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There was a long, haunted pause.

Then—movement. A distant thump. A crash.

The longhouse doors flew open with a bang, and a massive bear staggered inside, dragging something limp in its maw.

It was Dain.

Veyr gasped and rushed forward as the bear collapsed heavily onto the floor, blood smeared across its fur. Dain's body lay half-curled, unconscious but breathing.

Veyr dropped to his knees feeling for a pulse. "Thank the Goddess," he whispered. "He's alive."

All around them, people were moving—calling for water, bandages, arms. But Hagan remained still, his gaze locked on the bear.

His throat tightened.

It was Threk. Even before he shifted back, he knew.

"They have Seren".

Chapter 82

Seren stumbled more than once, her arms yanked roughly into line by the guards who flanked her. They did not consider her smaller frame, jostling her forward with muttered threats and rough, jerking hands. Her breath came quick and shallow, every inhale sharp as they pressed deeper into the cave system.

The path wound downward at first, then levelled into a broad, open corridor carved by time. Bioluminescent moss clung to the walls, casting the stone in an eerie green-blue glow. Water dripped from unseen crevices, each splash echoing off the walls.

The light of the torch held by one of the guards passed through the stalactites leading to a spray of illumination on the horror congregating along the walls of the cave. Seren did not notice the still forms until the light fell on a still face.

Lining the cave walls in silent formation stood—wolves, or what was left of them. Hundreds, maybe more. Their bodies were pale and too still, fur matted or patchy, skin stretched tight over broken bones that had once shattered and somehow... healed. Not properly. Not naturally.

Their eyes were milky, and unfocused, yet they followed her as they passed.

A shiver crawled up her spine.

Shifters never stood still...unless on the hunt. But this was more like the stillness of death.

A few peeled away from the wall and joined the group, padding jerkily at the rear of the procession, their movements having one of the natural grace that was inborn in all shifters. Seren caught faint sounds—shifting claws on stone, soft huffs of air—but no emotion. No instinct. Just... something hollow.

She tried to reach for them, the way she would with any animal. But it was like looking into an abyss. There were only faint, broken echoes like a thousand trapped voices crying out beneath ice.

Help...let us go...set me free..it hurts

She stumbled again, and one of the guards shoved her hard.

Lilja glanced back only once. Her voice was breezy. "Revenants," she said. "Those we couldn't turn... we killed. And then we resurrected."

Seren felt sour bile rise in her throat. "Why are you doing this?"

Lilja's smile barely flickered. "All in good time, little witchling. You'll understand soon enough. You don't know how long I have waited for this moment. You, my precious, you are the final piece ."

The tunnel sloped upward. The light ahead was pale and cold, seeping in like frost through the crack of a sealed window. They stepped out onto forest soil—and the breath caught in Seren's throat.

The trees were black.

Once proud pines and birches now stood as charred skeletons, their branches like burnt fingers reaching for a sky that had long since turned to ash. No birds sang. No wind stirred. The forest was silent—unnaturally so. Not the peace of stillness, but the pressure of absence. A void where life had once been.

Even the air smelled wrong—dry and sharp, with an undertone of rot and something older, sour and burnt.

The forest floor was covered in a layer of grey soot. Nothing grew. No moss, no ferns. No fallen pinecones. It was as though death had swept across the clearing and left it frozen in its wake.