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“I still say—” Lei Zhang began skeptically, but Ming silenced his blood-sworn brother with a sharp gesture.

“Perhaps,” Isaiah Kingston’s deep voice carried through the chamber, “we should see this awakening for ourselves.”

“An excellent suggestion.” Lord Johnathan rose smoothly. “Shall we, council members?”

Zane exchanged glances with his brothers as they stood. Ryker’s expression was thoughtful, while Archer, for once, wasn’t smiling.

The air grew heavier as they descended the spiral staircase, ancient magic pressing against their supernatural senses. Zane’s wolf stirred uneasily, recognizing power older than their kind.

“The tomb predates New Vale itself,” Lady Victoria explained as they walked. “Built by the first supernatural beings to settle these lands, before our clans, before our wars…”

“Before the divide between cities,” Lord Thanatos added. “When magic was… different.”

The staircase opened into a vast circular chamber, its walls covered in scripts so ancient even the elders couldn’t read them. Crystal formations grew from floor to ceiling, their usual clear surfaces now swirling with otherworldly light.

“Well,” Archer whispered, for once sounding properly awed, “that’s definitely not normal.”

“The crystals.” Ryker moved closer, studying the pulsing light. “They’re responding to something. Or someone.”

“A resonance,” Lady Wei Cheng confirmed. “The tomb recognizes the arrival of what was prophesied. Somewhere in New Vale, the first fated one walks among us.”

Zane’s wolf surged forward suddenly, responding to… something. A pull he couldn’t quite identify. The magic in the air felt familiar somehow, like a scent he should recognize but couldn’t quite place.

“So now do you believe?” Lady Victoria asked, though without her usual smugness. The ancient chamber had sobered even the elders’ competitive spirits.

“We must be ready,” Lord Blackthorn said quietly. “Dark Haven, Storm Gate, and Silver Crown will have felt this awakening too. They’ll come, drawn by power they haven’t sensed in millennia.”

“And the fated one?” Colt asked, his usual drawl gone. “They’re just out there somewhere, probably having no idea what they are?”

“Or what forces are now moving to either claim or destroy them,” Azrael Shadowmere added grimly.

Zane looked up at the swirling crystals, his wolf increasingly restless. Somewhere in his city, someone’s life had just changed forever. Someone who needed protection, whether they knew it yet or not.

The return to the council chamber felt like emerging from a dream into harsh fluorescent reality. The ancient magic clung to their clothes like cobwebs, but business waited for no prophecy. Territory disputes between clans required mediation. Trade agreements with overseas partners demanded attention.

Hours crawled by in a haze of contracts and negotiations. Zane found himself signing documents on autopilot, his wolf’s attention constantly drawn back to that persistent pull, like a melody just out of hearing range.

“And that concludes today’s agenda,” Lord Blackthorn finally announced, as afternoon sun painted the chamber in shadows. “Unless anyone has further matters to discuss?”

The collective silence spoke volumes. Even Archer, who’d been doodling what looked suspiciously like stick figure interpretations ofproper alpha postureson his notepad, straightened with relief.

“Finally,” Archer muttered as they exited the chamber. “If I had to sit through one more trade route proposal, I was going to start howling just to liven things up.”

“You did that last month,” Ryker reminded him, though his own shoulders relaxed as they walked. “During the maritime tax discussion.”

“And it worked, didn’t it? Nobody remembers the tax rates, but they definitely remember my stunning rendition of?—”

“Both of you,” Zane cut in, though without heat. His mind was still in that underground chamber, with those swirling crystals and that nagging sense of… something.

Ryker caught his expression. “The tomb bothers you.”

It wasn’t a question. The middle Whitlock had always been observant, especially when it came to his brothers.

“Everything about today bothers me,” Zane admitted. “Dark Haven’s movements, Silver Crown’s breeding programs, Storm Gate trafficking, ancient tombs waking up… and somewhere out there…”

“Our mystery fated one,” Archer finished, suddenly serious. “You think the elders are right this time?”

The elevator doors closed, cutting off the council chamber’s lingering magic. But that pull remained, tugging at Zane’s wolf like a compass seeking north.