Chapter 142
The night air cut sharp as we stepped out of the infirmary.
Snow crunched underfoot, brittle in the cold, and above us the moon hung swollen and bright- not yet full, but close enough that I could feel Mika restless inside me, her presence like white fire under my skin.
Lira was already giving orders. She moved quickly for someone so small, her braided hair swinging behind her as she strode toward the upper courtyard where the old temple stones waited.
“Clear the eastern wall,” she barked to a group of warriors. “We’ll need a path wide enough for the artifacts. And no one the book without gloves spelled in silver ash.”
Her voice had changed.
—
no one–touches
Gone was the gentle healer’s lilt I’d always known; in its place was the clipped precision of someone who’d led rituals before and knew the weight of them.
Francesco walked beside me, his gaze fixed ahead, but his arm brushed mine in the faintest touch
–
a reminder. I’m here.
I didn’t need to look at him to feel the heat of his presence, the controlled power simmering just beneath his skin.
When we reached the courtyard, the preparations were already underway.
The ancient stones of the temple ring jutted up from the snow like blackened teeth, their surfaces carved with runes so old I couldn’t read them. A wide firepit sat in the center, unlit, its basin lined with silver and salt.
“This is where it ends,” Lira said, turning to face us.
The torchlight made her eyes look almost gold.
“I’ll lead the binding. My magic will hold Luca in place long enough for you two to strike. Ellaine — you and Mika will attack his essence directly. White wolf power is pure; it can cut through anything corrupted. Francesco – you’ll use your Lycan strength to anchor her, and to destroy whatever remains physically. If either of you falter…” She hesitated. “There will be no second chance.”
A warrior approached with a heavy iron chest. I knew without opening it what lay inside – the book. Even sealed, I could feel its presence, a faint, oily pressure at the edge of my mind, whispering in a voice I didn’t want to understand.
“Set it in the circle,” Lira commanded, and they obeyed, placing the chest directly over the silver lines carved into the stone. She began sprinkling a mixture of ash, crushed moonstone, and dried wolfsbane around it, her fingers moving with absolute precision.
I stepped forward, my boots crunching over the snow–packed earth, and knelt by the edge of the firepit.
The air felt heavier here, thick with the residue of countless rituals.
Mika stirred restlessly inside me, her voice clear.
‘We end him tonight.‘
“I know,” I whispered back.
Francesco came to stand behind me, his shadow falling long over the circle. “When Lira signals, we move,” he murmured. “Don’t hesitate, Ellaine.”
“I won’t.”
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Chapter 142
The rest of the preparations blurred into a rhythm–warriors placing protective totems along the perimeter, Lira chanting code conta breath, the scent of herbs and burning sage thick in the air.
Snow began to fall in slow, lazy flakes, catching in my hair and melting Instantly against my skin.
Then Lira straightened, her eyes scanning each of us.
“It’s time.”
The iron chest was opened.
The book lay inside, its cover a deep, mottled black that seemed to writhe if I looked too long.
Symbols crawled over the leather like living things, and the air around it grew colder, sharper, as if it were drinking in the warmth.
Lira’s voice rose, steady and strong, weaving the first threads of the binding. The runes carved into the stones flared to life, silver light racing
around the circle.
The firepit blazed into sudden flame–blue–white, unnatural, beautiful and terrible all at once.
The book shuddered.
I felt it then – Luca’s presence.
Not as a figure, not yet, but as a pressure in my mind, a voice that slid against my thoughts like oil.
‘Ellaine… little wolf… you don’t belong here.’
Mika snarled, and the sound tore from my throat in a low, feral growl.
“Hold her,” Lira commanded, her tone like steel.
Francesco’s hand found my shoulder, grounding me as Lira’s magic rose higher, the air around us crackling with power.
The book opened on its own.
Pages turned in a violent blur, stopping on one scrawled in black that pulsed like a heartbeat.
Shadows began to leak from the paper, thick and writhing, forming a shape – human at first, then twisting into something far less so.
“Now!” Lira shouted.
Lira’s shout ripped through the icy air.
The runes under our feet blazed silver–white, and the flames in the pit roared higher, their unnatural blue light bathing everything in a ghostly glow.
Mika surged forward inside me, pressing against the edges of my skin, not in her usual restless pacing but like a living storm demanding release.
The shadows spilling from the book writhed faster, coiling into a thick column that twisted upward.
The air reeked of burning metal and something older – something wrong, like a rotting thing pretending to be alive.
Francesco’s hand tightened on my shoulder.
Chapter 142
Ellaine. Breathe. Focus on me.”
I did – just for a second
enough to ground myself before the shadow solidified into him.
Luca…
But not the man I’d seen in fragmented visions, not the once–proud warrior who’d laughed in candlelight.
This was him after.
His skin was ashen, stretched tight over sharp checkbones. His eyes- black pits rimmed with red–glowed like dying embers.
The shadow clung to him like a second skin, flowing and shifting as if it breathed with him.
And when he smiled, it was like watching a corpse remember what cruelty felt like.
