Thunder cracked across the sky.
Far from the Southern Fields, in a secret chamber beneath the Northern Citadel, Brax stood before an altar of obsidian and bone. Around him, five cloaked figures gathered—elders too old to walk in the sun, bound to the council's oldest magic.
"The girl threatens balance," Brax said. "She awakens those who should remain buried."
"The Ember Queen," one rasped. "The prophecy warned of her."
"She will burn through the bloodlines," another hissed.
Brax slammed his palm onto the altar. Blood spilled into the carved runes, which glowed a sickly green. "Then we bind her with a stronger fire. One born of shadow. We invoke the pact."
The chamber shook.
A low growl echoed from the void beneath the stone floor.
The Shadow Pact. Forbidden for centuries. A last-resort spell forged during the Blood Moon War. It didn't bind with nature—it devoured it.
One by one, the elders chanted the incantation. The ground split. Smoke rose. And something stirred deep in the darkness—something ancient, something with eyes older than any wolf.
Meanwhile…
Back at the Southern Camp, Raine paced the newly constructed war tent. The unbound mistwalker—now called Sora—lay curled in a circle of protective runes, recovering.
Maelin returned from a scouting mission, face pale. "The Council is moving. Fast. Brax has summoned the Bloodguard."
Raine frowned. "That hasn't happened in over a hundred years."
"They're not just soldiers," Maelin warned. "They're executioners. If they reach us first, they won't listen. They'll slaughter the unbound. And you."
Xavier walked in, wiping blood from his blade. "The mist is shifting. Something darker is coming."
Raine clenched her fists. "I have to finish the next unbinding before they get here. Every one we free is another warrior."
She glanced at the runes. Her hands burned, not from pain—but from power.
"Are you sure you can handle it?" Xavier asked, watching her closely.
"I don't have a choice," she whispered. "This isn't just about me anymore."
That night, she performed the second unbinding. This time, the mistwalker shrieked so loudly the earth trembled. Its body writhed, and for a heartbeat, Raine saw herself—bound, twisted, buried in darkness.
It was more than pain—it was memory.
When it ended, another spirit wolf was born.
But something was wrong.
The flames around the camp flickered blue, then black.
A wave of cold swept through the forest.
Maelin rushed into the tent. "Raine! You need to see this."
They stepped outside.
Far across the ridge, a shadow loomed, taller than the trees. Eyes like pits of eternity blinked once… twice.
The Shadowbound had awakened.