<b>CHAPTER </b><b>132 </b>
They reached the ce marked by her blood–the circle that had shimmered on the map like a promise, fragile and burning. The forest around them held its breath, dense with shadow and the kind of silence that felt watched. Saphira stepped into the centre of the clearing, her boots brushing centre of the clearing, her boots brushing the ttened grass, and paused. The map trembled slightly in her grip, not from wind, but from the pulse of magic still lingering in the ink. The circle was faint now, but it glowed–like something waiting to be answered.
She exhaled through her nose, slow and deliberate, and lowered the map just enough to nce at the ground beneath her. <i>This </i><i>is </i>it. <i>The </i>ce <i>my </i><i>blood </i>chose<i>. </i><i>The </i><i>ce </i><i>it </i>sensed them.
Raven crouched beside her, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of her de, the other brushing aside a low–hanging branch. Her eyes swept the perimeter, sharp and unreadable. “This is it,” she said softly. “Now it’s your turn to take us the rest of the way.<b>” </b>
Jasper shifted behind them, his boots crunching softly against the underbrush. His gaze flicked from the trees to the map, then to Saphira. “How’s it going to work now?”
Saphira stared at the map, her fingers tightening around its edges until the parchment crinkled. I <i>don’t </i><i>know</i><i>. </i><i>Not </i><i>exactly</i>. <i>But </i><i>I </i><i>can’t </i><i>say </i><i>that</i><i>–</i><i>not </i><i>out </i><i>loud</i><i>. </i><i>Not </i><i>when </i><i>they’re </i><i>trusting </i><i>me </i><i>to </i><i>lead</i>.
She swallowed, her throat dry. “I need to focus. That’s all I know.”
Raven nodded once and rose, her movements fluid and quiet. “We’ll keep watch. Do what you need
to.”
She and Jasper turned, their backs forming a protective wall between Saphira and the forest. Saphira knelt, her knees sinking into the soft earth, andid the map gently on the ground before her. Her hands slid into the grass, fingers curling into the soil until she could feel the heartbeat of thend beneath her skin. It was cool. Damp. Real.
She closed her eyes. <i>‘</i><i>Vaelora</i><i>… </i><i>I </i><i>need </i><i>you</i><i>.</i><i>‘ </i>
The dragon stirred, distant and slow, like a creature roused from deep sleep. Saphira reached deeper, her breath steadying, her shoulders squaring. <i>‘</i><i>Help </i><i>me </i><i>find </i><i>him</i><i>. </i><i>Help </i>me <i>find </i><i>Asher</i><i>.</i><i>‘ </i>
Vaelora’s voice came, low and guarded. <i>‘</i><i>He </i><i>is </i><i>a dragon</i><i>. He </i><i>is </i><i>strong</i>.‘
Saphira’s jaw tightened. Her fingers dug deeper into the earth. ‘<i>That’s </i>not <i>enough</i>. <i>He’s </i><i>our </i><i>brother</i>. <i>And </i><i>he’s </i>surrounded <i>by </i><i>the </i><i>pack </i><i>that </i>hurt <i>us</i><i>. </i><i>The </i><i>ones </i><i>who </i><i>kept </i><i>him </i><i>from </i><i>me</i><i>. </i><i>From </i>us.”
The resistance was there–familiar, frustrating<i>. </i><i>Don’t pull </i><i>back </i><i>now</i><i>, </i>she thought fiercely. <i>Not </i><i>when </i><i>we’re </i><i>this </i><i>close</i><i>. </i><i>Not </i><i>when </i><i>I’ve </i><i>bled </i><i>for </i><i>this</i><i>. </i>
She reached for the anger buried deep inside–the same fire she’d harnessed <b>in </b>training<b>, </b><b>the </b><b>fury </b>that had shaped her into something sharp and unyielding. Her breath hitched, and she leaned forward, pressing her palms t against the ground.
<i>They’re </i><i>here</i>, Vaelora. <i>The </i>ones who broke us. They could be hurting <i>him </i>now<i>. </i><i>You </i>know <i>what </i><i>they’re </i>capable of.‘
Something snapped.
