chapter Three

The night outside was restless, alive with the whisper of unseen forces. The shadows moved like living creatures across the forest, flickering against the cold glow of the moon. Elara sat by the narrow window of her chamber, her hands trembling as she traced the edges of the black obsidian ring on her finger. It was more than a symbol of Kaelen’s claim over her; it felt like a chain, pulling her toward something dark and unknowable.

The seer’s cryptic warning echoed in her mind: The bond you wear will destroy him—and you. Choose the curse or the scar.

She tried to shake off the ominous words, but the ring’s unnatural chill seeped into her skin, a constant reminder that her fate was no longer her own. She clenched her fist, forcing her thoughts elsewhere. Yet her reprieve was brief—a soft knock at her door startled her, sending her heart racing.

“Who’s there?” she called, her voice sharper than intended.

No answer. She approached the door cautiously, her hand hovering over the latch before pulling it open. To her shock, it wasn’t a guard or one of Kaelen’s spies—it was a boy. Barely sixteen, his frame was wiry, his clothes plain, and his expression filled with nervous energy. His brown eyes darted down the corridor behind him before locking onto hers.

“Are you Elara?” he inquired swiftly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I have little time.”

Her instincts warned of danger, yet her curiosity subdued that alarm. “Who are you?”

“My name is Chris. I am a courier for the rogues.” He reached into his coat and produced a small bundle, extending it towards her with unsteady hands. “Please take this. Quickly.”

Elara hesitated, glancing down the corridor before accepting the package. Inside was a small glass vial containing a blood-red liquid and a folded note. As she unfolded the paper, her pulse quickened while she read the hurried script:

Your scar is the key, but it is also a lock. The truth lies beyond the borders. The rebels are not your adversaries—they are your answers.

She raised her gaze, her mind racing. “Who sent this?”

Chris shifted awkwardly. “The Rebel Alpha. He is aware of your scar. He knows what Kaelen is concealing.”

Before she could press him further, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the hallway. Chris expression soured. “They are coming.”.”

Some time recently she seem press him encourage, the thunder of boots reverberated down the lobby. Liam's confront withered. “They're coming! Cover up the vial.”

Elara scarcely had time to slip the vial into the folds of her outfit some time recently the entryway burst open. Two of Kaelen's watches raged in, their expressions stony.

“What is going on here?” Elara requested, driving her voice to stay unfaltering.

One watch jeered. “The Alpha requested us to guarantee no one approaches you. No guests. No exceptions.”

Their eyes checked the room, waiting on the trembling Chris. Some time recently they may address him, a removed yell penetrated the discuss, taken after by the unmistakable clash of fight.

“The rogues,” one protect mumbled, his confront obscuring.

The match hurried out, hammering the entryway behind them. The room fell noiseless once more, spare for the rapid crashing of Elara's heart. She turned to Liam, her voice sharp. “What does the Rebel Alpha need from me?”

“He doesn't need you—he needs you,” Chris answered, his fear giving way to direness. “If you need to know the truth around your scar, you have got to come with me now.” 

Outside, chaos had erupted. From her window, Elara could see the courtyard bathed in moonlight, its beauty marred by the violence below. Wolves clashed in a blur of fur and claws, the snarls and cries of battle rising into the night. Kaelen’s warriors were well-trained, but the rogues fought with a ferocity that unnerved even the most seasoned fighters.

Elara knew she couldn’t stay hidden. If the note spoke the truth, the rogues were her only chance to uncover the mystery of her scar—and perhaps even escape Kaelen’s grasp.

Throwing a shawl over her head, she slipped out of her chambers. The palace halls were deserted, the guards drawn to the battle outside. Her heart pounded as she navigated the winding corridors, each step a gamble. Finally, she reached the courtyard.

“chris!” she hissed, spotting the boy crouched near the stables.

He waved her over, his movements quick and nervous. “This way. Hurry.”

He led her to a hidden passage carved into the stone walls, its entrance obscured by vines and shadows. The tunnel was damp and narrow, the air thick with the scent of earth and moss. Chris lit a small lantern, its flickering light casting eerie shadows on the walls.

“Where are we going?” Elara demanded, her voice a mix of fear and determination.

“To someone who can explain everything,” Chris replied. “But we have to—”

A deafening roar cut him off. The ground trembled beneath their feet, and a chilling growl echoed through the tunnel. Chris face turned ashen.

“What was that?” Elara asked, her voice trembling.

Chris's hand tightened around the lantern. “A beast of the Shadow Alpha. He’s sent it to stop us.”

Before Elara could react, the tunnel ahead collapsed in a shower of dirt and debris. From the rubble emerged a creature unlike anything she had ever seen. It was massive, its fur as dark as midnight and its eyes glowing red with malevolent intelligence.

“Run!” Chris shouted, shoving her toward a side passage.

The beast lunged, its claws raking the air where Elara had stood moments before. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she stumbled through the narrow passage, the sound of the creature’s growls reverberating around her. Behind her, Chris s shouts were drowned out by the beast’s roars.

“Keep going!” he yelled. “Don’t stop!”

Elara’s legs burned, her lungs screamed for air, but she didn’t dare slow down. The passage opened into a clearing, the cool night air hitting her like a slap. She collapsed onto the grass, her body trembling.

When she looked up, she was surrounded.

A group of figures stood around her, their faces obscured by cloaks. At their center was a man who exuded an aura of power and danger. His silver eyes glinted in the moonlight, and a jagged scar ran down his cheek.

“Elara,” he said, his voice smooth and commanding. “You’ve made it.”

“Who are you?” Elara demanded, forcing herself to stand despite her shaking legs.

The man stepped forward, his piercing gaze never leaving hers. “I am Eryth Solan, the Rogue Alpha. And you, Elara, are more important than you realize.”

“I didn’t come here to play games,” she snapped, her fear giving way to anger. “What do you know about my scar?”

Eryth’s expression darkened. “Your scar is no ordinary mark. It binds you to a prophecy—one that could destroy not just Kaelen but every pack in the region.”

Her stomach turned. “Prophecy? What are you talking about?”

Eryth gestured for her to follow him. “Come. There’s much to discuss, and little time.”

Eryth led her to a secluded grove, where a fire crackled in the center. The other rogues faded into the shadows, leaving them alone. He motioned for her to have a seat, his demeanor serious.

“Your scar represents more than just a mark of exile,” he began. “It is connected to an ancient power—one that Kaelen fears above all else. The Shadow Alpha seeks to awaken this power and harness it to control the packs. Your scar is the key to preventing his ambitions.”

Elara’s mind raced. “Why am I involved? I am insignificant.”

“That is where you are mistaken,” Elara responded, his voice resolute. “You are the last descendant of the Veyrith bloodline, a lineage intended to uphold the balance of power. Kaelen is aware of this, which is why he has kept you nearby—though also under his influence.”

Elara gazed into the flames, her thoughts tumultuous. Her entire existence had been shaped by Kaelen’s desires, her identity stripped away. Now, she was being informed that she possessed the fate of the packs in her hands.

“I am uncertain if I can undertake this responsibility,” she confessed, her voice barely a whisper.