Chapter 39 Prophecy Unraveling
DAGNOTH DRACULIS
My mind kept wandering throughout the day till sleep took me violently.
One moment I was standing in the throne house, the stone beneath my feet solid and familiar. The next, the ground cracked open with a sound like bone snapping.
I was no longer inside the pack house.
I stood in the centre of the grounds, but everything was wrong.
The sky burned red, It was thick clouds rolling like they were alive, pulsing with something dark beneath them. The torches along the walls were extinguished, their metal frames twisted as if crushed by unseen hands. The air smelt of iron and smoke.
And blood.
I took a step forward.
My boot landed in it.
The ground was soaked; it was dark and sticky, pooling between the stones. Each step made a sound I didn’t want to identify. My chest tightened as dread crawled up my spine.
“Dahlia,” I called. I didn't know why that was the first name that came to mine; the best decision was supposed to be Simone, but the name curled out of my lips before I knew it.
My voice echoed too loudly; it was too hollow, and even though I didn’t care, I felt alone.
There was no answer.
I moved faster, heart pounding; my instincts were screaming that I was already too late.
That was when I heard the crying.
I couldn't make out the sound at first, but as I got closer, I realised it was children.
I froze.
The sound came from the old oak by the eastern wall, the same one Dahlia liked to stand under when she thought no one was looking. Its branches were bare and blackened now.
I ran.
The closer I got, the louder the crying became. It was thin, terrified and desperate. My lungs burnt, but I didn’t slow; in ways I couldn’t understand, I somehow was feeling the pains as the pups cried. The louder it was, the louder the pain I felt.
When I reached the tree, my breath left me in a rush.
The children were there.
Dahlia’s pups stood beneath the oak, clutching each other, their small faces streaked with tears. Their clothes were torn, stained with blood that was not theirs.
Relief slammed into me; it was brief and foolish.
“You’re safe,” I said, dropping to one knee. “I’m here.”
They looked up at me.
Their eyes were pale; it was empty and hollow.
“Mommy said you would fail,” one of them whispered.
The ground shook.
I stood slowly, dread choking me as a shadow stretched across the earth behind them.
I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
I felt a presence pressed against my back like a blade, cold and inevitable. The air thickened, my wolf snarling inside me, clawing to break free.
“You protect what you should not,” a voice murmured. It was deep, layered, and not entirely human.
I turned.
A tall man stood with a familiar muscular frame I couldn’t make out; he stood just beyond the tree, tall and cloaked in darkness that moved like smoke. His eyes burnt silver; it was ancient and too knowing.
Behind him—
The packhouse burnt.
Flames climbed the walls, devouring everything. Wolves lay scattered across the grounds, unmoving. The banners of my pack were torn, trampled into the blood-soaked earth.
And there—
At the center of it all—
Dahlia.
She stood alone, her back to me, her hair loose around her shoulders. She wore white, but it was stained crimson down her spine.
“Dahlia!” I shouted.
She turned slowly.
Her eyes met mine, and my heart shattered.
Not fear.
Not pain.
Disappointment.
“You chose wrong,” she said quietly.
The children screamed.
The man whose face I was still trying to make out laughed.
The sound ripped through my skull like thunder.
I reached for Dahlia but the ground split open between us, a black void swallowing the earth. She fell backward, her eyes never leaving mine.
I lunged—
Too late.
Her name tore from my throat as the darkness consumed her.
I woke up with a roar.
My claws ripped into the mattress as I shot upright, chest heaving, lungs burning like I’d been running for miles. Sweat soaked my skin, my heart slamming so hard I could hear it in my ears.
For a moment, I didn’t know where I was.
Then the familiar stone walls came into focus. My chamber. Safe. Silent.
The dream lingered anyway.
The smell of blood.
Her voice.
You chose wrong.
I dragged a hand down my face and swung my legs over the side of the bed. Sleep was gone, it was ripped away, very unlikely to return.
I didn’t hesitate.
Simone was already awake when I reached his quarters. He opened the door before I knocked, concern flashing across his face the moment he saw me.
“That's bad?” he asked.
I stepped inside without answering, I paced once, twice, then stopped.
“I had a terrible nightmare, or should I call it a vision,” I said.
Simone went still.
“Tell me everything.”
So I did.
I told him about the sky. The blood. The children. Dahlia.The familiar voice. Her last words.
When I finished, the silence between us was heavy.
Simone exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “That wasn’t just a nightmare.”
“No,” I agreed. “It was a warning.”
He looked at me carefully. “You know dreams like that don’t show what will happen. They show what can happen.”
“That doesn’t comfort me.”
“It’s not meant to,” he said honestly. “But it gives us leverage.”
I scoffed quietly. “Leverage against fate?”
“Against panic,” he corrected. “Against making the wrong move too early.”
I met his gaze. “The children were part of it.”
Simone nodded. “That means they matter.”
“They’re innocent.”
“So was she,” he said gently. “Before all this.”
I clenched my jaw. “Kael knows where to strike.”
“Of course he does,” Simone replied. “He always goes for the Alpha’s centre.”
“And mine is becoming a problem,” I muttered.
Simone didn’t argue.
“That’s why you came to me,” he said instead. “Not as Alpha. As a man who doesn’t trust his own instincts right now.”
I didn’t deny it.
“What do we do?” I asked.
Simone straightened. “We don’t isolate her. We don’t panic. And we don’t let Kael... or, he took a breath and said “him”... we both knew who he was talking of... decide the pace.”
Saying his name around recklessly was danger alone.
“And the dream?”
“We learn from it,” he said firmly. “You failed because you reacted. Because you chased instead of anchored.”
His words settled slowly.
“Protect the centre,” he continued. “Not by control. By presence.”
I exhaled.
“She needs to know,” I said.
Simone nodded. “Yes. But carefully. Fear can be just as dangerous as ignorance.”
I turned toward the door.
“Dagnoth,” Simone called.
I paused.
“If HE showed you that dream,” he said quietly, “it’s because he’s afraid of something too.”
I looked back at him. “Of what?”
Simone’s eyes were steady. “Of what happens if you don’t choose wrong this time.”
I left his quarters with the weight of prophecy heavy on my shoulders.
Dawn was still hours away.
'Was Dahlia the wrong choice?' My wolf