They fell for so long Ysolde stopped expecting to hit the ground.
Wind roared in her ears.
Shadows spiraled around them.
Crimson wisps of her own power tore after her like trailing ribbons.
Kael's broken body plummeted a few feet below her—unconscious or barely conscious, she couldn't tell. His limbs hung limp, blood trailing upward in weightless droplets as they plunged deeper into the mountain's throat.
"KAEL!"
Her voice was swallowed instantly by the void.
The crack in the earth sealed above them—
not naturally,
not slowly,
but deliberately.
Like something within the mountain had opened to swallow them and now closed to keep them.
The darkness thickened.
Air grew cold and metallic.
And then—
light.
A faint red glow spread beneath them, like a heartbeat pulsing through stone.
WHUMP.
WHUMP.
WHUMP.
Ysolde braced for impact—
They didn't hit ground.
They hit force.
A barrier of shimmering crimson energy caught them midfall, slowing their descent until they drifted downward like feathers instead of bodies broken from a plunge.
Ysolde landed on her hands and knees, gasping as the magic dissipated from her skin.
Kael dropped beside her, rolling onto his side.
"Kael—Kael—please—wake up—"
She crawled to him, shaking, her hands skimming over his chest, his throat, his heartbeat.
Weak. Unsteady. But there.
She exhaled a broken, trembling breath.
The cavern around them pulsed with dim red light, illuminating walls of black stone carved with deep grooves—lines, symbols, runes that spiraled across every surface.
Not carved.
Burned.
Seared into rock by ancient magic.
The cavern wasn't natural.
It was a chamber.
A sanctum.
Kael groaned, eyes fluttering open.
"Ysolde…" His voice was raw. "Are you—alive?"
"Yes," she whispered, brushing hair from his forehead.
"Are you?"
His lips twitched into something like a grim smile.
"Unfortunate for our enemies."
But when he tried to sit up, a violent shudder tore through him.
Ysolde grabbed his shoulders.
"Stop. You're hurting yourself—"
"Doesn't matter." He clenched his teeth. "Where is he? Where's the Alpha?"
She looked up the dark shaft they had fallen through.
"It closed. He didn't follow."
Kael exhaled, relief and worry mixing.
"So this place… chose us."
Ysolde frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Kael pushed up onto his elbows, sweat beading along his temples.
"This chamber is older than every pack," he said quietly.
"Older than the mountain itself. My father used to tell stories about a place the Old Blood built. A place only they could enter. A place meant to guard power from those unworthy."
His gaze swept the cavern walls.
"The Heart of the Mountain."
The pulsing grew stronger—
a steady rhythm matching her heartbeat.
Ysolde stood slowly, feeling a pull deep in her chest.
Like the chamber was breathing with her.
Kael's eyes narrowed.
"It's resonating with you."
She swallowed.
"I feel… something."
"Follow it."
Ysolde hesitated.
"What if it's a trap?"
Kael's gaze locked to hers, fierce despite his exhaustion.
"If the mountain wants to kill us, we're dead already."
He forced himself to sit fully upright.
"Go. I'll be right behind you."
She didn't argue. Not because she agreed with him—
but because the pull in her blood was growing stronger by the second.
She stepped deeper into the chamber.
The air warmed as she approached the far wall, the runes glowing brighter with each step. Her power responded instinctively, swirling under her skin, a low hum vibrating through her bones.
"What is this place?" she whispered.
Kael dragged himself to his feet behind her, one hand pressed to the wall for support.
"A throne room," he rasped.
"For a bloodline that shouldn't exist anymore."
"I don't want a throne."
"You might not have a choice."
She turned sharply.
"What does that even mean?"
Kael leaned heavily against the stone, breathing hard.
"Ysolde… the Old Blood didn't rule by politics. They ruled by force of nature. Their magic shaped the packs. Their will shaped kings."
He swallowed hard.
"If you carry that blood… you are bound to the mountain. Magic will bend to you whether you want it or not."
Her pulse skittered.
"I don't want to control anyone."
"You might end up controlling everyone."
Her chest tightened.
"And you?" she whispered. "Would I control you too?"
Kael held her gaze, something unspoken flickering in his eyes.
"You already do."
She froze.
"I don't mean by magic," he added quickly, voice low.
He looked away, jaw clenching.
"I mean… I follow you. Even when I shouldn't."
Before she could respond, the chamber pulsed.
A deep vibration shook the floor, traveling up her legs, into her ribs. The runes brightened, flooding the room with crimson light.
"Something's awakening," Kael growled.
A slab of stone shifted in front of them, sinking into the floor to reveal a raised platform.
On it sat an object wrapped in metal bands and ancient seals.
A heart.
But not a living one.
A stone heart, carved from obsidian, bound in glowing red sigils that pulsed with each of her breaths.
Ysolde's skin prickled.
"What… is that?"
Kael grabbed her arm, gripping tight.
"Don't touch—"
The stone heart pulsed once, violently.
Ysolde's vision doubled. Her knees buckled.
She saw—
A woman with crimson eyes standing where Ysolde stood.
A king kneeling before her.
A mountain splitting open.
Wolves bowing at her feet.
Fire. Blood. A throne of stone and bone.
Her voice echoing through the ages:
"Only my blood will wake the Heart.
Only my heir will command the kings."
Ysolde staggered back, gasping.
The vision vanished.
Kael caught her before she fell, arms wrapping protectively around her.
"What did you see?" he demanded, fear tightening his voice.
She looked up at him, trembling.
"I think…"
Swallow.
Another breath.
"I think the mountain thinks I'm its queen."
Kael's eyes widened.
Before he could respond—
The stone heart cracked.
A fissure split down the center, glowing brighter, brighter—
Then breaking open entirely.
A shockwave burst through the chamber, hurling them backward into the stone.
Ysolde hit the ground hard, vision blurring.
Kael shielded her body with his own, teeth bared against the force.
The glow settled.
Silence fell.
And in the center of the platform…
where the stone heart had been…
stood a figure.
Not human.
Not wolf.
Not alive.
A guardian of the mountain—
with eyes made of molten crimson and a body of carved obsidian.
It turned its head slowly toward them.
Then it spoke in a voice that shook the stone:
"Queen of the Old Blood.
Choose your heir.
Or be consumed."
Ysolde's blood froze.
Kael's hand tightened around hers, claws emerging.
And for the first time—
the mountain itself waited for her answer.