Chapter 15 Fifteen
Lilith
Before dawn, the manor shuddered in its sleep. I woke to the whisper of shifting stone and the sigh of wind.
Ryan entered carrying a travel pack and a long, hooded cloak. “It’s time,” he said.
“The council?” “They’ll convene at sunrise. By mid-morning the valley will be closed.”
He handed me the cloak. “Put this on. We’ll take the tunnels.”
The tunnel beyond was narrow, the walls slick with condensation. I followed close, the hem of my cloak whispering across the stone.
After a while the torchlight behind us faded. Only the faint shimmer of symbols carved into the walls lit our way.
Each time I passed one, it flickered brighter, like a pulse recognizing its kin.
Ryan glanced back once. “You’re waking them.”
We walked in silence for what felt like hours.
When the tunnel finally widened, I stopped short. A cavern opened before us, vast enough to hold the manor itself.
Ryan approached the pillar and placed his hand upon it. “These marks were made by our ancestors when they sealed the first gate. It’s said that beyond the mountain lies the heart of the old world.”
“If the council finds you, they’ll bind your power to the pack’s will. They call it protection. It’s a leash.”
I swallowed. “And you?”
“I’ll break the leash before they fasten it.”
The whisper in my mind stirred, not words this time but warning.
“Someone follows,” I murmured.
Ryan drew a blade.
The tunnel narrowed, then split into two passages. Ryan paused, frowning.
“The left leads to the forest. The right should open near the river.”
The air from the right came a faint, rhythmic sound—like distant rushing water, steady and alive.
“The river,” I said before he could choose.
He hesitated. “Why?”
“I can hear it calling.”
The air grew cooler, the floor slick beneath our boots.
As we walked, faint light shimmered along the tunnel walls—silver threads running beside us like veins.
The tunnel ended in a stone archway veiled with mist. Beyond it, faint daylight flickered.
“Almost there,” Ryan said.
Cold air hit like a blade. Dawn spilled across the valley in shades of iron and rose.
The forest stirred. Shadows moved between the trees—too large, too deliberate to be wind.
Ryan caught the scent before I did. His shoulders stiffened.
“They found us,” he said.
We splashed into the shallows, icy current biting at our legs.
The whisper inside me rose again, no longer faint but urgent.
The ridge, Lilith. The ridge watches.
The river answered before I could finish. The current surged, sweeping outward like a living wall.
Ryan stared at me. “You just drowned their trail.”
My knees gave way; he caught me before I fell.
We followed the river until the trees began to thin. Ahead, the valley opened onto broken slopes leading up to the ridge.
The first real sunlight touched the rocks, turning frost to steam.
Ryan slowed. “The outpost is half a mile beyond that rise.”
When we reached the foot of the ridge, he paused, scanning the crest.
“Wait here,” he said quietly. “I’ll check the path.”
The smell hit: iron and smoke.
I looked up. On the ridge above, a shape moved against the light—huge, deliberate.
Fur caught the dawn in streaks of black and gold. Two eyes gleamed down, bright as molten amber.
My breath caught. “Ryan,” I whispered.
He turned at the sound, saw where I was looking, and froze.
“Get back,” he said quietly. “Slowly.”
The figure on the ridge shifted its weight. A low rumble rolled across the valley—half growl, half thunder.
Travis.
Ryan stepped between us, drawing his blade.
The whisper inside me fell silent for the first time in days. Then, softly, it spoke a single word: Run.
Ryan didn’t wait for me to hesitate. He grabbed my hand and pulled.
We ran along the riverbank as the first roar split the morning.
The sound shook the trees, sent birds spiraling into the air.
Behind us, claws struck stone. I risked a glance back.
The black wolf was already descending, eyes locked on me, sunlight burning in his fur like fire.
The whisper’s voice echoed through every heartbeat: He is coming, Lilith. And he will not stop.