The Ironfen Ruins didn't feel like ruins.
They weren't dead stone or silent echoes. The ground thrummed faintly beneath our feet, a low pulse that reminded me of a heartbeat. Veins of faint silver light traced through the cracked pillars and broken walls, pulsing in time with something deep below.
And Aria's mark responded.
Every step we took deeper into the ruins made the black veins on her arm pulse brighter, like it was syncing with the ruins themselves. Her jaw was tight, her breath shallow, but she didn't slow down.
"This place is alive," she muttered, her claws flexing unconsciously. "It's feeding off me. Or maybe… it's the other way around."
The mist that clung to the ruins wasn't natural either. It didn't drift or sway with the wind—it curled around us like it was watching. Waiting.
Ahead, the ruins opened into a wide chamber. At the center stood a broken obelisk, its surface carved with runes older than any pack legend I'd ever heard. Its cracks glowed faintly, the same pulsing silver as the veins beneath our feet.
Aria staggered as soon as we stepped into the chamber, clutching her arm. The mark had spread higher—up to her shoulder, the black veins now spiraling faintly over her collarbone. Her knees buckled.
I caught her before she hit the ground. The glow radiating from her skin burned against my palms, not painfully, but enough to feel unnatural.
Then I saw it. At the base of the obelisk, buried beneath rubble, was a shard of stone—no bigger than my hand, but it radiated a dull, heavy energy. I didn't know why, but I knew it instinctively: this was a wardstone.
I placed Aria against a cracked pillar, stepping toward the shard. Every instinct screamed to leave it alone, but I didn't have that luxury. The mark was spreading too fast, faster than her body could fight.
When I touched the shard, a sharp cold burned through my chest. The pulse of the ruins shifted, syncing with my heartbeat now. The air thickened, pressing down on me like a weight.
Behind me, Aria gasped, her glow flickering. "Kael… what are you doing?"
"Buying us time," I muttered, forcing myself to hold the shard tighter even as my vision blurred at the edges. "This thing… it can slow the mark, keep it from spreading further. But…"
My breath hitched. The shard wasn't feeding on Aria anymore. It was feeding on me.
My knees hit the ground, my claws digging into the dirt as the weight in my chest deepened. It felt like the shard was pulling pieces of me out, threading them through the ruins, tethering me to her curse.
Aria crawled toward me, her claws scraping stone. "Stop. You're tying yourself to it. If you keep going, it'll kill you before it kills me."
I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to focus on her face instead of the cold sinking into my bones. "I can handle it. You can't. Not yet."
Her silver-flecked eyes burned into mine, wide with something between anger and fear. "You can't anchor me if you're dead."
I managed a faint, strained smile. "Then I'll just have to stay alive."
The shard's glow dimmed slightly, the pulse of the ruins slowing as if sated. The veins on Aria's arm dulled, retreating slightly down from her shoulder. Her breathing eased.
Mine didn't.
My vision swam, the edges darkening, and before I could push myself upright, the mist around us shifted. It pulled together, twisting into shapes—three of them. Shadowfang scouts, their eyes burning red, drawn by the pulse of the ruins.
I staggered to my feet, claws sliding free. My strength was drained, my limbs heavier than they'd ever felt. But they weren't here for me.
Their eyes locked on Aria.
She rose slowly, her claws extending, the silver glow burning faintly beneath her skin despite the pain. "They're not taking us alive," she said quietly.
I stepped forward, planting myself between her and the scouts despite the cold still burning through my chest. "Then we don't leave them breathing."
The first scout lunged.