Chapter 77 78
Gregor’s POV
Dawn came slow — the kind of gray, shivering light that doesn’t warm you, only reminds you you’re still alive. The storm had passed, but its memory lingered in the trees. The forest breathed around us — damp, heavy with mist, the scent of moss and wet bark thick in the air. Water dripped from the cliffs, trickling into the ravine below where the river still hissed from last night’s flood.
Marigold walked ahead of me, her hair still damp, her scent tangled with earth, rain, and something faintly electric — fae magic. She was different now. I could feel it. The forest bent around her, subtle, as if recognizing her presence. She didn’t notice, but I did. The ancient fae’s touch was on her now — her aura sharper, wilder, dangerous in a way that wasn’t purely wolf anymore.
Barbie, the ancient fae herself, fluttered beside Marigold’s shoulder, complaining about mud, humidity, and the injustice of morning air. “If I get fungus in my wings,” she said, “I’m suing the weather.”
I barely listened. My mind was elsewhere — on the Queen, the curse, and the reason all of this was spiraling out of control.
The curse. Gods, I’d read about it once in the archives before the Queen purged them. Old script etched in wolf-hide scrolls, nearly forgotten. A curse born from greed — when the Queen’s ancestor had tried to steal fae blood and merge it with wolf strength, believing it would create an immortal dynasty. Instead, it created a bloodline that could never die, yet never truly live. Wolves cursed with obedience. Wolves whose souls belonged to her throne.
The Black Fang were her blades, and the Wolfgang—those renegade packs who had rebelled decades ago—were her shadow. Both bound by her blood magic. Both damned.
And now ASA—the humans who had once been our allies—had found a way to weaponize that curse. To turn it into science.
I clenched my fists as we hiked higher into the ravine, the path steep and slick. I’d seen what ASA had done to captured wolves — the injections, the collars, the way their eyes went blank before they turned feral. They were trying to replicatethe curse. Trying to harness what they didn’t understand.
“Still brooding, big guy?” Barbie asked, breaking my thoughts.
I glanced at her. “Thinking.”
“Brooding,” she corrected, grinning like she’d just discovered my mortal weakness.
Marigold chuckled softly, though her voice was hoarse. “You’ll have to excuse him, Barbie. He’s been fighting, bleeding, and brooding for about… what? Three days straight?”
“Four,” I said.
“Right. Add dehydration and emotional constipation to the list.”
I gave her a look, but she just smiled — tired but mischievous, that same spark that had always made me lose focus.
The path narrowed, cutting between slabs of stone that looked carved by ancient claws. The mist grew thicker, and somewhere far above, a raven screamed. The sound echoed strange — like something inside the forest screamed back.
Barbie froze midair. “Don’t move.”
Her voice changed — softer, lower, edged with something ancient. She lifted her tiny hand, glowing faintly blue, and the mist rippled as if alive. “They’re here.”
Marigold sniffed the air, her wolf senses flaring. “Queen’s soldiers?”
“No,” I murmured, stepping forward. “Not soldiers. Scouts.”
The air shifted again — a faint metallic tang. I knew that smell. Wolfbane bullets. Human weaponry. ASA was close.
Marigold crouched beside a tree, hand brushing the dirt. “They came through here last night,” she whispered. “Two, maybe three jeeps. One overturned. Blood — not human. Wolf blood.”
I knelt beside her and saw it too — streaks of crimson across the roots, a patch of fur scorched into the ground. The scent was familiar.
“Wolfgang renegades,” I muttered. “The Queen’s using them again.”
Barbie’s wings flickered nervously. “So the curse spreads.”
“It’s not just spreading,” I said. “It’s mutating.”
The fae frowned. “What do you mean, mutating?”
I hesitated. “ASA’s experiments — they’ve been mixing cursed blood with synthetic fae serum. It’s how they’ve been controlling the Fang in human cities. I saw it myself in the lab under Geneva. The hybrids—they obey every command. No mind, no soul. Just hunger and control.”
Marigold’s hands curled into fists. “So the Queen’s curse, ASA’s tech, the Fang—they’re merging all of it?”
“Yes. And if they succeed, there won’t just be cursed wolves. There’ll be an entire army of immortal slaves.”
Barbie’s light dimmed a little. “You can’t unmake something that powerful.”
“I don’t plan to unmake it,” I said darkly. “I plan to end it.”
The forest went still for a heartbeat. Even the wind seemed to listen.
Then came the whisper.
It slithered through the mist — not words, but something ancient, something hungry. A low chant, echoing from everywhere and nowhere at once. The trees seemed to lean closer, their shadows stretching across our path.
Marigold shivered. “You hear that?”
Barbie nodded slowly. “The curse. It recognizes its chosen.”
I moved closer to Marigold instinctively, hand brushing my blade. “Chosen for what?”
The fae’s eyes glowed faintly. “For the end or for salvation. The curse can’t tell the difference anymore.”
The whisper grew louder, almost forming words. I caught fragments — blood… union… dark wolf… fae… heal… destroy.
Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. The mist parted just enough to show a line of bodies ahead.
Soldiers. Black Fang.
Dozens of them. Some half-shifted, their eyes black pits, their claws dragging trenches into the mud. They weren’t alive. Not really. The curse had consumed what was left of their minds.
Marigold’s wolf stirred inside her, furious. “They’re blocking the way.”
I drew my blade. “Then we carve one.”
Barbie hovered higher, a halo of blue fire sparking from her hands. “You two have no idea how much I’ve missed a good massacre.”
“Remind me never to piss off a fae,” Marigold muttered.
“You won’t have to. You’re practically one now.”
Before I could respond, the first Fang charged — feral, shrieking, claws raking the stone.
We moved together — instinct, rhythm, fury. Marigold shifted mid-leap, her wolf bursting free in a blaze of dark fire and silver eyes. Barbie’s light flared, a storm of blue lightning that cracked through the mist and scorched the Fang to ash.
And me—well, I’d always been good at killing.
The battle was brutal and fast. Blood splattered the rocks, claws met steel, and the cursed screamed until silence claimed them again.
When it was over, Marigold stood at my side, chest heaving, fur slick with blood and rain. Barbie floated down, wings dim but steady.
I looked at the bodies, then at the rising sun burning through the fog.
“This is only the beginning,” I said quietly. “The Queen’s sending them north. She knows where we’re going.”
Marigold shifted back, catching her breath. “Then she’s scared.”
“Good,” Barbie huffed, wringing water from her hair. “Let her choke on her own curse.”
But even as she said it, I could feel the whisper still lingering in the air. The curse wasn’t just a spell—it was alive. Watching. Waiting.
And if the prophecy was true…
Then it wanted Marigold most of all.