Chapter 13 Thirteen
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sara’s POV
Xenon didn’t slow down as he led me through the pack house. His grip on my wrist wasn’t painful, but firm in a way that told me arguing wouldn’t change anything. We passed hallways filled with tense warriors, healers rushing between rooms, and guards reinforcing every exit.
Everyone could feel the pressure in the air.
Everyone knew the Creed would return.
Xenon pushed open a reinforced door at the end of a long corridor. The room was dim, lined with shelves of old records, scrolls, and maps. It smelled like dust and ink. Kael stood near a table, already waiting for us.
His expression was calm, but his eyes sharpened when he saw me.
“You came sooner than I expected,” Kael said.
Xenon moved me to stand beside him before letting go. “The Creed showed themselves. They left a summons mark.”
Kael exhaled slowly. “Then we have less time than I thought.”
He turned toward a tall shelf and pulled down a thick leather journal, placing it on the table. The cover was worn, the edges cracked from age.
Kael opened it carefully. “You asked about your bloodline.”
My pulse quickened. “Yes.”
He hesitated before speaking. “What I am about to tell you is based on fragmented records. Old stories. Pieces of information that survived over generations. There is no proof. Only patterns.”
Xenon crossed his arms. “Tell us everything.”
Kael nodded. “There was once a clan. Very old. Older than the first packs. They were not stronger than wolves, but they had a gift that made them valuable.”
“What kind of gift,” I asked.
“Memory,” Kael said. “Not ordinary memory. They could remember things passed down through generations. Knowledge. Secrets. Blood truths.”
I frowned. “That does not make sense. Memory does not pass genetically.”
Kael lifted his eyes. “Normal memory does not. But theirs did.”
Xenon stiffened beside me.
Kael continued, “If the clan survived long enough, the next generation would receive fragments of the last one’s knowledge. It is not predictable. It is not consistent. Some individuals lived their entire lives without awakening anything. Others woke with knowledge that should have been impossible.”
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“So you think I belong to this clan.”
Kael nodded once. “It is possible.”
Xenon’s jaw tightened. “And the Creed knows more than we do.”
“They always have,” Kael said. “They have hunted this clan for decades. If even one member survived, if even one bloodline remained, the Creed would search until they found it.”
I swallowed. “Why.”
“Because information is power,” Kael said. “And if someone awakened the right memory, it could expose everything the Creed has built.”
Xenon looked at him sharply. “What memory.”
Kael closed the book. “No one knows.”
Silence stretched.
The air felt heavier.
“But you said my father hid us because of them. If he had a bloodline like this, why did he never tell me.”
Kael stepped closer. “Some bloodlines lie dormant for generations. Your father may not have known what he carried. Or he did, and he wanted to keep you from it.”
Xenon glanced at me. “Did he ever mention anything unusual.”
I shook my head. “Nothing. Only that danger would come after he died. Only that I should trust no one. He never spoke of bloodlines or memories.”
Kael nodded. “Then the Creed believes something woke inside you. Or will soon. That is why they are here.”
“I do not feel anything,” I whispered.
The room went quiet.
Xenon stepped closer to me, his expression shifting to something more controlled. “The Creed thinks you do. They are acting on belief. Not proof.”
Kael studied me carefully. “Tell me something. The night Asher was attacked, did you feel anything unusual.”
I hesitated. “Only fear.”
“And when the rogues surrounded the gate tonight,” he asked, “did anything inside you shift.”
I paused.
My heartbeat quickened.
A strange prickle crawled up my spine.
“Yes,” I admitted quietly. “But I thought it was just panic.”
Kael’s eyes narrowed. “What did it feel like.”
I tried to breathe evenly. “Heat. Not physical. Inside. Somewhere in the center of my chest. It was uncomfortable.”
Xenon’s head snapped toward me. “Why did you not say that earlier.”
“I thought it was nothing,” I said. “I did not want to make it bigger than it was.”
Kael stepped back. “It matters. The Creed reacts to signs. If they think the blood memory is waking, they will push harder. They will do anything to provoke it.”
Xenon cursed under his breath.
I blinked. “What does that mean.”
“It means,” Xenon said, “they will try to scare you. Hurt you. Break you. Anything to trigger what they believe sleeps inside you.”
My stomach twisted.
Kael looked between us. “We need to monitor her. If the bloodline is activating, we must understand how far it can go.”
Xenon stepped in front of me suddenly. “She is not an experiment.”
Kael raised both hands. “I am not suggesting that. But if her blood carries a dormant memory or ability, we need to identify it before the Creed does.”
“I said no,” Xenon replied.
Kael sighed, but didn’t push further.
I rubbed my arms. “What if this power never wakes. What if I am no one.”
Kael gave a small, sad smile. “That would be a mercy. But the Creed would not stop believing it exists.”
Xenon turned to me. “You are not no one.”
His voice was quiet, steady, and for the first time, he didn’t hide the emotion in it.
Before I could ask what he meant, a loud bang echoed from outside the room.
Adrian burst in. “Alpha.”
Xenon straightened immediately. “What happened.”
Adrian’s voice was firm. “It is Asher. He is awake.”
My chest tightened. “Is he alright.”
“Not fully,” Adrian said. “But he is asking to see you.”
“Me,” I whispered.
Xenon’s wolf bristled. “Why.”
Adrian swallowed. “He says he remembered something before he blacked out. Something important.”
Xenon didn’t hesitate. “We go now.”
He placed a hand on my back, guiding me out of the record room. His touch was steady, protective, but gentle enough not to push me.
Kael followed close behind.
The hallway buzzed with tension. Wolves whispered. Guards moved between posts. The whole pack house felt like a fortress under siege.
As we neared the healer wing, I heard coughing from Asher’s room.
My breath caught.
Xenon pushed open the door.
Asher lay on the bed, pale, breathing shallowly. His eyes flickered open the moment he saw me.
“Good,” he rasped. “You came.”
I stepped closer. “Asher. You should rest.”
“No,” he said hoarsely. “I need to tell you this.”
Xenon moved next to me, arms crossed, protective and watchful.
Asher licked his dry lips. His voice was weak, but steady enough to speak.
“The rogue who attacked me,” he said. “He said your name.”
My heart slammed against my ribs. “What.”
Asher nodded slowly. “He said… it begins when she remembers.”
The room went still.
Kael’s face drained of color.
Xenon’s hand closed into a fist.
I took a shaky breath. “Remembers what.”
Asher shut his eyes for a moment. “He did not say. But he also said you are running out of time.”
Xenon stepped forward, voice sharp. “What else.”
Asher hesitated. “One more thing.”
He looked directly at me.
“He said… your blood already knows the truth. You just have to open it.”
A cold rush went through me.
Xenon’s control snapped for a moment. He slammed his palm on the table beside Asher’s bed, not out of anger at him, but at the message.
Kael spoke quietly. “The bloodline is stirring.”
“No,” Xenon growled. “She is not part of this.”
Kael gave him a steady look. “You cannot stop blood from waking.”
Xenon turned to him sharply. “I can protect her from it.”
Kael shook his head. “Not from herself.”
I stepped back, breathing uneven.
This wasn’t just about the Creed anymore.
Something inside me was changing.
And I didn’t know if I wanted to see what happened when it finally woke.