Chapter 149: The Obsidian Gate
Chapter 149: The Obsidian Gate
The moment I stepped onto the obsidian sands, the world changed.
Time seemed to slow, air thickened with the pull of magic so old, it hummed beneath my skin like a second heartbeat. The sea roared behind me, waves crashing against jagged cliffs. Ahead, the Fangborn gathered around the nearly completed gate, black-robed figures moving in rhythm, their chants low and fevered.
The final gate.
The last tether to the Hollowed One.
If they succeeded, everything we’d fought for—everything we’d lost—would be undone in a single breath.
Alec stepped up beside me, his eyes fixed on the glowing runes spiraling above the stone circle. “We do this together. No one breaks formation unless I say.”
Logan and Daria moved silently into flanking positions, their blades drawn and glowing with enchantments from Seris, who now stood behind us, murmuring protective runes into the wind.
The plan was simple.
Disrupt the ritual.
Destroy the blood anchors.
And pray that I, the Seal-Bearer, was enough to contain what the Fangborn had already summoned.
⸻
The Fangborn saw us.
The first blast of magic came like a lightning bolt—serrated wind that tore across the sand toward us. Alec lunged forward, shield raised, absorbing the impact with a grunt. Sparks burst across the air where his shield met the spell.
I raised my hand, and the rune on my palm flared to life. A pulse of lunar energy burst forward, slamming into the closest cultist and sending him sprawling into the stones. The others hissed like feral beasts.
“They’ve been feeding off the seal’s energy!” Seris yelled behind me. “That’s why the ritual is working!”
“They’re using me?” I shouted, fury rising like a tide.
“Yes. But you can use it back.”
I gritted my teeth. “Then let’s take it back.”
⸻
We surged forward.
Daria danced between two Fangborn warriors, her twin blades a blur of silver and flame. Logan dropped another with a bolt to the throat, then a second with a knife to the chest. Alec and I pressed toward the center, where the obsidian stones shimmered with growing magic.
A massive figure stepped in our path.
Taller than any wolf I’d ever seen, his robes embroidered with the seal’s symbol—twisted and corrupted. His face was hidden, but his voice cut through the chaos.
“You are too late, child of the seal.”
“Funny,” I growled, “I was about to say the same to you.”
He raised a hand.
The ground split beneath us.
A wave of dark magic surged up, aiming for my chest.
Alec shoved me out of the way and took the full brunt of the blast.
“Alec!” I screamed.
He crashed into the sand, unmoving.
Rage ignited in me like wildfire.
The seal on my chest glowed white-hot.
The wind whipped around me, the obsidian stones vibrating with power.
I stood tall.
I was done running.
⸻
The leader of the Fangborn stepped forward, revealing his face.
It was Elarin—once a councilman of a northern pack. A traitor. A wolf who had once fought beside our kind and turned when he saw power in the darkness.
“You are but a vessel,” he sneered. “The seal should not have chosen you.”
I raised my hand, and light burst from my palm, searing across the battlefield.
“I wasn’t chosen,” I snarled. “I survived.”
And then I ran toward him.
⸻
The battle blurred.
I struck with every part of myself—sword, seal, heart.
Elarin met me with dark magic, striking again and again, each hit testing my strength. I stumbled, rolled, caught him off guard with a slash across his ribs. He roared, claws slashing my shoulder.
Pain blossomed—but I didn’t stop.
Not until Alec’s groan reached my ears.
He was alive.
Bleeding, but alive.
That was all I needed.
I drove the moonfire dagger—Kael’s gift—into Elarin’s chest.
His scream tore across the cliffs.
The runes exploded.
The seal pulsed once—twice—and then flared with blinding white light.
The gate shattered.
The ritual collapsed.
And with it, the Fangborn scattered.
⸻
Silence fell over the beach.
Ash drifted in the wind, glowing like stars.
I dropped to my knees beside Alec.
His eyes opened slowly, and he smiled, even through the blood on his lips. “Told you we’d finish this together.”
I brushed hair from his forehead. “You’re not dying. I won’t let you.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
⸻
By nightfall, the threat had passed.
The final gate was destroyed.
The Hollowed One’s return had been stopped.
But the war wasn’t over.
Not yet.
Because I’d felt something in that last blast of magic—something stirring beneath the surface of the world. A deeper darkness. A buried truth.
One we weren’t ready for.
Not yet.
But soon.