Chapter 9 BEHIND THE CLOSED DOOR
Magnus’ POV
The air in my strategy room feels heavier tonight. Not because the small fireplace in the corner died faster than usual, not because the stone walls seem to swallow the light—but because something has awakened, and whatever it is, it’s not small.
I sit at the end of the long blackwood table, my fingers tapping the surface in an impatient rhythm. Dareth and Lorian stand in front of me. The scent of wet earth hangs thick in the room.
But there’s something else too—something that doesn’t belong to this castle.
Something… red.
Varon, the wolf inside me, growls faintly.
“She still smells like you. But there’s something that isn’t you.”
I ignore him. For now.
“What did you find?” I finally ask, my voice sharper than I intended.
Dareth answers first. My Beta is not the type to drag things out when it’s something this important.
“The guards reported a heat wave across three hallways on the west side,” he says as he opens a black folder. “Not fire heat. More like… pressure. A push. Like something moved through the air and pressed from the inside.”
Lorian cuts in, leaning one hand on the table. “And the wave came from Evra’s room.”
Just her name is enough to make my blood stir.
I don’t like that.
I don’t like them saying her name in the same sentence as ‘heat wave’ and ‘anomaly.’
“Worse,” Dareth continues, “some guards suddenly lost focus. They said they heard whispers, but none of them understood the language.”
My back muscles tense.
“Whispers?” I repeat.
“Yes, Magnus,” Dareth says. “Whispers that made their skin crawl. One of them even threw up afterward.”
Varon shifts inside my head—not anxious, but… interested.
“She’s calling. For us, Magnus.”
I clench my fist.
Not the right time for my wolf to get ideas.
Lorian steps closer and sets an old rolled parchment on the table. It contains his quick notes about the energy Evra released during the Hidden Circle examination.
“I’ve analyzed the residue,” he says. “And this… isn’t ordinary blood magic.”
“Explain.”
I need words. Details. Certainty. Not assumptions.
Lorian nods slowly. “Witch energy normally has three traits: cold, focused, and finely threaded. But this one—the one Evra released—is hot, dense, and almost… pulsing.”
“Pulsing?” Dareth repeats skeptically.
“Yeah. Like something alive. Something searching.”
I don’t like where this is going.
Lorian exhales. “I can’t confirm its source without deeper investigation. But… this is far beyond blood magic. Older, deeper, and definitely more dangerous.”
I rise from my seat.
No one speaks, but I can feel their tension. Even the small fireplace crackling seems to quiet down as the room grows heavier.
“Hidden Circle called her—” I stop. My jaw tightens.
“‘Specimen,’” Dareth finishes.
The word sparks something sharp and cold inside me.
Varon snarls.
“I should rip their tongues out.”
I take a slow breath to steady myself. “Evra is not an object. Not a thing. And I don’t like the way they treat her like she’s just something to study.”
Lorian lowers his gaze. “They don’t understand anything about her, Magnus.”
His tone is gentle, but firm. “Or about what’s actually happening.”
I look at the parchment on the table—symbols Lorian drew, red threads curling around something much larger.
“Whatever has awakened inside her,” Lorian continues, “isn’t something the Hidden Circle can handle safely.”
“I know,” I murmur.
Dareth slides his hands into his coat pockets. “Magnus… what’s your plan?”
It should be a simple question. But tonight, nothing is simple.
I look at the two men I trust the most.
Dareth, my Beta—the unshakable pillar of our pack’s strength and moral ground.
Lorian, my Gamma—the strategist, the calm mind that tempers storms.
They wait for me.
“I don’t want Evra leaving the west wing,” I finally say. “Not until I understand what’s inside her. Not until I know whether that energy can harm her… us… or the Pack.”
Dareth nods. “Understood.”
Lorian watches me for a moment. “Magnus… you know she won’t take that well. She’ll feel trapped.”
“I know.”
And it kills me.
Because the deepest part of me—the part named Varon—wants to trap her even more. Hide her. Lock her away from everyone who isn’t me.
But I’m not just a wolf. I’m an Alpha. A leader. And I can’t let possessive instincts rot my judgment.
Lorian picks up another parchment. “There’s something else.”
I look at him.
He unrolls it and shows a rough sketch based on Lyris’ magic reading—the resonance circle of Evra’s energy.
The symbol looks like an eye.
Or a door.
Or… a window.
“I think the energy is searching for something,” Lorian says softly.
“What?” Dareth asks.
“No idea.” Lorian shakes his head. “But whatever it is… the direction points to Magnus.”
I freeze.
So does Dareth.
The room goes silent for several seconds.
Until Dareth finally speaks, stiff-voiced, “You mean she—Evra—is energetically connected to the Alpha?”
“No,” Lorian says. “Not a bond.” He looks at me. “More like… recognition. As if her energy knows Magnus. Or is searching for something only he has.”
Varon rumbles with satisfaction.
“See? She is ours.”
I grit my teeth, stopping the growl building in my chest.
Dareth looks at me, worried. “Magnus, you don’t feel it?”
“Of course I feel it,” I snap. “From the moment I touched her, something… moved.”
Lorian and Dareth exchange a look.
“I’ll place extra guards in the outer corridor,” Dareth says. “No uniforms. No noise. They report only to me.”
“You think someone’s coming?” I ask.
“Not someone,” Dareth replies. “I’m certain the Hidden Circle will return. And they won’t be satisfied with just an inspection.”
He’s right.
Seran Thorne isn’t the type to walk away after seeing a rare anomaly like Evra.
I inhale slowly, trying to calm the heat burning in my chest. But it doesn’t fade. It grows.
Varon pushes forward, trying to take over.
“Go to her. She’s alone. She’s scared.”
“Shut up,” I snarl in my head.
But my wolf doesn’t stop.
“You’re scared of losing her too.”
A quiet groan slips out.
Lorian watches me closely. “Magnus… you’re unstable right now. Let me or Dareth check on Evra—”
“No.” My voice comes out faster and sharper than I meant.
Both fall silent.
I drag a hand down my face. “Sorry. I mean… it’s not necessary. I’ll check on her myself.”
Dareth and Lorian share another look. Not doubtful—understanding.
They know something in me changed the moment Evra arrived, the moment she collapsed, the moment her energy touched me.
“We’ll guard the perimeter,” Dareth says at last. “If anyone approaches without your permission, they won’t make it past us.”
“Send your best,” I say.
“Already did.”
Lorian rolls up the parchments and tucks them into his Gamma folder.
“Magnus… be careful. That energy isn’t as simple as we thought.”
When they leave, I stand alone in the center of the strategy room. Firelight casts long shadows across the black marble floor.
The silence presses against my chest.
Varon surfaces again, louder, clearer.
“She’s calling you.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“She’s calling you.”
The echo is stronger than before.
I close my eyes.
Behind my eyelids, I feel something that isn’t mine.
A small pull. A gentle current brushing along my ribs.
A thin call—too faint to be a voice, too real to ignore.
Evra.
My eyes open.
I don’t hear her call—not a sound, not words.
But I feel it, like a thread tugging at the deepest part of me, the place where Varon breathes.
I leave the room immediately.
The castle halls are dark from the late hour. Only torches flicker every few meters. My footsteps echo off the stone walls.
And the closer I get to Evra’s room… the stronger the pull becomes.
Like a red thread urging me forward.
My pace quickens without me noticing. Then I stop right in front of her door.
The thread—the pull—throbs once inside my chest.
Varon whispers, trembling with something that’s not anger, not aggression.
But recognition.
“She’s calling you again.”