Page 47

The night hummed to the rhythm of fate.

Next to a glowing, full moon, the consecrated glade was transformed into ritual ground.

Old stone rings, worn bright by centuries of ritual, encircled the limits of the site, and the assembled supernatural students packed into hushed anticipation.

Every face radiated with hope and dread—this night, the mating ritual would determine destinies and declare bonds eternal as time itself.

I stood at the edge of the circle, heart pounding in my ears.

The air was charged with raw power; the very air seemed to vibrate with the promise of mate bonding.

I had practiced this moment from the day I learnt I was part of this world, and yet the reality of it all still made me shake.

The mate pull—the ancient, unconquerable power—flowed through my veins, tugging on my very essence.

I could sense it coiling, intensifying with each beat of my heart, on the verge of bursting over my methodically built barriers of resistance.

Across the clearing, the Lycan Alpha, now by his rightful title, Alexander Blackwood, marched with kingly intent.

Ebony eyes scanned through the crowd until they landed upon me.

Then, at the tingle-laced instant, the Head Elder's booming voice roared out across the congregate crowd to alert the ceremony to attention. "Tonight, with the moon in full display, the strings of destiny shall be tied fast. Let ancient summons guide you to your desire!"

A buzz went through the crowd.

I shivered as a chill ran down my spine and tension in the air grew.

Couple after couple began emerging, engaging in ritual shared by humans for centuries.

I could feel the mate pull intensify, that connection that was meant to join souls growing more potent by the second.

Yet despite the certainty of the pull, I could not keep from surrendering my stubbornness.

I had struggled so long and so hard against the power of destiny that the possibility of surrendering made shivers of fear trickle down my spine.

And then, as summoned by the very inner conflict itself, Alexander stepped into the center of the circle.

His presence was magnetic, his tone deep and commanding as he said aloud his name: "I am Alexander Blackwood, The Lycan Alpha, The one most people fears, I am that Nocturnis and today I claim my mate, Tasha, my Queen and your Luna." His declaration resounded in the clearing, a vow, a demand, and a confession.

For an instant, time froze.

I felt every nerve in my body ignite with the strength of the mate bond, a tenderness and ferocity blended together.

And then, in an instant, the fabric of the ceremony unraveled.

A sudden, rageful burst of energy tore through the clearing.

The ceiling lights flashed and went out briefly.

In a fraction of an instant, intangible strands—cold, pitiless, and profoundly wicked—oozed out of the shadows.

I had no time to feel them before they slammed into me, clamping onto me with a strength that took my breath away.

I screamed, my muscles locking up as the unseen manacles wrapped around me, pulling me back in a spasmodic unwilling jerk.

A shock-roar came from the throng, and chaos seized control.

In the midst of the chaos, I could feel my control slipping away.

The mate pull that once hummed smoothly within me now became a raging, unbridled force.

My powers—my former gifts—danced and dissolved, as if snuffed by an unseen hand.

The vast energy that I had struggled so desperately to contain was taken from me, leaving only a painful emptiness where my talents once blazed so fiercely.

I struggled against the invisible fetters, but they would not give way.

The cosmos spun wildly; flashes of red and black, tormented cries and the shattering of ancient rock, all jumbled together in a maelstrom of terror.

In the midst of it, I barely saw Alexander's shape as he charged ahead in maddened fervor—only to be caught up in the same combat, his eyes aflame with a mixture of rage and hopeless despair.

And then... I became blind.

I opened my eyes to pain—burning, aching pain—and confusion.

I lay on the ground, hard and cold, unable to move.

My flesh burned, and I could feel the trickle of blood down my side where the unseen tentacles had taken me.

That raw energy that once coursed through me now decayed to an agonizing emptiness, and I knew in horror that I had no longer any control over my powers.

I heard voices distant around me—students screaming, someone shouting my name—but everything seemed distant, like I was under water.

I opened my eyes, and a blur of worried faces hovered over me.

Amidst that wild aftermath, one face cut through: Mina, her worried and determined face creased into a knot as she knelt beside me.

"Tasha—wait, please," she implored, her shaking voice firm as she pressed a cold, wet cloth to a torn gash on my arm.

I could barely discern what she was saying through the haze of pain and confusion.

The world beyond my range of vision was a formless blur of sound and darkness, but I felt the unmistakable warmth where her fingers brushed against mine—a gentle glow that began to seep into my flesh, repairing the torn edges of my tissue.

"Mina... what did you do?" I croaked, my voice a mere whisper. The pain still lingered, but it was fading, replaced by a warm, near-miraculous sensation.

Her eyes glowed with a mixture of relief and unhappiness.

"I—I possess this healing talent, Tasha. I don't even know how to explain it to myself, but somehow it seems like when the uproar of the ceremony disrupted the ritual, something within me moved. I can feel your agony, your blood... and I couldn't do nothing. I had to try."

I stared at her in disbelief, my mind reeling with the implications.

Mina, who had always been quiet and thoughtful, now possessed an ability that defied everything we'd known. Her healing touch was gentle yet powerful, mending the wounds that marred my skin, her blood—or perhaps her magic—seeping into the mark left by Alexander's failed attempt to secure the mate bond.

As the healing flowed through me, I could sense my strength returning slowly.

But at that time of physical recuperation, a chill entered my heart.

The ceremony had been ruined; the sacred ritual, which was meant to unite us, had turned into a massacre of shattered hopes and trampled destinies.

I could see the pain in the eyes of those around me—students grieving comrades lost to the violence, and others, shattered by the incident, floating into a fury that foreshadowed future revolt.

I tried to stand, my body trembling, as I watched Alexander struggle against his own invisible shackles.

