Chapter 3 HALLOW BLOODLINE

The scent of rain drifted over the cracked forest floor as Raven followed Darius through a field of standing stones, each etched with wolf runes half-swallowed by moss and time. Every step brought a deeper chill-not from the weather, but from the magic sewn into the land itself.

Tavi clung to her hand, limping slightly on his healing leg. He hadn't spoken much since the attack. Raven didn't blame him. She hadn't stopped seeing the blood on her own claws either.

Darius halted at a stone marked with three crescents overlapping like a broken chain.

"She lives beneath this hill," he said. "In the temple ruins. Don't speak unless she asks. Don't lie. And whatever you do... don't bleed."

Raven blinked. "Why?"

"She can taste truth in blood. And fear."

Before Raven could respond, the wind shifted.

A voice rose from the earth.

"You brought her."

It wasn't a question. It was a knowing.

---

The door opened by itself-stone groaning, earth parting. Darius led them inside, down into a spiraling chamber lit by violet flame.

At the center sat Eira Moonveil, the last living Seer of the Hollow Cycle.

Her silver hair spilled down her back like liquid starlight, and her eyes-cloudy and pupil-less-glowed faintly with power. She sat cross-legged on a dais made of obsidian, her robes fluttering despite the still air.

"You carry death," she said, her voice echoing in Raven's skull. "But not your own."

Raven stepped forward, defiant. "Then tell me whose."

Eira smiled thinly. "We shall see."

---

The walls of the temple were carved with spirals and moons, ancient histories wrapped in secrets. Eira beckoned Raven closer and offered a bowl of black liquid.

"Drink. If you are brave."

Raven hesitated.

Darius nodded once.

Raven took the bowl and drank.

Fire erupted in her chest.

She fell to her knees.

Images burned behind her eyes.

---

A battlefield. Wolves with white eyes howling as mountains split. A woman-tall, crowned in flame-walking barefoot through corpses. She bore the Hollow mark across her entire body, glowing like a brand.

This was the First Alpha.

The one who tried to break the balance between wolf and moon. She fed her pack raw magic, devoured rival bloodlines, and challenged the gods.

When she was defeated, the moon cursed her line.

The Hollow were born.

And every few centuries... one would awaken again.

Chosen. Marked.

Just like Raven.

---

Raven gasped, the vision breaking.

Her palms bled from her own claws digging in.

Eira knelt beside her and whispered, "You carry her soul fragment. Her power. And her hunger."

"I don't want it," Raven croaked.

Eira touched her cheek. "But it wants you. And it will not stop."

---

Later, as Raven sat by a small pool inside the temple, she felt Darius watching her.

"She killed thousands," Raven whispered. "Why would the curse come to me?"

Darius sat beside her, quiet.

"Because fate isn't fair. And power doesn't care what you want."

She looked at him. "You have it too."

"A fragment. Like you. But yours is stronger. Purified by bloodshed."

Raven turned her hands over, hating what she saw.

"I'm afraid I'll lose control again."

"You will," he said. "But you can learn to control it before it controls you."

"How?"

Darius stood.

"We start by hunting it before it hunts us."

---

That night, Raven dreamed of fire.

She stood on a hill of bones. Below her, the world burned. Wolves screamed. And the moon bled.

She saw herself.

But not herself.

Older. Eyes pure white. Voice like thunder.

And she said one thing before the world split open:

"Choose the flame, or choose the fang. There is no both."