The power surged beneath her palms, a pulse of heat and energy that made the grass tremble and the air hum. Saphira gasped, her eyes still closed, as the connection deepened. The map shimmered again, and her vision shifted–colours bleeding into shapes, symbols glowing faintly across the parchment like veins of light,
Markers appeared. Points of light, like stars in a constetion, each one pulsing with Vaelora’s magic. Her breath caught in her throat. <i>She’s </i><i>showing </i><i>me</i><i>. </i><i>She’s </i><i>really </i><i>showing </i><i>me</i><i>. </i>
The aura settled, and Vaelora’s presence retreated with a low, satisfied huff that echoed in her chest
like a heartbeat.
“Thank you,” Saphira whispered, her voice hoarse. ‘I’ll <i>make </i><i>it </i><i>up </i><i>to </i><i>you</i><i>. </i><i>I </i><i>swear</i><i>.</i><i>‘ </i>
She opened her eyes and rose slowly; the map now marked with glowing indicators clutched tightly in her hand. Her legs trembled, but her stance was firm. Her heart thudded, steady and sure.
“I know where they are,” she said, turning to Raven and Jasper.
They looked at her–really looked–and something shifted in the air between them. Not just trust.
Not just readiness.
Jasper leaned over the map, his brow furrowed as his eyes traced the glowing markers Vaelora had revealed. Raven stood beside him, arms crossed, her gaze flicking between the parchment and the
forest beyond.
“So where is this?” Jasper asked, tapping the furthest pin with a gloved finger.
Saphira stepped closer, her boots brushing against the edge of the map. Her throat tightened. <i>I </i><i>should </i><i>know </i><i>this</i>. <i>I </i><i>should </i><i>recognise </i><i>it</i><i>. </i>But the terrain was unfamiliar–too clean, too hidden.
“It’s an area I’ve never been allowed into,” she said quietly. “Only the higher–up wolves go there. The ones closest to the Alpha.” Her fingers curled around the edge of the map. “I’ll need your help once we get closer.<b>” </b>
Raven nodded, her voice calm but firm. “You’ll have it.”
Jasper nced at her, then back at Saphira. “You did good.”
Raven smirked. “Not that I had any doubts<b>.</b><b>” </b>
<i>2/3 </i>
Saphira gave a small, grateful smile, but her chest was tight. They believe in me<i>. </i>I just hope <b>l’ot </b>not leading them into something we can’t walk out <i>of </i>
They moved quickly, staying within the tree line, the map folded tightly in Saphira’s hand. The forest thinned as they approached the edge of the territory, and then–there it was.
An old building, hunched and weathered, its stone walls streaked with moss and time. It sat like a secret, exactly where the pin had burned brightest.
Saphira crouched behind a fallen log, eyes scanning the structure. Jasper knelt beside her, his muscles tense, ready. “I can use my speed to scope it out,” he offered, voice low.
Raven shook her head. “Too risky. Let me use a spell to check for pack members nearby.”
They nodded, and Raven stepped forward, her hands lifting as she began to chant. Her <b>voice </b>was soft, rhythmic, weaving through the air like smoke. Saphira watched her, heart thudding, while Jasper kept his eyes on the building.
<i>Please </i><i>let </i><i>it </i><i>be </i><i>clear</i><i>. </i>Please <i>let </i><i>them </i><i>be </i><i>safe</i><i>. </i>
Raven’s eyes snapped open. “No one’s around,” she said. “I widened the spell–closer to the main pack house, it’s swarming. Finn’s distraction is working.”
Saphira exhaled. “That’s good.”
Raven added, “I’ve cloaked us. But we need to move fast.”
They didn’t hesitate. The three of them darted from the trees, boots silent against the earth, and reached the building. The door creaked open under Raven’s hand–unlocked.
1
Inside, the air was stale, thick with dust and old magic. In the centre of the room, chained but alert, sat Asher, Talia, and Sam.
Saphira’s breath caught. <i>They’re </i><i>awake</i><i>. </i><i>They’re </i><i>alive</i>.
Asher’s eyes widened when he saw her. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, voice rough with disbelief.
Saphira stepped forward, her heart aching. <i>But </i><i>I </i><i>am</i>. <i>And </i><i>I’m </i><i>not </i><i>leaving </i><i>without </i><i>you</i>.
<b>Chapter </b><b>Comments </b>