Page 13

When Secrets Speak

RONAN

T he stone crumbles beneath my touch, ancient magic seeping from the cracks like blood from a wound. Another section of Frostspire Keep failing, another piece of my home dying. I press my palm against the wall, channeling what power I can into the weakening enchantments.

"That won't help for long." Angelic's voice cuts through my concentration. She stands in the shadows of the damaged hallway, her platinum hair gleaming despite the dim light. "The castle's magic grows more unstable by the hour."

"I'm aware." My words come out as a growl. The wall beneath my hand pulses weakly, like a fading heartbeat. "Unless you have actual solutions to offer?—"

"Solutions require understanding." She moves closer, frost spreading where her feet touch the floor. "And you, Ronan Wolfe, have been willfully blind to much."

Thunder rumbles outside, and the ancient chandelier above us sways ominously. Dark clouds gather beyond the windows, mirroring the tension building in my chest. The curse writhes beneath my skin, responding to my frustration.

"Speak plainly or leave."

"Very well." Her otherworldly green eyes fix on mine. "Your brother's experiments continue. Each one pulls at the fabric of this place, corrupting what remains of its original magic. But that's not the real problem, is it?"

I turn back to the damaged wall, focusing on channeling energy into the failing stones. But her next words freeze me in place.

"The real problem is that you've been fighting the wrong battle all along. The curse doesn't feed on power, Ronan. It feeds on isolation."

The temperature drops several degrees. Frost patterns spread across the nearest window, forming shapes that remind me uncomfortably of the symbols from Rurik's dark rituals. "What do you know about the curse?"

"More than you've allowed yourself to learn." She traces a finger along the crumbling stonework, leaving trails of ice in her wake. "The Council sent me to observe, to determine if your... situation posed a threat to the Veil. But what I've seen is something else entirely."

A crash echoes from somewhere deeper in the castle, followed by the sound of running footsteps. Fiona appears at the end of the hall, phone clutched to her ear. She freezes when she spots us, quickly ending her call and hurrying away before I can question her.

"Your staff grows restless," Angelic observes. "They sense the change coming. Some more than others."

"What change?"

Her smile carries centuries of secrets. "The one you've been fighting since she arrived. Since Briar started awakening things you thought were safely buried."

The curse pulses at the mention of Briar's name. Even now, I can sense her presence somewhere in the castle, like a warm light calling to something deep inside me. The magic in the walls seems to strengthen wherever she walks, as if reaching for her.

"Briar has nothing to do with this."

"She has everything to do with this." Angelic's voice sharpens. "Why do you think the castle called to her? Why do you think the magic responds so strongly to your connection?"

"There is no connection." The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.

"No?" She arches an eyebrow. "Then why does your curse grow stronger when you push her away, yet weaken when you allow yourself to feel? Why does the castle itself seem to breathe easier when you're together?"

Before I can respond, Briar's scent reaches me—lavender and old books, mixed with something uniquely her. She appears around the corner, concern creasing her brow as she takes in the damaged hallway.

"I heard the crash," she says, moving closer. "Is everything alright?"

The magic surges instantly, responding to her presence. The dying enchantments in the wall flare to life, stones knitting themselves together where moments ago they were crumbling. Even the air feels different—warmer, more alive.

It's her. Beautiful, curious, her .

As Briar's presence lingers in the air, I can't help but feel the weight of my own culpability. Each moment I allow myself to care for her, I invite danger—not just for myself, but for her as well.

Rurik's twisted ambitions loom like a storm cloud above us, darkening everything we touch. My instincts scream for me to shield her, to push her away before the chaos he creates can ensnare her too. But every time I think of pushing her away, the pulse of the curse thrums louder, reminding me that isolation isn't a sanctuary.

It’s a prison built of my own fear.

I press my palm against the newly repaired stones, feeling the magic surge beneath my fingertips, powerful yet fragile—a whisper to what might be. Briar's warmth in the castle feels like hope that this could end, yet my brother's shadow casts long and foreboding.

Guilt gnaws at me, twisting my gut as I recall the choices I've made, the burdens I've shouldered. It was my sacrifice intended to protect Rurik and keep our family intact, but all I've done is create a rift, allowing his darkness to flourish unchecked.

