Chapter 5 5

A crimson sun rose over the Ironfang Stronghold, spilling its bloodied light across the stone walls, watchtowers, and the wild pines encircling the territory like silent sentinels. Inside the war room, the tension mirrored the morning sky.

Carley stood at the head of the map table, arms crossed over his chest. Leila leaned beside him, her eyes fixed on the parchment that showed their lands- and the surrounding wild zones where Hollowborn markings had been discovered. Rowan, Marek, and three other senior sentinels flanked them.

"There's another one," Marek said, tapping a mark near the southern border. "Found two hours ago. Same sigils. Same bloodwork."

"Was anyone harmed?" Carley asked, voice steel.

"No. But they left something behind." Marek hesitated before tossing a cloth-wrapped object onto the table.

Leila unwrapped it-and immediately flinched.

It was a wolf claw. But not just any claw-one coated in silver and carved with an ancient rune. It was ritualistic, tainted, and radiated a magic that made her skin crawl.

"A hunter's charm," she whispered.

Rowan stepped closer, brows furrowed. "Used to sever bonds. Old witchcraft."

Carley's jaw tensed. "So they're not just marking the land. They're preparing for... what? A ritual? A siege?"

Leila met his gaze. "A separation. They don't just want to kill you, Carley. They want to sever me from the bond before they do."

A cold hush fell over the room.

"They plan to leave me unanchored," she continued. "It's the only way they can drag me fully back into their fold."

"We burn the charm," Carley growled. "And salt the soil around the sigils."

"I've already sent the order," Marek said.

But Leila's hand hovered above the charm, not touching, just sensing.

"There's something else. This was made with someone's essence. Someone close."

"What are you saying?" Rowan asked.

She looked up, voice quiet but fierce. "There's a traitor in the stronghold."

Later That Day – The Moonfire Arena

The Ironfang pack trained as one, warriors sparring in the sunlit clearing known as the Moonfire Arena. The clang of blades, the low growls of controlled shifts, and the thud of fists meeting flesh echoed through the air.

Carley was in the center ring, shirtless, sweat gleaming across his sculpted form as he moved with brutal precision. Every strike, every block was calculated. Controlled. He wasn't just leading by example-he was preparing for war.

Leila watched from the edge, trying to focus on his movements. But her senses were clouded, her skin crawling.

She wasn't imagining it-someone was watching him. From the trees. Hidden.

She stepped forward, instincts flaring.

And then she saw it.

A flash of black between the pines. A crossbow-silver-tipped.

"Carley!" she screamed.

Everything happened at once.

Carley turned as the bolt fired.

Leila shoved through the guards, the world slowing as adrenaline surged.

But Rowan was faster.

He lunged from the side, knocking Carley just enough off balance.

The bolt grazed his shoulder-but it struck Rowan full in the side.

Chaos erupted.

Wolves shifted mid-motion. Guards tackled into the trees. Screams split the air as the would-be assassin bolted through the forest. But Leila didn't chase.

She dropped beside Rowan, who was gasping through gritted teeth, blood blooming beneath his tunic.

Carley landed beside her, eyes wide with fury and grief. "Rowan-"

Leila's hands were already glowing.

"Don't move him," she said sharply.

She placed her palm against the wound, pouring raw energy into the injury, willing the silver to retreat.

Rowan groaned, the veins around the bolt darkening before slowly returning to normal.

She yanked the bolt out with a swift motion, burning it to ash with a flick of her hand.

"He's stable," she said, voice low. "But that shot was meant for you."

Carley nodded, jaw clenched. "And they almost succeeded."

Later That Night – Leila's Dream

The fire whispered her name again.

She stood in a void, the earth beneath her cracking with heat. Chains dragged at her limbs-old, rusted, but familiar. And in front of her, a mirror.

In it, her reflection stared back... and smiled.

But it wasn't her. The eyes were black pits. The smile cruel. Her other self-The Hollow Queen.

"You're weakening," it said softly. "He can't protect you forever."

Leila shook her head. "I'm not yours."

"You always were. They gave you a name, a bond, a role to play-but deep down, you remember. Don't you?"

Flashes:

-Blood rituals in a sacred cave.

-Her screaming as the bond to Carley snapped the first time.

-Hands dragging her under, whispering her worth.

"Your true power," the reflection said, "isn't bound by love. It's forged by loss. Let me show you."

It stepped through the mirror, reaching.

Leila screamed-

And woke with a gasp, heart thundering in her chest.

Carley was already at her side. "You saw her again."

"She wants in," Leila whispered. "And I think she's close."

He wrapped her in his arms, holding her tight. "Then we'll seal every crack. I won't lose you again."

But Leila knew something had shifted.

The Hollow Queen wasn't just a memory. She was a tether. And someone in the pack was feeding her strength.

The Next Day – The Dungeons

Marek dragged a bound figure into the underground holding cells. Carley and Leila stood waiting, flanked by guards. The prisoner was bloodied, silver burns marking his wrists.

Leila stepped forward. "Who are you?"

The man spit blood, smiling with a cracked tooth. "Just a vessel."

"For the Hollowborn?"

"For your return, my queen."

Carley growled, stepping forward. "You shot at me. You nearly killed Rowan."

"You mean the dog who stands between her and her purpose?" the traitor laughed. "You all cling to your delusions. She was never meant to be yours."

Leila's power surged, shadows dancing in her eyes.

"You know me?" she asked quietly.

"I know what you were made for."

She stepped closer. "Then you know I don't need chains to destroy you."

The ground beneath them rumbled.