His bellow, fury and despair mixed, echoed through the clearing.

I could only remain and watch, unable to do anything, as the bond that was meant to hold him and me together was torn asunder by something we could not see or understand.

A terrifying epiphany gripped me: the lawless attack had been greater than an interruption—it was an announcement. An announcement that the balance between our worlds had been irrevocably shattered, and that the war we'd feared for so many years was finally upon us.

While being stood up by Mina, whose healing caress still pulsed on my flesh, I perceived movement out in the distance.

Frantic cries echoed as the students ran wildly about, and in the chaos, a shadow moved swiftly around the perimeter of the clearing.

I caught a glimpse of Frigg—her face contorted with agony as she spoke in a language older than the ages, her hands weaving wild spells.

But before I could comprehend what was happening, a flash of dark energy burst out from her and I stood by as she stumbled.

In a last, tragic moment, she fell, her light gone from the world.

My own breath was frozen in my throat as I realized with a plummeting heart that Frigg—our venerable guardian—had sacrificed her life trying to drive out the unnatural power.

Her library, filled with old books and protective spells, would be left behind as her legacy—a beacon of hope, perhaps, for those who would continue the torch in the coming war.

The campus was in turmoil.

In the midst of the shock and grief, rumors spread like fire.

All of us lost our partners that night; some were so overwhelmed by grief and anger that they turned and ran amok, leaving our previously cohesive community torn apart and on the verge of outright war.

The price of our secret lives had been thrown into blood and shattered ties.

I was left standing afterwards, hurt, bruised, and irrevocably changed.

The restorative power of Mina had saved my body, but the wounds—secret as well as apparent—would be a testament to the night that destiny turned cruel.

I could sense an abiding emptiness where my powers had previously flowed unobstructed—a space that I believed could never be filled.

However, my agony had not been loud enough to silence a quiet determination that was stirred within me.

I understood that if I were to regain my fate, if I was to repair the broken ties that bound us all together, then I would have to confront the war that lay ahead of me.

Mina dropped to my side, her eyes warm but unyielding. "Tasha, you must stay with us. We can't do this without you. I. I have something inside of me now—a gift, maybe. I can feel it healing, repairing not just wounds, but the fabric of what's been torn apart."

Her words, spoken with such tender hope, were a lifeline. I nodded faintly, full of gratitude and sorrow. The brand on my body pulsed faintly, a dark sign that still held the promise of our fate—a promise of union and of conflict.

At the center of that ruined ritual, I could feel a storm gathering on the horizon—a storm that would change all things.

The mate's bond had been severed, our destinies scattered like broken glass. And yet, at the very moment of loss, was the sheen of something new. I knew that the ritual was not an end but the start of a far more perilous road—a road on which love and war would intersect, where the price of fate would be paid in full.

As I was carried away by anxious friends, I caught a final, lingering look at Alexander Blackwood.

His was a mask of sorrow and resolve as he fought to break free of the invisible chains.

His eyes, that before had flashed with the brilliance of an unbreakable tie, now blazed with the searing pain of lost love.

I understood in my heart that our destinies were forever entwined, yet the devastation of the night had created an open wound that perhaps would never heal.

Later, as the campus slowly returned to its normalcy, I sat with Mina in a silent infirmary.

The room was subdued except for the soft hum of mumbled prayers and the sound of makeshift bandages.

Mina's healing power had calmed my body, but I could still feel the lingering effects of that savage energy pulsating beneath my skin. Mina regarded me, and I saw in her eyes a reflection of my own troubled inner self—a maelstrom of fear, regret, and guarded hope that we might somehow forge a new future from the ruins.

Outside, the night air was cold and heavy with rain smell.

I could hear the distant growl of thunder, knowing that the storm was just starting.

The mating ritual had been a catastrophic tear in our tightly hidden world, a moment that shredded the old traditions and ushered in the beginning of something much darker—a war that would test every bond, every secret, every heartbeat.

I closed my eyes, trying to let its restorative warmth seep deeper within me.

"We will rebuild," I spoke softly, as much to myself as to the rest of them.

"We must," even if only so we can suffer its loss in a war that would shatter our world into a thousand pieces.

The words were a pledge—a promise that I would not let the anguish of this evening haunt me for the rest of my life.

When dawn seeped over the ruined clearing, dyeing all around it a yellowed grey, I knew that I was lost but unexpectedly alive.

My destiny had been torn apart, yet in the splintered fragments, I sensed some hope.

The storm which had devastated us now lay behind—bloodied evidence of the price our silence had borne and the worth of hidden connections.

I also knew that the following days would be the most difficult of my existence.

The maraud attacks, the loss of so many comrades, and the fissures in our supernatural society would require sacrifices and test allegiances I couldn't yet consider. But I knew this one thing for certain: if we were going to survive, if we were going to discover our niche in a world that had grown cold and unforgiving, we would have to fight for every shard of hope.

I looked up to the horizon where dark storm clouds rolled, and in the distance, I noticed a symbol flash on a shattered wall—a sign, perhaps, that the ancient prophecies were being fulfilled. It was a final, silent message: the war had just begun.

Taking deep breaths as the last whisps of pain faded into a silent determination, I swore to myself that I would never let this night break me.

I would take all pieces of fractured ritual—every wound, every loss—and I would shape it into strength.

The path ahead was unknown, and the price of destiny was steep, but I was willing to pay.

For in the darkness of despair, amidst the chaos and the ruin, there had shone a spark—a hope that, together, we could rebuild and be stronger.

And so, with the tempest raging outside and within me, I took one last shuddering breath and emerged into the uncertain dawn, knowing that our fates were now forever tied with the flames of war and the promise of redemption.