"Ronan."

The sound of Angelic's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. She steps from the shadows, her presence both chilling and commanding, as if the cold follows in her wake. Her knowing smile widens.

"Fascinating, isn't it? How the very fabric of this place reaches for her?"

I can feel the tension crackling between us, her observation hitting closer to home than I'd like to admit. The castle seems to resonate, a silent witness to my internal struggle.

"Your brother's experiments grow bolder," Angelic continues, her fingers trailing frost across the newly repaired stones, crystallizing evidence of the magic associated with Briar. "The Council watches with... interest."

The gravity of her words sinks in, heavy and real. My brother's meddling has consequences I can no longer ignore, and their roots stretch deep into both my past decisions and the perilous future we now face.

My hands clench at my sides. The mention of Rurik sends ice through my veins, colder than Angelic's magic.

"The Council has watched for years. What makes this different?"

"The balance shifts." Her otherworldly green eyes fix on mine. "Your curse was meant to contain his darkness, yet here you stand, letting it fester while you play at noble suffering."

A growl builds in my throat. The temperature drops further, and the shadows in the corners deepen. "I took this curse to protect?—"

"To protect what?" She interrupts with a sharp laugh that echoes through the hall. "Your brother experiments on wolves, twisting them into beings beyond the Veil's power to conceal. The castle's magic bleeds away while you remain locked in your own self-imposed isolation. You think you're protecting your own heart, but your refusal to let anyone in endangers everyone tied to this place. You might see yourself as a guardian, yet you're the one keeping the darkness alive."

Her gaze shifts toward the direction where Briar just disappeared, the urgency in her voice cutting through the tension. "And now... love threatens to unravel everything."

After tonight, I'm certain that Angelic isn't my enemy. She’s charged with safeguarding the secrets of the Nexus that supernatural exists on Earth, in this realm. And the curse makes me one of them, a hybrid, even if I feel like an intruder in it.

Her insistence that I ought to have seen this coming stings, a stark reminder of my past choices. I took the curse to shield Ronan, to protect my brother from the consequences of his folly, but instead, I allowed the darkness to fester unchecked. I may not fully belong to this world, but I can’t stand by while it unravels.

But my decisions shouldn't affect Briar.

"Leave her out of this."

"I cannot. None of us can." Angelic moves closer, her presence making frost spread across the floor. "The girl changes things. The magic responds to her in ways it never should. Ways that make the Council... nervous."

My wolf stirs restlessly, wanting to defend Briar from even the suggestion of threat. "The Council has no authority here."

"No?" Her smile carries centuries of secrets. "The Veil grows thin where your brother works his corruption. If his experiments continue, if the balance tips too far..." She spreads her hands, and ice crystals dance between her fingers. "The Council will act. With or without your cooperation."

The implications hit me like physical blows. The Council's intervention would mean more than exposure—it would mean the death of everyone connected to this place. To the curse.

To Briar.

"What do you want from me?"

"Want?" Angelic's laugh echoes off the stone walls. "I want you to wake up, Ronan Wolfe. Your curse feeds on isolation, yet you cling to it like armor. The girl's presence strengthens the castle's magic, but you push her away. You’ve managed to thrive financially in your frozen prison, raking in wealth while the darkness around you grows. Meanwhile, your brother twists the very fabric of our world, and you hide behind your riches."

"I'm not hiding?—"

"No?" She gestures at the crumbling walls. "Then explain why your home dies around you. Why the pack grows restless. Why every time you let yourself care for her, the magic surges stronger than it has in years."

The truth in her words burns. I press my palm against the wall, channeling power into the failing enchantments. But this time, I notice something different. The magic responds more readily, as if awakening from a long sleep.

"The curse was never meant to be permanent," Angelic says softly. "It was meant to contain a specific threat. But you turned it into a prison, not for Rurik's darkness, but for your own heart."

Outside, wolves howl—a sound of warning and recognition. Through our pack bond, I sense Rakan's unease. Something approaches. Something wrong.

"Time grows short." Angelic begins to fade, her form dissolving into the winter air. "Choose wisely, Ronan. The Council's patience is not endless."