanted to carry you too.”
He stood slowly, eyes softening. “I know.”
Before he could say more, a roar erupted outside the ruins, multiple wolves, running, hunting, desperate.
Sienna’s pulse kicked. “They’re circling.”
“They won’t enter,” Ryder said again, but his voice carried uncertainty this time. “They fear the old magic.”
“And what if fear isn’t enough?”
“Then we make sure they regret stepping foot inside.”
The air shifted around them. A wind rose from nowhere, swirling dust and leaves into a slow spiral. Sienna turned in a full circle, hair brushing her cheeks as the wind tugged at her clothing.
“Ryder,” she whispered, “what’s happening?”
He clenched his fists. “The temple recognizes you.”
She froze. “Why me?”
“Because you carry her.”
“Lunaris?” she breathed.
He nodded once.
A cold ripple trickled down her spine.
The ground trembled again, longer this time, and the moonlight above flickered violently. The ruined walls glowed faintly, the carvings illuminating in pale silver lines. Something ancient stirred beneath the earth, like the turning of a great stone wheel.
“Ryder,” she said tightly, “this doesn’t feel like protection anymore.”
“It’s reacting to your presence,” he said. “Not mine.”
“That does not make me feel better.”
“It wasn’t meant to.”
Another roar echoed outside, closer, too close, followed by the crunch of armored boots. Human voices joined the wolves.
“They’re coming,” Sienna whispered. “They’re searching every inch.”
Ryder grabbed her hand again. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“Down.”
“Down where?”
He pulled aside a massive slab of stone covered in vines, revealing a spiral staircase descending into darkness.
“Ryder, ”
“Trust me.”
“You always say that right before something terrible happens.”
“Then you should be used to it by now.”
She huffed out a breath that might’ve been a laugh if they weren’t seconds from death. “Fine. But if we die, I’m holding you responsible.”
“I’ll take the blame,” he murmured, brushing a thumb across her knuckles. “Just stay close.”
They descended into the darkness.
The stairs twisted deeper than she expected, the air cooling with each step, whispering along the walls like the remnants of prayers long forgotten. The deeper they went, the louder the tremors grew, not dangerous, not violent, but insistent, like something calling her name through layers of earth.
“Sienna,” Ryder said quietly behind her, “don’t answer it.”
“I’m not speaking.”
“You’re thinking too loud.”
“How do you know?”
“I feel it.”
Her breath caught, not from fear this time. From the way he said it. Raw. Honest. As if her thoughts lived in his blood.
When they reached the bottom, the staircase opened into a vast chamber lit by the same soft, unnatural glow from above. The air thrummed with energy, old, lunar, thrumming like a heartbeat.
At the center of the chamber stood a massive stone altar, cracked but still humming faintly with silver light.
Sienna stepped forward slowly. “What is this?”
Ryder’s voice dropped to a whisper. “The place where the first vows were made.”
“What vows?”
“The ones binding wolves to the goddess.” His breath shivered. “The ones binding lovers in blood and fate.”
Her heart tripped.
“Ryder…”
He stepped closer, lifting her hand gently. “We shouldn’t be here. But the temple chose you. And if the goddess is watching, she’ll come. You know she will.”
“And if she comes?” Sienna asked.
He met her eyes.
“Then we ask for a different ending.”
Before she could speak,
A rumble tore through the chamber.
A crack split the floor beneath the altar.
Silver light erupted upward, blinding and violent, swirling around them with the force of a storm.
Sienna gasped, clutching Ryder’s arm. “She’s here.”
Ryder pulled her against him.
And the chamber exploded in light.