Chapter 2 Two

The Rite of Blood

The forest breathed with silence before dawn, mist coiled between the roots like ancient secrets, and the sky was a bruise of blue and black as Lira stepped barefoot onto the training grounds. Her skin prickled from the cold, but her focus was inward, on the gathering storm in her chest. She could feel it building every day this restless urge to tear, to run, and to burn. She wasn't a pup anymore, she was something else.

Kade waited at the edge of the ring, with his arms crossed, clad in leathers stained by years of sweat and blood, He looked her over with a hunter's scrutiny.

"No warm-ups?" he asked, with his voice low and flat.

"Not today," she replied.

"Good,"

He came at her fast, and she pivoted left, ducking beneath his outstretched arm. He moved like wind, silent and unpredictable. Lira dropped low, sweeping his legs, but he sprang backward and drove his boot toward her chest. She rolled, recovered, and lunged with a snarl. A heartbeat later, they collided in a tangle of limbs and fury, neither holding back.

For minutes, there was no speech, Only instinct.

She shifted mid-air, fur sprouting from her skin, bones cracking and reshaping. And a silver fur glinted under the weak morning light as she snarled, her wolf form powerful but still lean. Kade shifted too, he is larger, older, and more experienced. Their bodies clashed like titans, a whirl of teeth and claws on dirt.

When it ended, they both stood panting in the dew-soaked grass, as human again with bruises.

"You lasted longer this time," Kade said, wiping his mouth.

"I'm not here to last, I'm here to win."

"Then you'd better learn faster, the Hollowborn won't give you second chances."

She met his eyes, with her jaw tight, "Then I won't need them."

Later that morning, Lira knelt before her grandmother in the Seer's chamber, The walls were filled with old glyphs, carved deep into the stone, glowing faintly with residual magic. Maelen sat cross-legged on a fur-lined mat, her clouded eyes locked not on Lira, but on something beyond.

"You're angry," Maelen said.

"They left a fang," Lira replied, "One of ours was torn out and wrapped like a trophy."

Maelen nodded slowly, "The Hollowborn don't waste gestures. Everything they do carries weight."

"They want me to respond."

"They want you to stumble," the Seer said. "Because they know you're close to the edge."

Lira's hands curled into fists, "Then let them come, Let them try."

Maelen's expression sharpened, "Vengeance is a fire, child, it might seem bright but quick to consume."

"Maybe I need that fire."

Maelen leaned forward, the glow of the glyphs casting shadows across her wrinkled face. "You think fury makes you strong, but it's the oath that matters, Not the rage. The Hollowborn broke their oaths long ago. That's why they rot from the inside."

Lira didn't speak, She felt the weight of those words pressing into her chest like stone.

"You're ready," Maelen continued. "But the clans need proof, the rite of blood is not just tradition, It's a binding. If you pass it, no one will question your claim again."

"I'll pass it," Lira said, "Tell me what to do."

That night, under a moon choked with clouds, Lira walked alone into the whispering hollow. This was the first trial of the rite Isolation, No weapons, no clothing, and no help, Just the wild.

The forest here was older than memory, trees twisted into impossible shapes, and the earth reeked of old magic. Every leaf crunched too loudly beneath her feet, Every shadow seemed to breathe.

She didn't run, she didn't hide. She walked until she reached the bloodstone altar a jagged boulder stained dark from generations of oaths.

She sat beneath it and waited.

The first threat came as a low growl behind her, She turned as a pair of yellow eyes blinked into view, A massive black-furred wolf stalked forward, lips peeled back in a snarl. This is not Hollowborn, but a wild untethered, ancient.

Lira didn't flinch, She let the change flow through her. Her bones shifted again, her limbs lengthened, and the silver wolf emerged, teeth bared and body low to the ground.

They fought, claws slashed, and teeth tore fur. The other wolf was stronger and older, but Lira was faster. She used her environment, leaping over roots, smashing the beast into trees, and using its momentum against it.

When it finally fell, whimpering and retreating, she didn't give chase. She stood at the altar, panting, her flank bleeding, and howled.

The forest fell silent.

Trial one complete.

On the second day, she faced the Trial of Flame, Maelen had summoned it from the Circle's magic a spiritual inferno only visible to the soul. Lira sat with her legs crossed, and her eyes shut, as Maelen traced glyphs in ash around her.

"In the fire, you will see yourself, all your truths and all your weakness."

"I'm not afraid of fire," Lira muttered.

Maelen's voice grew harsh, "You should be."

The flames erupted without smoke, nor heat, they danced inside Lira's mind, consuming everything. She saw herself as a child, blood on her hands, she saw her mother's face, twisted in agony. She saw the Hollowborn tearing through the wards, laughing.

And then she saw herself older, colder, and alone, Standing among corpses, covered in ash.

Is this your fate? the fire whispered,

No, she snarled back.

Then prove it,

She reached into the flames with her bare hands, not to extinguish them but to shape them. The fire resisted, It screamed, But she screamed louder.

When she opened her eyes, the ash glyphs had faded. Maelen sat in silence, but her expression was unreadable.

"You pulled yourself out," the Seer said, "only few can."

Lira stood, her skin smudged but unburned.

"I'm not few," she said.

The final trial came on the third night, the Trial of the Oath.

She was led to the Stone of Ancients, deep within the circle's heart. Elders gathered, each carrying a shard of carved bone. Kade stood among them, silent and watchful.

Maelen stepped forward,

"This is the binding, you are no longer a girl of flesh, You are a child of the Pact. Speak your name, speak your lineage, and speak your vow."

Lira's voice rang through the stone chamber,

"I am Lira of the Seer's Circle, daughter of Veyna, granddaughter of Maelen, My blood runs with the moon's light and the ancestors' fire."

The elders murmured approval.

"I vow to defend the Pact, even when others forget it, I vow to protect the clans, even when they turn away, I vow to never kneel before shadow, nor bargain with rot, I am flame, I am fang, I am wolf."

Maelen stepped forward with a silver blade.

"Do you bleed willingly?"

"Yes."

The blade kissed her palm, and blood dripped onto the central stone, where it hissed and turned silver.

The stone pulsed as Lira staggered, her knees buckling and visions flooded her, wolves running across moonscapes, mountains split by lightning, and the Hollowborn devouring kin in the dark.

She gasped as the bond settled in her marrow,

"It was done."

As the elders dispersed, Maelen pulled her aside.

"You are marked now, The Hollowborn will feel it and they'll come sooner."

"Let them come," Lira said.

Maelen's lips pressed thin, "You can't fight this war alone."

"I'm not alone," Lira replied, glancing toward Kade.

But Kade didn't meet her eyes.

Later, Lira walked the perimeter of the enclave, her senses were sharper now with every sound clearer and every scent deeper. The Rite had unlocked something, she could feel the bond of the Pact thrumming beneath her skin, like a song half-remembered.

A cry rang out from the western gate,

And she ran.

A young wolf barely more than a pup limped through the entrance, its eyes wide with terror.

"They're coming," he gasped, "The Hollowborn... they're here."

Before he could say more, an arrow slammed into his throat, and he collapsed.

The watchtower bell screamed,

Lira was already shifting, her body snapping into wolf form, Silver fur flashed under torchlight as she leapt over the wall and sprinted toward the trees.

Lira saw them,

Figures cloaked in black mist, and their eyes burning with unnatural light, The hollowborn.

She didn't wait,

She launched herself at the nearest one, with her claws slashing.

And for the first time, she wasn't fighting as a girl chasing vengeance,

She was fighting as a true heir of the Pact.