Chapter 69: Threads of the Past, Chains of the Future
The vision wouldn’t leave her.
Even as Isla walked through the fortress, as she trained, as she stood by Damian’s side, she felt it.
That other life. That other her. The golden-eyed woman, the battlefield, the man who wasn’t Damian. It clawed at the edges of her mind like a whisper just out of reach and it wasn’t just a memory. It was a warning.
That night, Isla lay awake, Damian’s arm draped possessively over her waist. His breath was steady against her neck, his warmth grounding. Safe. Hers … and yet… she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was shifting. That something was coming. Her fingers curled over his forearm, gripping him tighter.
She would not let the past take her from this, from him.
The next morning, Magnus stormed into the war room.
“We have a problem.”
Damian looked up sharply from the map he’d been studying. “What is it?”
Magnus threw down a bloodstained piece of cloth onto the table. “Vincent’s men left this on our patrol route.”
Isla stepped forward, her stomach twisting. The fabric was ripped from a tunic, but it was the symbol etched into it that made her blood run cold. A wolf. Its eyes painted gold.
Alaine exhaled. “That’s an old crest.”
Leo scowled. “Not just any crest. That’s from the First Bloodline.”
A tense silence settled over the room. Isla felt her heart hammer against her ribs. “What does that mean?”
Damian’s expression darkened. “It means Vincent isn’t just gathering rogues anymore. He’s looking for something bigger.”
Cassian’s voice was grim. “Or someone bigger.”
All eyes turned to Isla. Her pulse pounded because they all knew. Vincent wasn’t just toying with them anymore. He was calling to her and the past was answering.
That night, Isla found herself in the training yard, striking at a wooden post until her knuckles ached. The world around her felt too tight, as if something inside her was trying to claw its way out. A presence moved behind her.
She didn’t turn. “If you’re here to tell me to rest, don’t bother.”
Brienne chuckled softly. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Isla finally glanced over, meeting her friend’s gaze. “Did you know?”
Brienne frowned. “Know what?”
Isla swallowed hard. “That I… might not be who I thought I was?”
Brienne was silent for a moment. Then, with an unreadable expression, she said, “I think we’re all figuring out who we are, Isla. Some truths just take longer to surface.”
Isla let out a slow breath. “And what about you? Do you know who you are?”
A flicker of something, maybe pain, crossed Brienne’s face. But she only smirked. “Not yet. But I think I’m getting closer.”
By the next afternoon, scouts returned with more news.
Vincent had moved north, toward the ruins of an ancient stronghold. One that belonged to the first wolves. The golden-eyed ones. The ones Isla had seen in her vision. A cold certainty settled in her bones.
If they didn’t stop Vincent now, it wouldn’t just be a battle for territory. It would be a battle for history itself and she wasn’t sure she was ready for what she might find there.