The Warning
RONAN
I stalk the castle's perimeter, staying inside but close to the windows where I can monitor the grounds. My wolf senses stretch outward, scanning for any hint of magical disturbance. The wards are weakening—I can feel it in the way the air shivers, how the boundaries between inside and outside blur like watercolors in rain.
The curse's chains pull tighter when I try to step onto the grounds in human form. Even after all these years, the sensation makes my skin crawl. Through the frosted glass, I watch Rakan lead the pack on their patrol, their dark forms moving like shadows through the deepening afternoon gloom. They sense it too—something's changing.
A flicker of movement catches my attention. Briar walks through the garden below, her auburn hair bright against the grey day. The sight of her makes my chest ache. After our kiss in the library, the magic surged stronger than ever, but that only makes her more dangerous. To herself. To everything.
The temperature drops suddenly, turning my breath to mist. I don't need to turn around to know who's arrived.
"Getting sentimental, Ronan?" Angelic's voice cuts through the silence like ice. "That's unlike you."
When I face her, she's exactly as I remember—tall, otherworldly, with platinum hair and those unnaturally green eyes that seem to glow. Her presence makes the castle's magic recoil, creating pockets of cold air that follow her movement.
"What do you want, Angelic?"
Her lips curve in that cryptic smile I've come to distrust. "Love can be a powerful force," she says, moving to stand beside me at the window. "But it often comes at a price. Especially here."
My wolf stirs restlessly, responding to the threat in her tone. "Speak plainly or leave."
"Very well." She turns those glowing eyes on me. "Your little librarian is changing things. The curse responds to her in ways it shouldn't. Ways that could be... problematic."
"She has nothing to do with this." But even as I say it, I remember how the library's magic surged when we kissed, how books seem to find their way into her hands, how the very walls of Frostspire Keep lean toward her like flowers seeking sun.
"Doesn't she?" Angelic traces a pattern on the frosted glass. "The castle's magic weakens by the day, yet strengthens in her presence. The Nexus stirs, sensing the shift. And darker forces are taking notice."
A growl builds in my throat. "Is that a threat?"
"A warning." She steps closer, and the air crystallizes between us. "Your curse was meant to contain a specific threat. But love has a way of complicating such bindings. Of changing their nature."
"Get to the point."
"The point, dear Ronan, is that your feelings for her could accelerate everything. The castle's decay. The staff's deterioration. Your own transformation." Her voice softens to something almost like sympathy. "Can you really protect her when you can't even protect yourself?"
The truth in her words stings worse than the cold. Below, Briar has stopped to examine one of the crumbling walls, her hand reaching out as if she can sense the failing magic. She doesn't understand the danger she's in—the danger she might be causing.
"The curse was never meant to be broken," Angelic continues. "It was meant to contain. To protect. Your brother's actions required... specific measures."
"Leave Rurik out of this." My hands clench at my sides, claws threatening to emerge.
"But that's just it—he was never truly out of it." She moves away from the window, her presence leaving trails of frost in her wake. "The curse is part of a delicate balance. Your librarian's influence could upset everything. And there are those who would take advantage of such... instability."
A memory flashes—Rurik standing in a circle of dark magic, power crackling through the air as something vital broke inside the castle's foundations. I push it away. "What do you expect me to do?"
"What you must." Her eyes hold mine. "Unless you want her blood on your hands when everything falls apart."
The words hit like physical blows. Through the window, I watch Briar disappear back into the castle. Every instinct screams to go to her, to hold her close and never let go. But Angelic's warning echoes in my mind, mixing with my own fears.
Movement in a side corridor catches my attention—Fiona ducking into an alcove, phone pressed to her ear. The sight is wrong on multiple levels. Electronics barely function here, and Fiona knows better than to take private calls in the castle.
"...understand, but it's not that simple," her whispered words reach my enhanced hearing. "The magic is different when she's around. Yes, I'll keep watching, but—" She spots me and quickly ends the call, hurrying away before I can question her.
I file the suspicion away for later. Right now, I have a more immediate problem. Briar's scent grows stronger—she's heading this way. Angelic's lips curve knowingly.
"Remember, Ronan. Sometimes the kindest cut is the cleanest." She melts into the shadows, leaving me alone with the weight of her warning.
Briar rounds the corner, and the sight of her hits me like a physical blow. Her cheeks are flushed from the cold, her green eyes bright with that determination that makes my wolf want to howl. The curse writhes beneath my skin, demanding I either claim her or push her away.
"Ronan?" She steps closer, concern creasing her brow. "Is everything alright? I thought I heard voices?—"
"You need to leave." The words come out harsh, deliberately cold. "Pack your things. I'll have Alistair arrange transportation."
She stiffens, hurt flashing across her face before determination takes its place. "No."
"This isn't a request, Miss Everly." I let ice coat each syllable, though it kills something inside me to do it. "Your presence here is no longer welcome."
"Because of what happened in the library?" She takes another step forward, and the air between us charges with possibility. "We both felt it, Ronan. The magic responded to us. It grew stronger?—"
"It grew unstable," I cut her off. "Dangerous. Like everything else in this cursed place." I force myself to meet her eyes, to let her see nothing but cold authority. "Go home, Miss Everly. Before you get hurt."
"You're lying." Her voice shakes slightly, but her gaze never wavers. "Something's frightened you. Someone's threatened?—"
"The only threat here is your continued presence." I turn away before she can see the truth in my eyes. "Leave. Today."
The castle's magic dims noticeably, the air growing colder as hope bleeds from the stones. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Briar reach for me, then let her hand fall.
"Fine," she says quietly. "But we both know this isn't over."
Her footsteps fade down the corridor, taking every bit of warmth with them. The curse pulses through my blood, angry at being denied. Even the walls seem to shudder, shadows deepening in the corners as if the castle itself protests my choice.
Through the window, I watch darkness gather over the grounds. Rakan's howl echoes in the distance—a sound of mourning that tears at something deep in my chest. The wolf inside me rages, wanting to chase after Briar, to explain, to beg her to understand.
But Angelic's warning rings in my ears: "Can you really protect her when you can't even protect yourself?"
The lights flicker and dim throughout the castle, responding to the pain I can't allow myself to feel. In the deepening gloom, I catch another glimpse of Fiona, moving furtively through the shadows. Her earlier phone call nags at my instincts, but I can't focus on that mystery now.
Not when every fiber of my being screams to run after Briar, to take back the lies, to pull her close and damn the consequences.
Instead, I press my forehead against the cold glass, watching frost patterns spread from my touch. The curse coils tighter, as if punishing me for pushing away the one person who might have helped break it. But better this pain than her blood on my hands.
Better a clean break than watching her die because I was too selfish to let her go.
The castle groans around me, ancient stones shifting in the cold. Magic seeps through the walls like bleeding wounds, leaving trails of frost in its wake. I close my eyes against the evidence of decay, but I can't shut out the truth.
I'm losing her. Losing everything.
But at least she'll be alive to hate me for it.
A wolf's howl cuts through the gathering dark—Rakan again, but this time there's warning in the sound. Something's changed. Something's coming. And for the first time since taking on this curse, I'm truly afraid of what tomorrow might bring.
Because tomorrow, she'll be gone. And with her, any hope of warmth in this frozen hell I've made for myself.
The curse pulses once more, a dark satisfaction in its grip. After all, isn't this what I deserve? To be alone? To watch everything I touch crumble to dust?
In the distance, thunder rolls across lead-grey skies. A storm is coming.
And I've just sent away the only light that might have helped me weather it.