Kael's POV
The vines had vanished. Draven and his Ironfang warriors retreated like ghosts swallowed by the forest, but their threat hung in the air like smoke after a fire.
And Raine—she stood in the middle of the battlefield like a crowned storm.
My warriors stared at her not with hate, not even with confusion, but something worse: awe.
She hadn't just returned. She'd taken control. And she'd done it without me lifting a hand.
I walked into the war chamber alone.
Jaxon joined a moment later, throwing down his bloodied blade. "They were holding back. That wasn't even a full assault."
"I know."
He watched me for a long beat. "You looked ready to hand yourself over to Draven back there."
"I was."
"And she stopped you."
"She did," I admitted.
Jaxon didn't smile. "You don't deserve her help."
I looked at him. He didn't flinch. He was right.
But what neither of us said aloud was the more dangerous truth—if Raine wanted this pack, she could take it. Tonight.
---
Later, I found myself wandering the hallways of the Bloodfang keep, drawn by the scent of wild roses and old regret. I followed it to the eastern balcony.
She was there. Alone. Or so I thought.
Until Laziel stepped from the shadows with his arms folded across his chest, silent as always. A warning.
Raine stood at the edge, arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the horizon.
"You came," she said, not turning.
"I had questions."
"And I have scars," she replied coldly. "We all carry something."
"I didn't expect you to save me."
She turned then. "I didn't. I saved the pack. Don't confuse the two."
The sting was deserved. I stayed silent.
"Tell me," she said. "Do you even remember why you rejected me?"
I looked away.
"It wasn't because of weakness," she continued, voice like ice. "It was politics. The Elders told you I couldn't give you an heir. That I was too wild, too strange. Too much magic in my blood."
My silence was answer enough.
"So you gave them what they wanted."
"Yes."
"Then give me what I want," she said. "Tell them the truth."
Just then, a Bloodfang scout sprinted across the hall, breathless.
"Alpha Kael—there's something at the shrine. It's burning. The old stone..."
Raine and I both moved. By the time we reached the eastern shrine, the stone pillars were cracked, burning with black fire.
And in the middle, carved into the ground, was a sigil.
Laziel stepped forward. "That's the mark of the Hollow Bloodline."
Nyssa arrived seconds later. Her face paled. "Someone awakened it."
"The what?" Jaxon barked.
"It's an old bloodline," Nyssa whispered. "Cursed. Lost. Suppressed by the council generations ago. They buried it because they feared its power."
Raine stepped toward the flames—and they bent around her, avoiding her skin.
"It's in her," Nyssa said. "She's not just a former Luna. She's the last of the Hollow Bloodline."
I stared, cold creeping into my bones. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She met my eyes. "Because you never asked who I truly was. You only listened to those who told you what I wasn't."
I tried to speak, but the words withered in my throat.
"I gave you my truth, Kael," she said. "And you handed it over to those who wanted me gone."
Hours later, I stood in the pack library. The ancient scrolls had dust on them so thick I could taste time. I found the section locked away from warriors—hidden texts, forbidden bloodlines, censored history.
The Hollow Bloodline.
Wielders of shadow fire. Manipulators of living flame. Falsely accused of corruption by the High Council. Purged, scattered, exiled.
And now… reborn in Raine.
I sank into a chair, scroll in hand.
They'd told me she was dangerous.
They were right.
But not in the way they feared. She was dangerous because she couldn't be controlled. Because she refused to be less than what she was.
And I had tried to break her for it.
From deep in the forest, a howl echoed—long, low, not Ironfang.
Another scout stumbled into the clearing.
"Alpha—we've got another problem."
"What now?"
"The Crimson Pact is moving. And they're not here for us. They're here for her."
Raine didn't flinch. "Let them come."
But I saw her hand twitch—just once.
Because she knew: the Crimson Pact didn't leave survivors.
And they knew exactly who she really was.
Raine's POV
I couldn't sleep.
The mark at the shrine—the symbol of the Hollow Bloodline—burned behind my eyelids every time I closed them. I saw it branded into the stone, into memory. Into me.
Everything had changed, and yet nothing had.
The whispers came at night now. Not voices, but something deeper—more primal. The flame inside me flickered with each breath, a warning and a promise.
Mira was the first to notice. Her voice was gentle but laced with concern.
"You're not just carrying power, Raine. It's carrying you."
She wasn't wrong. Ever since the fire bowed away from my skin, the power inside me hadn't stopped pulsing. It whispered at the edge of my thoughts. Not words. Not commands. Just... hunger.
Nyssa placed a ward over my sleeping space, her magic laced with obsidian salt. "This will hold it back," she said. "For a time."
