Blake paced the length of the cave, boots echoing faintly against the stone floor. The chill in the air bit through his jacket, but it wasn't the cold that had his nerves on edge, it was the mountain. Like the stone itself was watching him. Every few steps, he glanced toward the mouth of the cave, half-expecting something to be standing there. His skin prickled with the sensation of being unwelcomed.
His brother, Ryder, stood at the entrance, arms folded, eyes trained on the expanse beyond. The cave was nestled high up in the side of the mountain, hidden behind a jagged outcrop. From where Ryder stood, he could see the valley blanketed in mist, the dark line of cursed trees stretching into the horizon, their twisted limbs reaching like claws. No sun touched this place, just a cold, grey haze that kept everything in a state of haunted stillness.
This was where Ryder chose to live after their father exiled him. Not a cabin. Not a village. A fucking mountain. And not just any mountain...the Mountain of the Damned. Home to the Shades. Creatures who had disobeyed one or more of the Ten Laws of the First Spirits. Bound by the Ancients, cursed through disobedience, the Shades were condemned to perform sacred duties that only deepened their suffering.
They are not dead. They are not living. They are the Damned.
Ryder held no grudge against Blake for claiming the birthright that was supposed to be his. He knew the truth: he'd screwed up, crossed a line no one could forgive. So he accepted his fate without a word.
Blake, for one, didn't buy the rumours swirling around his brother. Not a shred of it. But Ryder never gave him the satisfaction of an explanation. He accepted his punishment and disappeared into the shadow of the mountain.
"Exiled means no pack," Ryder had said once. "A lone wolf is easy prey."
But Ryder wasn't just a lone wolf, he was the rightful heir, twice Blake's size in wolf form and three times as ruthless. It would take a small army just to bring him down, and even then, only if they were lucky. Ryder wasn't weak, far from it. But according to Ryder, living on the edge of the Mountain of the Damned was his way of staying untouchable. No predator, wolf or otherwise, dared come close to the cursed peaks; no one wanted to anger the Ancients.
Blake understood why Ryder chose to stay close to the mountain, but that didn't stop him from pleading with him to come closer. He even offered a handful of trusted guards for protection. Ryder just shook his head. "If Father finds out, they'll be dead before nightfall." Ryder knew, despite Blake's new title as heir, that defying their father's will by associating with an exiled wolf would bring punishment, Blake would also pay a price. And Ryder? He'd sooner die than risk Blake's safety. So eventually, Blake stopped asking and accepted Ryder's living conditions.
At least Ryder wasn't alone. His childhood friend Logan, the wolf who would have been his second when he took the throne, had chosen exile with him. Right now, Logan was out checking the traps he'd set. According to him, you never knew when some fool might be crazy enough to try and come for Ryder.
The place was laced with them. Blake had nearly been caught in one himself bringing Sarah here.
Sarah.
The reason he was pacing.
After the attack, Blake hadn't hesitated. He brought her straight to Ryder. And Ryder hadn't questioned it, he just opened his door.
Blake had cleaned her up himself, wincing at the deep claw marks across her stomach, then seething with rage that someone had dared to touch what was his.
Three days had passed and she still hadn't woken up. Worse, her body wasn't healing.
Vampires healed fast. Even the most brutal injuries usually mended within hours. But Sarah's skin remained torn and lifeless, and her natural color had begun to fade into a dull, sickly gray.
Her father, Alaric, had his people searching for her, his only living child. Blake knew it was only a matter of time before she was found. He had just hoped she'd be found awake, smiling. Not like this.
Ryder had told him he knew someone who could help. A healer. A neutral one, unbound by species, loyalty, or politics.
Blake hadn't expected anything like her.
She stepped into the cave like a whisper of divine power. Her skin was a rich copper tone, glowing faintly in the firelight like sun-warmed earth. A flowing white robe draped her body, trailing the ground as she moved, the hem brushing the stone floor with each step. Now and then, the fabric shifted just enough to reveal the bare tips of her dust-kissed toes.
Her hair was a cascade of silver locs that shimmered down her back, catching the light like threads of moonlight woven into her scalp. But it was her eyes that made him forget to breathe. They were pale violet, edged with gold, swirling like a beautiful storm held in glass.
The moment she crossed the threshold, the air changed. The weight in his chest loosened. The fear, anxiety and rage that he'd held on to in the past three days had all slipped away, dissolved in her presence like fog before the sun.
