Chapter 5 What Bleeds Under

Kael's POV

The wind howled through the outer halls, rattling the stone like the cry of something long buried. I had known blood. War. Pain. Betrayal. But nothing unsettled me like Raven's silence.

She had not spoken to me since healing the pup.

Even now, hours later, I could still feel the way her magic wrapped around the boy, seeping into his marrow like molten gold. That was not ordinary healing. That was something older. Something raw. And it terrified me, not because I feared her, but because it confirmed what I had always suspected: I never truly understood her.

I stared out the window of the war room, the scent of rain thick in the air. It would storm soon. Good. Let it. Maybe the land would weep out its curse.

Footsteps clicked behind me.

"You should not have brought her here," Selene said quietly, arms folded. "It is not safe."

"For her?" I asked without turning.

"For anyone."

I turned then. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her golden eyes sharp with judgment. Once, I trusted Selene with every battle strategy, every piece of me that Raven could not reach. Now, her presence felt like a coiled serpent beside the throne.

"She is healing wolves," I said. "Where others failed."

"She is breaking laws," Selene snapped. "Blood magic is not a gift. It is a weapon."

"Then maybe it is time we used one."

That shut her up.

I moved past her, but not before I caught the shift in her scent. Fear. Not just of Raven, but of what Raven meant for me. For the bond.

I made my way toward the west wing, past tapestries of long dead alphas and stories carved into stone. Memories flashed. I remembered the night I rejected Raven in this very hall, my voice cold, her eyes full of silent fire.

I never got over her.

Not really.

Not when I watched her walk away.

Not when I smelled her on other wolves.

Not when I burned her name into my fists during every training round.

The bond had snapped that night, but something had always remained tethered. Now it pulled me like a chain around my ribs.

I stopped at her door and knocked.

Silence.

I knocked again. "Raven."

Nothing.

I opened the door.

She sat cross legged on the floor, surrounded by books and loose herbs, her eyes glowing faintly with energy. She did not look up.

"You cannot just barge in," she murmured.

"I needed to see you."

"For what?" Her voice was cold. "To remind me I am temporary? Or to ask how I used the blood again?"

I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. "You saved him."

"And?"

"And I need you to keep doing it."

She finally looked at me. "Do not ask me to become what I ran from."

"I am asking you to become what this pack needs."

Raven stood slowly, the magic retreating from her skin like a ripple. "Your pack hated me the moment I stepped inside. Your council watches me like I am a ticking bomb. And Selene, do not get me started on Selene."

"Selene does not speak for me."

"She used to."

That stung. She knew it. I saw the flash of guilt in her eyes, but she did not let it linger.

"I found something," she said, shifting the subject. She lifted a worn leather-bound journal. "I think it belonged to your mother."

I frowned. "My mother died before I could speak."

"She was no ordinary Luna," Raven whispered. "She knew about the bloodlines. She studied them. There are entries in here about a prophecy. About me."

I stepped closer, heart pounding.

"She wrote that a child born under the last crimson eclipse would awaken the cursed marrow. That child could destroy a pack, or heal it completely."

My voice came out hoarse. "You were born on the last crimson eclipse."

She nodded.

I sat down, hands shaking.

"I am not sure what it means yet," Raven said. "But I think your curse is older than we thought. It is not an enemy's hex. It is a debt."

"A debt?"

She nodded. "Something was promised. Something was broken. Now the land is claiming retribution."

Outside, thunder cracked.

Raven jerked back.

I reached for her hand on instinct. She pulled away.

"Do not," she whispered. "I cannot think straight when you touch me."

"I know," I murmured. "I cannot either."

We stood in heavy silence, the storm building around us like a second heartbeat. Then Raven said something that turned my blood to ice.

"The pup I healed?"

"Yes?"

"He was not cursed."

"What?"

"He was infected."

"By what?"

She hesitated. "Not what. Who."

Lightning slashed the sky, illuminating the fear in her eyes.

"I need to go into the forest," she said. "To the ruins past the border."

"No one returns from those ruins."

"Then send someone else to stop the curse."

I ground my teeth. "You know I cannot let you go alone."

She grabbed her satchel and moved to the door. "Then keep up, Alpha."

I followed her into the storm.

Through the trees. Past the wards. Beyond the path.

Deeper into the belly of the curse.

Hours later, the ruins came into view, twisted stone spires coated in moss, the air thick with ancient magic. Raven slowed, eyes scanning the symbols etched into the earth. Then she froze.

"What is it?" I asked.

She pointed.

There, etched into the altar, in blood so old it looked like rust, was her name.

RAVEN CALLAHAN.

My mouth went dry.

"Why is your name here?" I whispered.

She did not answer.

Instead, she lifted her hand to the stone.

And it opened.

Like a door.

Like a mouth.

And from its depths, something ancient stirred.

Raven stumbled backward, her eyes wide with horror. Inside the altar, nestled in black roots and bone, lay a second scroll.

Not written by her mother.

Written by me.

From a time I did not remember.