"What is it?" I finally asked.
She hesitated. "The Hollow Flame is living magic. It's not passive. It tests you. Bends you. If you let it, it will own you."
"And if I don't?"
She looked me dead in the eyes. "Then it will burn everything around you until nothing's left."
At dawn, a raven arrived. A single black feather tied with silver string. No message—just a symbol.
Nyssa's face went rigid. "Evelyne's calling."
I turned sharply. "Evelyne's still alive?"
"She's the last seer of the Hollow Bloodline. Cursed. Hiding. But if she's calling you now, she's seen what's coming."
She wasn't wrong.
We left Bloodfang territory that evening, taking the hidden trails east through the Ashveil forest. Laziel led the way. Torran brought up the rear, quiet and massive as always. Mira rode beside me, constantly checking the tree line. Nyssa levitated half the way, reading sigils and speaking to shadows.
As we neared the ruins, even the trees seemed afraid. Bark peeled in strange patterns. The wind whispered names I didn't know but felt like mine.
We reached her circle by moonrise. Evelyne stood waiting, not a torch near her. Yet her presence glowed like embers in the dark.
"You've awakened it," she whispered the moment I stepped into her circle. "The Flame has chosen. And now the burden begins."
"I didn't ask for this," I said.
"No," she replied. "But it asked for you."
She motioned to a ring of fire drawn with ash and blood.
"Step inside. Accept the Hollow Sight. See the truth… or be ruled by the lie."
I hesitated. Mira reached out, but I shook my head. Then I stepped in.
Pain.
Fire raced through every nerve, not burning flesh, but memory.
I saw my mother's face—screaming, clutching me as figures dragged her away.
I saw Kael turning his back on me, but behind him stood the Council, whispering, nodding.
I saw a throne made of wolfbone… and me sitting on it.
And then—
A girl. Younger. Eyes like mine. Power brimming in her palms.
"She's coming," Evelyne's voice echoed. "The twin flame. If you don't rise, she will. And she will burn the world to cinders."
Then it stopped. I dropped to my knees, gasping, the ground spinning.
Evelyne knelt beside me. "The Hollow Bloodline never ends in peace. It ends in choice."
I looked at her. "What choice?"
"To lead… or to destroy."
That night, I sat by the riverbank. The moonlight danced in the water. Torran approached, his heavy steps silent.
"You didn't say what you saw," he said.
I didn't answer.
Because the truth was, part of me had felt it—the hunger. The desire to let the Hollow Flame rise and consume everything. To end the lies, the betrayal, the council, the pain.
But I also saw the cost.
And I wasn't sure I had the strength to stop it.
Mira joined us, followed by Laziel. "What happens now?" she asked.
"We train," I said. "We prepare. Because the next time someone comes for us… I won't hold back."
Crimson Pact
We returned to Bloodfang by morning only to find chaos waiting.
A scout fell to his knees in the courtyard. "Crimson Pact," he rasped. "They've crossed the border. They seek… the Hollow Queen."
Not Luna.
Not Alpha.
Queen.
Kael met me in the war room. His eyes were storm-dark. "You made enemies I can't even name."
I faced him without blinking. "You made a mistake you've never owned."
His jaw clenched. "They're demanding a meeting. In person. At the edge of the Vale."
"They'll try to bind me," I said.
"I know."
I studied him. "Then why let me go?"
"Because I can't stop you," he said. "But I'll be watching. And if they try anything—"
"—You'll what?" I asked. "Save me again?"
Silence.
He didn't answer.
At twilight, we rode to the Vale. The Crimson Pact was already there—masked, robed, thousands of them. And at the center stood a girl. Young. Pale. Power dripping from her like oil and fire.
Evelyne's words returned:
"The twin flame is coming."
And I knew.
She was me.
If I had chosen vengeance instead of justice.
If I had burned instead of survived.
And she had come to take the throne.
The girl stepped forward, her bare feet leaving scorched earth in her wake. The air trembled as she lifted her gaze—my gaze—and smiled.
"Sister,"she whispered, her voice a wildfire in my skull. "You were meant to rule at my side. But you hesitated."
The Crimson Pact knelt as one. Not to me.
To her.
Behind me, Kael's breath hitched. Nyssa's wards shattered like glass. And the Hollow Flame inside me roared to li
fe—not in fear.
In recognition.
Because the girl wasn't just my twin flame.
She was the part of me I'd buried alive.
And she had come to claim what was hers.
Kael's hand closed around my wrist. "Raine," he warned. But his eyes flickered to her—just once. And I knew. He'd seen her before.