Chapter 72: Whispers of Blood and Fate
The ruins loomed before them, jagged remnants of an era long past.
Isla’s pulse pounded in her ears as she took a slow step forward. The ancient stronghold reeked of something more than just decay, it was as if time itself had paused, waiting for someone to claim the secrets buried within its stones.
Damian was at her side in an instant, his presence a steadying force. “Stay close.”
She didn’t argue. There was something about this place, about the pull deep within her chest, that left her unsettled.
Alaine and Cassian scouted ahead, their footsteps careful against the cracked ground. Brienne followed, her fingers lingering on the hilt of her blade, ever watchful.
Leo and Magnus were in the rear, ensuring their warriors were ready. Raven had taken to the shadows, her keen eyes scanning for any sign of an ambush.
But Isla felt it first. A pulse. Not from the ground beneath her feet, not from the wind shifting through the ruins, but from inside her own body.
She inhaled sharply, pressing a hand to her stomach.
It was the same sensation she’d felt the night before, that strange humming in her veins, the feeling that something within her was changing.
Damian’s gaze snapped to her immediately. “What is it?”
She hesitated. “I…”
A rustling ahead cut off her words. Then, a voice, deep and edged with amusement.
“You took your time getting here.”
Vincent stepped from the shadows.
The tension in the air thickened.
Vincent stood tall, his golden eyes gleaming in the dim light. He wasn’t alone. Cloaked figures emerged behind him, warriors of the old bloodline, their expressions unreadable. But it was Vincent’s focus on Isla that made her skin prickle.
“You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. “The change.”
Damian snarled. “If you think…”
Vincent held up a hand. “Spare me the threats, Alpha. This isn’t about you.”
His gaze locked onto Isla’s.
“It’s about her.”
A cold shiver raced down her spine.
“You don’t know what you are yet,” Vincent continued, stepping forward. “But you will.”
Isla clenched her fists. “I know enough to end this.”
Vincent chuckled. “Oh, little wolf… You have no idea what’s coming.”
In a blur, he moved. Blades clashed. Damian lunged, meeting Vincent’s attack head-on. Warriors collided around them, steel flashing, growls filling the night.
Isla dodged a strike from one of Vincent’s men, her instincts sharper than ever. She barely had time to process it before another came at her. She moved faster than she should have. Too fast. She wasn’t just fighting, she was defending something more. Vincent saw it, too. His grin widened as he parried Damian’s attack. “It’s already begun.”
Isla’s heart pounded. She didn’t understand it yet.But she knew one thing for certain, Vincent wasn’t just here for power. He was here for her.
The battle didn’t last long. Vincent’s forces retreated, but not before leaving behind another message, another symbol carved into the ruins. A mark of the First Bloodline.
They weren’t done.
As the dust settled, Isla found herself alone near the edge of the ruins, staring at the sigil. Footsteps approached.
Damian.
She didn’t turn as he came up behind her, his warmth pressing against her back. Strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her against him.
“You scared me tonight,” he admitted, his voice rough against her ear.
She exhaled, leaning into his touch. “I’m scared, too.”
His grip tightened. “Whatever is happening… we’ll figure it out.”
She closed her eyes as he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.
A shudder ran through her, part tension, part something else. Need. It had been days since they’d been truly alone. Isla turned in his arms, meeting his gaze. The silver in his eyes darkened, his fingers already tracing slow, deliberate patterns down her spine. A silent challenge passed between them. One neither of them intended to ignore.