Chapter 76: The Blood of the First Wolves
The march toward the ruins was silent. Not out of fear but because every warrior, every soul who walked with them, knew that this was the beginning of the end.
The wind carried the scent of damp earth and distant storm clouds. Isla’s pulse beat in rhythm with the steady sound of hooves and boots against the ground. Beside her, Damian moved with that quiet, lethal grace of his, his eyes ever-watchful.
She could feel it, how he stayed close, how his fingers brushed against hers every so often, as if he needed to reassure himself that she was still here and she was. But something inside her was shifting with every step closer to the ruins.
The visions had been growing stronger. Flashes of golden eyes. Of battles long forgotten. Of voices calling a name that didn’t belong to her, but at the same time, did. She glanced at Lucia, who rode slightly ahead, cloaked in the same unreadable silence she always wore, as if she knew. As if she had been waiting for Isla to put the pieces together herself.
“Tell me the truth,” Isla murmured, breaking the quiet between them. “Who am I?”
Lucia didn’t react at first. But after a long pause, she turned her golden gaze toward her.
“You are what was lost,” the oracle said simply.
The words sent a shiver down Isla’s spine.
Damian’s head snapped toward them, his brows drawing together. “What does that mean?”
Lucia’s expression softened, but there was something ancient in her eyes. “It means that what Vincent is trying to awaken, he will not find it in the ruins.”
Her gaze landed on Isla’s stomach.
“He already found it.”
A cold silence fell between them. Damian’s fingers tightened around the reins of his horse. Isla’s breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t just a suspicion anymore. Something inside her was growing. Something old and powerful and Vincent knew.
By the time they reached the ruins, the sky had darkened with thick, swirling clouds. The structure before them was ancient, stone walls covered in vines, pillars carved with markings that looked eerily familiar.
As if she had seen them before. The moment Isla stepped forward, a pulse of something other rippled through her. A memory. A whisper of something that didn’t belong to this lifetime.
She staggered slightly, and Damian was at her side in an instant, his grip firm on her arm.
“Isla?” His voice was low, edged with worry.
She exhaled, shaking her head. “I’m fine.”
She wasn’t because through the crumbling arches, she could see it. The ritual circle and Vincent, standing at its center.
His golden eyes met hers, and he smiled.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
The words sent a jolt of cold through her.
Around him, his followers moved like shadows, their bodies half-lost to the darkness curling at the edges of the ruins.
The power here was thick, pressing against her skin like an unrelenting weight.
But Isla didn’t back down.
She stepped forward, her fingers curling at her sides. “Let them go,” she demanded, eyes flicking to the warriors kneeling in the dirt, some of them hers, captured, bloodied but alive.
Vincent exhaled a soft laugh. “You think this is about them?”
He lifted a hand and the moment he did, the markings on the stones lit up. Power surged through the air and Isla felt it like a heartbeat. Not Vincent’s, not the ruins’ but hers.
The realization slammed into her, nearly knocking the air from her lungs. This wasn’t his ritual. It was hers.
This place, this power, it was bound to her bloodline and he had been waiting for her to awaken it.
Damian moved instantly, his body tense, a growl slipping from his throat. “You won’t touch her.”
Vincent smiled, his golden eyes glinting. “I don’t need to.”
Then, with a flick of his wrist, the world shattered.
A shockwave of raw, ancient energy blasted outward, sending warriors flying, shaking the very ground beneath them.
The battle erupted in an instant.
Blades clashed and howls tore through the night. At the center of it all, Isla stood frozen because as the energy wrapped around her, as the ruins trembled under the weight of something older than time itself.
She remembered who she was, what she had been and why Vincent had been hunting her from the very beginning.