The ground shook beneath my feet as the creatures circled, their bodies flickering between shadow and flesh. The gate behind them pulsed, each flare of its runes sending a shock through my chest. The shard embedded there burned hotter, as though it was alive—hungry.
The first creature lunged, a blur of claws and teeth. My wolf surged forward before I even thought, my body twisting faster than muscle should allow. My claws ripped through its torso, black mist bursting from the wound.
Another creature came from the side. I spun, my movements too fluid, too sharp. The shard's power coursed through me like liquid fire, making every strike easy, every enemy slower than they should be.
But every time I moved, I felt less like myself. My heart no longer beat in rhythm with my breath; it beat in rhythm with the gate. The same pulse. The same hunger.
Lyra stood near the arch, her smirk turning into something closer to awe. "See what you are becoming, Kael? You're not a wolf anymore. You're something more. Something the Veil wants."
I didn't answer. I couldn't. The wolf in me had grown louder, a constant growl threading through my thoughts. It wanted the fight. Wanted the blood.
The creatures lunged again, all at once. I moved to meet them, my claws flashing black in the dim light. Three fell in seconds, their bodies dissolving into mist that was immediately drawn into the gate. Each time one died, the runes on the arch burned brighter.
Aria's voice cut through the chaos, strained but sharp. "Kael! Stop feeding it! Every kill brings the gate closer to tearing open!"
Her words cut through the fog in my head, but only barely. The shard throbbed harder, as if angry. My claws trembled, not from fear—but from restraint.
Another creature lunged. I stepped aside instead of tearing it apart, but the effort felt like dragging myself through a storm. The shard didn't want me to hold back. It wanted more blood.
Lyra raised a hand, signaling her remaining soldiers. "Push him. Let it take him. The more he fights, the faster the Herald will come."
Her elites advanced, moving in tight formation. Not to kill me. To drive me closer to the gate.
The shard burned hotter, the hum of the ruins around us now a roar in my ears. For a heartbeat, the world flickered.
I wasn't in the clearing anymore.
I was standing before the black gate itself, massive and towering, pulsing like a living thing. Chains of shadow wrapped around my arms, pulling me closer, while a voice, deep and echoing, whispered from beyond:
Anchor. Key. Chain. Break, and the path will open.
Then I was back. My claws were buried in the dirt, the elites circling, Aria shouting something I couldn't hear over the pounding in my skull.
The shard pulsed again, one final time, and my knees buckled. I didn't fall. I changed.
The wolf in me surged to the surface, not fully taking over but burning through my veins like wildfire. My claws lengthened, my vision sharpened, and the hum of the gate became a steady drumbeat I could use.
The elites lunged. I met them head-on.
For the first time, I didn't fight the shard. I used it. Every strike was faster, harder, heavier. Their runes couldn't absorb my power now—the shard's energy tore through their defenses, cutting them down one by one.
Lyra didn't flinch. She watched with something like satisfaction, even as her soldiers fell. "Yes," she murmured. "This is what the Veil needs. A king who can tear it open from the inside."
The last elite fell, dissolving into mist. The gate roared, the tear widening until the air around it twisted into a vortex. The pull was instant and violent, dragging everything toward it—dirt, bodies, even the shattered ruins.
I dug my claws into the ground, trying to resist, but the shard inside me pulled back. It wanted the gate.
Chains of shadow lashed out from the arch, wrapping around my arms and legs, dragging me forward. Aria screamed my name as her own chains glowed, pulling her toward the same darkness.
Lyra didn't resist. She stepped toward the gate willingly, her black armor gleaming as the shadows wrapped around her too.
The last thing I saw before the vortex swallowed us whole was the full moon breaking through the clouds, its light striking the gate—and splitting it open completely.
Then everything went black.