Chapter 8 The Blood Omen

Elara's POV

The bell in the chapel tolled thrice, a hollow sound that seemed to rattle through my ribs. I pressed my palms over my ears, but the echo lived inside my skull, a warning I could not shut out. When the silence returned, the air outside had turned brittle, as if the world itself held its breath.

I had not told anyone about the dream that woke me gasping last night. A forest drenched in crimson light, wolves howling in unison, and a single voice that whispered my name as though it carried the weight of centuries. I had seen Kalen in the dream, his eyes no longer the burnished gold of the Alpha but twin storms of fire. He had stretched a hand toward me, blood dripping from his fingers, and when I reached back, the ground cracked open beneath us.

The elders would call it a vision. My father would call it a sin. I called it a curse.

I hurried across the courtyard toward the chapel doors, skirts brushing against the stone path slick with last night's rain. Whispers followed me, though no mouths moved. Perhaps they lived only in my head, carried from the fragments of the dream. Yet when I stepped inside the chapel, a line of eyes turned toward me as if I had walked in guilty, already condemned.

The elders were gathered near the altar, their robes heavy with dust, smelling faintly of herbs and smoke. They stopped their muttering when they saw me. My father cleared his throat, his expression stiff.

"You should not be here, Elara," he said.

"Then why was I called?" My voice trembled despite my attempt to hold it steady.

The eldest of the council, gray-eyed Corvin, lifted a weathered scroll. "Because of this."

The parchment looked older than bone, edges frayed, symbols carved in ink so deep they seemed to bleed through. When he unrolled it, my chest tightened. I recognized the sigil pressed at the top-the crescent moon with a drop of blood falling into its curve. The same one from my dream.

"It is an omen," Corvin declared, his voice low, resonant. "One tied to the priestess bloodline." His eyes, sharp as a hawk's, fixed on me.

My mouth went dry. "What does it say?"

Another elder's lips curved faintly. "That the Alpha's curse can be broken... but only by sacrifice."

The words landed like stones in my stomach.

I could feel Kalen's gaze even though he was not present. His shadow seemed carved into the room, a presence woven into the words themselves. Was this why fate kept dragging us together, no matter how far I tried to step back?

Father's face paled. "You will not touch her."

Corvin arched a brow. "Do you think we are blind? The signs have already begun. The claw marks near her home. The dreams. The Alpha's unnatural pull toward her. It is written." He jabbed a crooked finger at the scroll. "She is the Blood Omen."

The words swelled inside me like fire. I stumbled back, my breath sharp, the chapel spinning. I wanted to deny it, to scream that they were wrong, that I was no prophecy wrapped in flesh. But part of me, the part that had felt Kalen's touch burn into my skin, knew there was truth hidden inside those lines.

Father moved between me and the council. "You will leave my daughter out of this madness."

But the elders' silence said otherwise.

I fled before they could see the terror in my eyes.

The forest swallowed me whole. Branches scraped against my arms as I pushed deeper, seeking air, seeking space, seeking anything but the suffocating weight of those words. I pressed a hand to my chest, my heart beating so fast I thought it might burst free.

Blood Omen.

Sacrifice.

The syllables hunted me even here.

A twig snapped behind me. I whirled, skirts twisting around my ankles. Shadows shifted between the trees, and from them emerged the very man whose absence felt like presence, whose name lived beneath my skin.

Kalen.

His gaze burned, a storm barely chained. "You should not be out here alone."

The laugh that escaped me sounded more like a cry. "Alone is safer than anywhere near you."

His jaw tightened. "What did they tell you?"

I hesitated, then spat the word that had been branded onto me. "Blood Omen."

The color drained from his face, though his eyes flashed with feral light. He took a step closer, each stride a warning and a promise. "They should not have told you. Not yet."

I backed against the trunk of a tree. "Not yet? How long have you known?"

"Long enough," he answered, voice hushed, dangerous. "Long enough to fear it."

Something in his tone cracked the ground beneath me. Fear it. Not me. The prophecy.

"Tell me what it means," I demanded.

His hand lifted as if to touch me, then curled into a fist. "It means that fate is cruel. That it will tear you apart if you stay near me."

I shook my head, the words breaking free before I could cage them. "Then why does it keep pushing us together?"

The silence between us throbbed, heavy with something neither of us dared name.

Kalen's breath roughened. "Because omens do not choose. They bind. And if the scroll is true, then your blood is the key to the curse I carry."

The world tilted. My lips trembled with words I could not form. His curse. My blood. A bond written before I even drew breath.

Before I could speak, a howl ripped through the night. Not one of his pack. Different. Darker.

Kalen's head snapped toward the sound, his body tense. "We are not safe here." He caught my arm, his grip hot against my skin. "Run."

We crashed through the undergrowth, the forest alive with snarls and whispers. My lungs burned, my legs screamed, but I kept pace with him, driven by a terror that clawed at my spine. Branches tore at my clothes. Shadows lunged at the edge of vision.

Then a figure broke from the darkness-a wolf, larger than any I had seen, its fur mottled with scars, its eyes burning red. Not from Kalen's pack.

It lunged.

Kalen shoved me aside, shifting mid-leap, his body splitting into shadow and muscle and fur. His wolf form struck the beast with a crash that shook the trees. Snarls ripped the night apart, claws tearing earth and flesh.

I scrambled back, my chest heaving, watching two monsters collide under a bleeding moon.

Blood spattered the ground.

And then, as if the forest itself remembered the prophecy, the earth trembled. The scarred wolf's blood soaked into the soil, and from it rose a faint glow, a sigil burning across the ground-the crescent moon with a drop of blood. The same symbol from the scroll.

The Blood Omen.

I stared, frozen, as the light crawled toward me like veins of fire.

Kalen's wolf pinned the enemy, jaws tearing through its throat. But even in victory, his gaze swung to me, and in those golden eyes I saw fear-fear not of the battle, but of what the omen had already begun.

The ground beneath my feet cracked, a pulse of power rushing upward into my veins, searing me from the inside out.

I screamed.

And the forest went dark.

Elara collapses as the Blood Omen awakens inside her, binding her fate to Kalen's curse in a way neither of them can escape.