“Little wolf,” he purred, though his voice was layered one sound human, one inhuman, a deep vibration that rattled my bones. “Still clinging to life that isn’t yours.”
My lips pulled back in a snarl before I even realized it. “Not for long. Yours ends here.”
Lira’s chanting grew sharper, faster, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
The silver lines around the circle began to move — actually shift, snaking across the ground in patterns that wove around Luca’s feet.
The binding had begun.
Luca’s form flickered, his outline blurring as the magic pressed against him. He tilted his head, almost curious, then moved – faster than I could follow – slamming into the invisible wall of Lira’s spell.
The impact made the runes flare bright enough to burn spots into my vision.
Francesco’s voice was low in my ear. “He’ll fight harder now. When the opening comes, we strike together. You with Mika
blade.”
–
me with the
I glanced at the weapon in his hand. It was unlike any sword I’d seen restrained power. A Lycan–forged relic.
–
black steel veined with molten silver, the edge faintly humming with
He’s serious.
Mika’s growl rolled through me, and the pressure to shift became unbearable. I met Francesco’s eyes, gave a sharp nod.
“Go,” he said.
I let go.
The shift wasn’t slow or graceful.
It ripped through me like lightning, my bones snapping and reforming, skin tearing and reshaping, muscles knotting with r
Pain flared and vanished almost at once, replaced by an overwhelming rush of rightness.
Mika stood where I had been pure white fur shimmering faintly in the moonlight, her eyes glowing a molten gold.
The air seemed to still, just for a heartbeat.
Chapter 142
Luca’s smile faltered.
Now, Mika’s voice echoed in my mind.
‘We moved.
Francesco surged forward beside me, his own shift beginning mid–stride.
Lycan form was massive, towering over even the largest wolves I’d seen, his black fur streaked with silver at the shoulders, his eyes an intense, unbroken gold.
The ground shook under his weight.
Lira’s binding flared again, forcing Luca back a step, and that was all the space we needed.
Mika lunged, teeth snapping for his throat, but the shadows writhed up his arm and solidified into a jagged weapon, blocking the strike with
a sound like metal on stone.
A
Pain shot up my jaw at the impact.
I twisted away before the shadow–blade could rake across my side.
Francesco was already there, swinging the Lycan blade in a vicious arc. The silver edge sliced through the shadow clinging to Luca, and for the first time, he screamed.
It was a sound that made the air itself recoil – rage, pain, and something deeper, something ancient. The shadows rippled violently, spilling away from his form before reforming thicker, darker.
He’s pulling more power from the book, Mika snarled. ‘Break his link!‘
I didn’t think…
I ran straight for the chest still holding the cursed tome.
Lira’s voice caught – “Luna Ellaine, wait!” – but there was no time to explain.
Luca moved to intercept, but Francesco blocked him, their clash shaking the ground.
Claws met steel, shadows meeting the unyielding force of Lycan muscle. For a moment, they were locked, neither giving an inch.
I skidded to a stop at the edge of the firepit.
The book’s pages were turning again, faster and faster, the symbols glowing a sickly green. My fur bristled as the wrongness pressed against me, trying to seep in.
‘Burn it,‘ Mika urged. ‘But not with normal fire
–
with us.”
I leapt into the pit.
The flames didn’t burn me – instead, they clung to my fur, turning white–gold where they touched.
I clamped my jaws around the book’s spine, ignoring the taste of blood and ash, and ripped it free of the chest.
It screamed.
Not just in my head – the sound ripped through the courtyard, making warriors flinch and clutch their ears.
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Chapter 142
Luca roared, a sound of fury so raw it seemed to split the air.
Francesco took the opening, driving the black–silver blade deep into Luca’s side.
Shadows exploded outward like a burst dam, slamming into the protective wards Lira had set.
‘Now!‘ Mika shouted.
We hurled the book into the heart of the blue–white flames.
The reaction was instant.
The fire roared higher, swallowing the tome whole, the runes on its pages twisting and burning away.
The shadows binding Luca to this place began to tear, threads snapping one by one.
He staggered, his form flickering. “No-
no!” His voice cracked, losing that inhuman echo. “You don’t understand-”
“I understand enough,” I growled through Mika. “You die tonight.”
Francesco tore the blade free and swung again, this time with both hands.
The strike hit true–straight through Luca’s chest.
Light – pure, blinding – burst from the wound, and the shadows screamed as they burned away.
Luca’s body convulsed once, twice, before collapsing inward, disintegrating into ash that scattered on the wind.
The flames in the pit died all at once.
Silence fell–heavy, almost crushing – broken only by the sound of my breathing and the faint crackle of cooling silver.
1 shifted back, my legs trembling, lungs burning with every breath,
Francesco stood over the place Luca had fallen, still in his Lycan form, chest heaving, eyes locked on me.
Slowly, he shifted back as well, the sword hanging loose at his side.
“It’s done,” Lira said softly, almost in disbelief. “The bond is broken. He’s gone.”