Carley placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "Leila. Don't give in."

The prisoner watched them with a smile.

"She'll choose us," he whispered. "In the end. She always does."

Leila turned, power retreating. "Lock him away. Deep. And keep the cells warded."

As the guards dragged him off, Carley turned to her. "He's not the only one."

"I know," she whispered. "We have a traitor. Maybe more. And we're running out of time."

The traitor's chilling laughter echoed long after the guards dragged him away, the sound rattling around the cold stone walls of the dungeon like the lingering residue of a curse. Leila stood silent, the skin along her arms prickling with unease. She could still hear his voice in her head:

She always chooses us in the end.

Carley moved to her side, his presence grounding her even as the weight of that claim hung in the air like a poisoned fog. "He's not wrong about everything," he said quietly. "You were made for something powerful. But that doesn't mean they get to claim it."

Leila exhaled sharply, her voice tight. "I need to know what I was before the bond. Before you."

She looked at him-at those dark, storm-grey eyes that had held her together through every unraveling moment-and she hated herself for the fear she saw in his face. Not of her. But of losing her.

"Then we find out together," he said, drawing her close. "But Leila-if there's darkness waiting at the end of this truth, you don't face it alone."

For a moment, she allowed herself the comfort of his warmth, the steady beat of his heart.

But the past didn't rest. And neither would those who wished to unmake her.

That Evening – The Oracle's Quarters

The scent of old parchment and burning herbs clung to the air as Leila and Carley stepped into the Oracle's chamber. High above the rest of the stronghold, the tower curved inward like a fang carved of moonstone. Ancient glyphs pulsed on the floor, responding to Leila's presence.

The Oracle, a woman known only as Mother Talien, sat in the center of a spiral etched into the stone. Her long white hair cascaded around her shoulders, and her eyes-milky and blind-followed Leila with unnerving precision.

"You've come," she rasped, voice like old wind over bone.

Leila nodded. "The Hollowborn are moving. There's a traitor among us."

Mother Talien tilted her head. "There always was."

Carley stepped forward. "You knew?"

"I see fragments," the Oracle said. "A thread pulled loose long ago. One that led to your mate's death, to your rejection, to your rebirth."

Leila's hands tightened into fists. "Who is it?"

The Oracle didn't answer right away. She lifted a small bowl from beside her and placed it between them. "Blood. Yours."

Leila didn't hesitate. She bit the inside of her palm and let the blood fall into the bowl.

The Oracle placed her hands over the bowl and chanted in a language that made Carley stiffen. It was old. Forbidden. And it hurt to hear.

Smoke curled from the bowl, swirling upward in tight spirals before forming a shape-an emblem.

A wolf's head marked with the crest of Ironfang. And across it? A scar shaped like a crescent moon.

Leila inhaled sharply.

"Dara," she said.

Carley's jaw clenched. "One of the Inner Guard."

"Trusted since my father's time," he added.

"She was the one who escorted me back from the Hollowborn border when I was found," Leila whispered. "She... she said she saved me."

Mother Talien's blind gaze locked on her. "Sometimes the one who returns the lost girl is the one who took her."

Midnight – Dara's Quarters

It took seconds for Carley to dispatch the elite guard and breach the stone door to Dara's chambers.

But it was empty.

Neat. Too neat.

Leila stepped in and immediately felt the residue. A veil of dark magic clung to the space, as if it had been warded against scrying and now, suddenly, released.

"Something's wrong," she said.

They moved carefully through the space-until Leila spotted it.

A carved wooden box, tucked beneath the bed. Carley handed it to her without a word.

Inside, wrapped in black silk, was a necklace. A Hollowborn sigil gleamed at its center, carved in obsidian.

Leila swallowed hard.

"She's not just working for them," she whispered. "She's one of them."

Carley's voice was low and cold. "She's been under our roof for years. She's seen our strategies. She knows how to hurt us."

Leila nodded slowly. "And she's not done yet."

A knock sounded at the door.

Marek stepped in, his face grim.

"Two more scouts found dead near the eastern river. And Rowan's healing slower than expected. The wound... it was laced with blood magic."

Carley's expression darkened.

"Sound the alert," he ordered. "No one leaves the stronghold. Until Dara is found, everyone's a suspect."

Hours Later – Rowan's Quarters

The scent of blood and burned herbs filled the space. Rowan lay pale on the bed, breathing shallowly. Leila sat at his side, her hand on his chest, sending slow waves of healing energy through him.

"He'll live," she said softly. "But the spell was meant to rot him from the inside. It was personal."

Carley leaned against the wall, watching her. "You blame yourself."

"I was the target. He took the bolt for me."

"You would've done the same for him."

She looked at Carley then, tired and uncertain. "What if I can't stop them, Carley? What if the bond isn't enough to hold me together?"

Carley crossed the room, kneeling before her. "Then we bind something stronger."

He took her hand and pressed it to his chest.

"You're not just my mate, Leila. You're my queen. And if the Hollowborn want war-then by the blood moon, they'll get one."

Elsewhere – Unknown Location

Dara knelt in a stone chamber illuminated by a crimson fire. Around her, figures in hooded cloaks murmured in Hollowborn tongue.

She dropped a single strand of dark hair into a bowl of blood.

"She is remembering," Dara said. "And resisting."

The Hollow Queen's voice echoed from the flames. "Then hasten the unraveling."

"She is bound tightly to him," Dara warned. "Carley Nightpaw is no fool."

"Then we'll take the one he trusts most."

The fire roared higher. And in it, the image of Marek appeared.