Her name was Nyara. She had been inside Ryder's room with Sarah for over an hour.
Blake strained his ears, hoping to catch even a whisper from behind Ryder's door, where Nyara worked on Sarah. But all he got was silence.
Even with his heightened senses, the damn door might as well have been forged from stone and sealed with magic.
That silence was slowly driving him mad. And every second that stretched into minutes threatened to snap whatever little control he had left.
When Nyara finally stepped into the open area where they waited, her white robe whispered against the stone floor.
She didn't spare Blake a glance. Her full attention was fixed on Ryder, her violet-gold eyes unreadable. Blake felt a cold dread crawl back under his skin.
"She's been infected," Nyara's tone was grave. "The blood running through her veins is tainted, mixed with dark magic. She's fighting it, but eventually, she'll lose. She'll become one of them."
"One of them?" Blake asked, voice tight.
But Nyara ignored him, eyes still locked on Ryder, who stiffened.
"There's still hope. Someone with hybrid vampiric blood can help. Sarah's blood needs to be stabilized, and recalibrated or the darkness will consume her."
One of the ancient laws forbade such a union. A child born of natural enemies, like a vampire and a werewolf, was deemed an abomination. If discovered, they were executed without hesitation.
"And where the hell are we supposed to find someone like that?" Blake snapped, disbelief threading his voice.
Once again, Blake's question went unanswered. A low growl rumbled deep in his chest, the frustration coiling tight beneath his skin.
Ryder turned away, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "How long does she have?"
"Seven days," Nyara replied.
Ryder faced them again, turning to Blake. But before he could speak, Nyara cut in.
"Sarah is only the beginning," Nyara warned.
Suddenly, the cave chilled. Blake's breath hitched as Nyara's violet-gold eyes flashed bright white. Her voice echoed like thunder rolling off cave walls.
"A darkness was forged for them…for vampires and werewolves alike. It will spread like a plague, toppling both kingdoms, shattering balance. Chaos will consume the weak, and nothing will remain…unless she is returned to where she belongs."
With that, Nyara glided out of the cave's entrance and vanished into the trees. The temperature in the cave slowly returned to normal, but Blake barely noticed, his attention was locked on Ryder.
Ryder staggered back, collapsing against the cave wall. He slid to the ground, elbows braced on his knees, face buried in his hands.
Blake's claws itched beneath his skin. He needed answers, wanted to rip them from Ryder's throat if he had to. He couldn't bear the thought of Sarah turning into…something. He didn't know what exactly, since Nyara hadn't said, but after what he'd seen in the clearing, he had his suspicions.
But the pain radiating from his brother's mind, even through the mental wall Ryder threw up, held him still.
Something was tormenting him.
In the end, waiting for his brother to open up won out. After all, they still had seven days. And Ryder had the answers Blake needed.
Ten minutes later, Ryder leaned his head back, eyes closed, and said quietly,
"I still love her, you know. Even after twenty-one years."
Blake knew exactly who he meant.
Liora.
The woman Ryder had once been willing to burn the world for.
"I found it so silly that we couldn't be together because of who we were. Because of some law the ancients created."
A rueful smile curled his lips. "The first time I saw her, I knew she was mine. It was as though she was calling me. But…looking back, if I had known…" His voice trailed off briefly. "If I had known she wouldn't be here today because of me, I would've turned around and walked the other way. Having her alive would've meant more than holding her in my arms."
Ryder turned to Blake, his eyes glowing gold. "You're my brother, my blood. I know what it means to lose the woman you love." His last few words came out as a growl.
Ryder stood, and Blake rose with him.
Ryder inhaled. "But I can't bring her back to our world. They'll kill her. I've already lost one part of my heart. I can't risk losing the other."
He walked out of the cave, leaving Blake stunned. Was he really going to let Sarah die? And who exactly was he protecting? The other part of his heart?
Blake stepped out after him, but Logan blocked his path and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
Logan's mind nudged Blake's. "Bedroom. Bottom drawer of the nightstand. There's a hidden safe. There's something in it you need to see. Then put it back. I'll talk to him."
Logan disappeared before Blake could ask more.
Blake stalked inside, trying not to let his frustration show, and headed for the clue Logan had given him, hoping it would shed light on Ryder's behavior and maybe even how to find this mysterious 'her.'