Chapter 5 SHADOW WRAITHS

Aria's POV

We run.

Draven's hand crushes mine as he drags me through the ruins. Behind us, the scraping sounds multiply. The darkness writhes with hunger.

"What are they?" I gasp.

"Souls twisted by the curse. They drain you slowly until there's nothing left but another wraith." He yanks me left down a narrow passage. "They can't kill you quickly."

A shadow lunges from our right. Vaguely humanoid but wrong. All elongated limbs and gaping mouth. Hollow eyes leaking darkness.

Draven's claws extend and he slashes through it. It shrieks and dissolves into smoke.

"They're getting bolder. Your scent is driving them mad. Fresh. Uncorrupted." He pulls me around a corner. "We need to reach the safe house."

"Safe house?"

"Where I've survived for two hundred years." He glances back, eyes widening. "Don't look behind you."

I look.

The entire passageway fills with wraiths. A writhing mass of shadow and hunger, flowing toward us like a tide. Their collective shrieking drowns everything.

My legs nearly give out.

"Keep moving. We're almost there."

We burst into a larger clearing. In the center stands an intact structure surrounded by crumbling ruins. The stones glow with silver symbols, pulsing like a heartbeat.

"Inside. Now."

We sprint for the entrance. The wraiths pour into the clearing behind us, a tsunami of shadows that blocks out what little moonlight filters through the canopy. They're so close I can feel cold radiating from them. Feel their hunger scraping against my skin like icy fingers.

We cross the threshold.

The moment we do, the symbols on the stones flare brilliant silver. A barrier snaps into place behind us, invisible but solid. The wraiths slam into it, shrieking in rage and pain. They claw at the barrier, their shadowy forms writhing and twisting, but they can't pass through.

I collapse against the nearest wall, gasping for air. My legs shake so badly I can't stand. My heart hammers against my ribs like it's trying to escape my chest.

Draven releases my hand and steps back, watching me with those unreadable silver eyes.

"You did well," he says quietly. "Most people freeze when they see wraiths. Or run the wrong direction."

"I didn't do anything. You dragged me."

"You kept up. You didn't panic. That's more than most manage." He moves to a stone basin in the corner, fills it with water from a spring I didn't notice. "Drink. You're dehydrated."

I eye him warily. "How do I know it's not poisoned?"

"If I wanted you dead, I'd have left you to the wraiths." He drinks from the basin himself, then refills it. "Besides, poison is too quick. Too merciful for someone who's supposed to break my curse."

The logic is twisted but sound. I take the basin with trembling hands and drink. The water is cold, pure, the best thing I've tasted in days. I drain it completely.

"More?" He's already refilling it.

I nod, not trusting my voice.

This time I drink slower, looking around the space. The interior is larger than it appeared from outside. One main room with several doorways leading to other chambers. A fire pit in the center, cold now but clearly used regularly. Furs piled in one corner that must serve as a bed. Weapons mounted on the walls. Swords, daggers, axes. All ancient but well-maintained.

"You've really been here for two hundred years?" The words slip out.

"Two hundred and seventeen years, three months, fourteen days." He says it without hesitation. "I've counted every single one."

"That's... a long time to be alone."

"Longer than you can imagine." He sits on a stone bench, finally seeming to notice he's still naked. He reaches for a pair of leather pants hanging nearby and pulls them on. "The isolation is worse than the curse itself. Worse than the wraiths. At least they're something to fight."

"Why were you cursed?"

His jaw tightens. "Because I failed."

"Failed at what?"

"Protecting the one person I was supposed to keep safe." His eyes meet mine, and there's centuries of pain in that gaze. "I failed to protect you."

"Stop saying that. I'm not whoever you think I am."

"Your name is Aria Moonstone. Born to the Silver Creek bloodline. Granddaughter of Celeste Moonstone." He ticks off facts on his fingers. "You were raised in the Crescent Moon Pack. Told you were wolfless your entire life. Rejected by Alpha Kade Blackthorn today. Sold to a priestess named Mara. Burned by silver despite supposedly having no wolf."

My blood runs cold. "How do you know all that?"

"Because I've been watching the boundary for decades. Waiting. Listening to every rumor that filters through." He stands, crosses to me. "Three years ago, I heard whispers about a wolfless omega in the Crescent Moon Pack. A girl with silver hair and violet eyes who shouldn't exist. I knew then. Knew you'd survived somehow. Knew you'd find your way here eventually."

"That's insane."

"Is it?" He gestures to my wrists. "Those burns. They're not random. Look at them. Really look."

I glance down at the silver burns on my wrists. They've stopped bleeding but they're not healing. And now that I'm looking closer, I see it. The burns aren't random blisters. They form patterns. Symbols.

The same symbols covering the walls of this temple.

"What does it mean?" My voice shakes.

"It means the seal your grandmother placed on you is breaking. Your wolf is trying to emerge. Trying to communicate." He crouches in front of me, careful not to touch. "These symbols are ancient pack language. The first language of our kind. They spell out a name."

"What name?"

"Lyanna." He says it like a prayer. Like something sacred. "The First Queen. Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. My mate who died three hundred years ago in the war that destroyed everything."

"I'm not her."

"Your soul is." He sits back on his heels. "Reincarnation is rare but real. The Moon Goddess sometimes gives souls second chances. Sends them back to finish what they started. To fix what was broken."

"I don't want to fix anything. I just want to survive."

"Then you'll help me break the curse." It's not a question. "Because survival here requires power. Requires accessing your wolf. And I'm the only one who can teach you how."

I want to argue. Want to tell him he's wrong about everything. But the symbols on my wrists pulse faintly, responding to his words. Responding to him.

"What do I have to do?"

Relief flashes across his face so quickly I almost miss it. "First, you rest. Eat. Recover your strength." He moves to a storage area, pulls out dried meat and some kind of bread. "Then tomorrow, we begin your training."

"Training for what?"

"To access your wolf. To master the powers locked inside you. To survive long enough to break this curse and free us both." He hands me the food. "But mostly, to stop being the frightened omega everyone told you that you were."

"I am frightened."

"Good." His smile is sharp. Dangerous. "Fear keeps you alive. It's the denial that kills you."

I take the food, suddenly ravenous. As I eat, a thought occurs to me.

"The wraiths. Why did they stop at the barrier? What's keeping them out?"

"This temple was built by the First Queen. By Lyanna. By you in your past life." He watches me with those intense silver eyes. "The magic woven into these stones recognizes your soul. It protects you because you created it three centuries ago."

I stop chewing. "That's impossible."

"Test it then." He nods toward the entrance where wraiths still claw at the invisible barrier. "Step outside the threshold. See if they attack you or bow to their queen."

The wraiths' hollow eyes stare at me through the barrier. Hungry. Patient. Waiting.

"I'll pass."

"Smart choice." Draven settles onto the furs that serve as his bed, his back against the wall. "Get some sleep, Aria. You're safe here. The wraiths can't enter, and I won't touch you without permission."

"How do I know you'll keep your word?"

"You don't." He closes his eyes. "But you're still alive, aren't you? Still breathing. Still free to choose. That's more than you had with your pack."

He's right. I hate that he's right.

I finish eating and curl up in the opposite corner, as far from him as possible. The stone floor is cold and hard, but after everything, I'm too exhausted to care.

Sleep pulls at me.

Just before I surrender to it, I hear his voice. Soft. Almost vulnerable.

"Welcome home, Lyanna."

My eyes snap open. "My name is Aria."

"For now." He doesn't open his eyes. "But you'll remember eventually. They always do."

I want to argue. Want to deny everything he's said.

But the symbols on my wrists pulse gently in the darkness, and somewhere deep inside me, something stirs. Something that whispers he might be right.

Something that whispers I've been here before.