It ran down Althea’s spine like ice, but it wasn’t cold... it burned. A strange, searing fire that
started deep inside her and spread like a wave. Her breath caught in her throat. She clutched at her chest, swaying slightly as her knees nearly buckled beneath her.
Her eyes widened in panic.
The trees around her looked the same. The warriors stood where they had been. Gavriel hadn’t moved from his conversation in the distance. But everything felt... off. The air was too heavy. Her skin prickled. Her instincts screamed. No one seemed to notice. No one else felt it.
‘What is this? What is wrong with me?’ she gasped softly, her eyes darting around in confusion. Then everything suddenly went dark. The world tilted.
The burning in her spine spread like wildfire, her limbs turned weak, and a ringing noise filled her ears. The last thing she heard was Melva shouting her name, her voice sharp with alarm.
And then, strong arms caught her. She didn’t hit the ground. Her body slumped forward, but instead of cold earth, she fell into warmth... into someone’s embrace.
Gavriel.
His scent surrounded her like a wild forest. His face hovered over hers, his usual mask of control shattered with something raw. Worry. Fury. Fear.
Her lips parted, but no sound came. And just before the darkness took her completely, his face was the last thing she saw. Then, nothing...
In the darkness, Althea experienced her body drifting effortlessly, weightless and silent. Suddenly, a gentle woman’s voice resonated through the void, calling out to her.
“Althea, you must remember everything I taught you. When the time is right, you’ll need it to protect yourself,” the voice said, soft but firm, filled with urgency. “Remember, never show what you’re capable of unless it’s absolutely necessary. It’s safer if people think you’re weak... That way, you’ll survive. Don’t reveal your abilities. Some would use you, turn you into a pawn for their own gain.”
Althea’s breath hitched as tears slipped down her cheeks. The voice... so familiar, yet distant, wrapped around her like a forgotten lullaby. Her heart clenched. She knew that voice. She had buried it deep in her memories, but now it came rushing back, stirring something long asleep inside her.
A hazy vision began to form through the darkness. Blurry at first, like looking through fog. But then it cleared, piece by piece.
A woman stood before her.
She looked just like Althea but older, with long red-wine-colored hair that fell in soft waves, and deep forest-green eyes that shimmered with wisdom and sorrow. Her features were gentle, strong and familiar.
She was smiling...
Althea’s lips trembled as she whispered, barely able to breathe, “Mom...”
And then everything flashed before her eyes.
Forgotten memories came rushing back, one after another, like a dam breaking open. The years she had spent with her mother... the warmth of her embrace, the way she smiled while teaching Althea how to listen, how to observe, how to hide. Every word, every lesson, now flooding back like they’d never left.
But the light didn’t last.
Then came the memories she had tried so hard to bury.
She and her mother, running through the night... barefoot, desperate, terrified. The howls of werewolves closing in behind them. Not just any wolves... but sorcerers too. Dark ones.
Their chants echoing in the trees, their magic pulsing like poison in the air. Althea’s heart clenched.
She had been just a child, clutching her mother’s hand, forced to run from a world that wanted her dead before she ever understood why.
All she could remember was the tight embrace of her mother, holding her close, so close it felt like she was trying to shield her from the world itself.
“Close your eyes,” her mother whispered, voice trembling.
And then there was a blinding blast of white light. Everything vanished. And Althea lost consciousness.
*****
Althea’s body had gone still after she collapsed, but then, without warning, she convulsed, her limbs shaking violently before falling limp again. The royal healer-mage, Lakan, was already beside her, his hands softly glowing as he checked her pulse and carefully examined her chest with skilled focus.
“What’s going on with her? She’s freezing!” Gavriel growled, gripping Althea’s cold hands tightly. His heart pounded in his chest as he knelt beside her, his jaw clenched with barely contained panic.
He had never felt anything like this before. The emotions tearing through him were wild and unfamiliar... raw, chaotic, and impossible to control. Everything about it felt foreign. Unnatural.
It was a weakness and he hated it.
He was a man known for being decisive and merciless. He never spared anyone, not once. He didn’t believe in second chances or leaving loose ends. Once someone crossed him, he made sure they would never have the chance to do it again.
And just today... he had bent his own rules. Looked the other way. Let that bastard off, all because of her... Because of Althea.
‘Damn this mate pull,’ he cursed under his breath, his jaw tightening. He wasn’t used to feeling this much, not like this.
“It’s the Lycan’s essence...” Lakan muttered. “I believe her body is still adjusting to it, Your Majesty. But...” He hesitated, frowning deeply. “There’s something else. Something I can’t quite identify.”
Gavriel’s gaze sharpened. “What is it?!”
Lakan looked visibly troubled. “My knowledge in this area is limited,” he admitted with a bow of his head. “I’ve never seen a case like hers. I fear I may not be able to help her fully. You must summon Lord Uriel.”
He lowered his hands, frustration tightening his features.
“Please forgive my incompetence.” Lakan apologized.
Gavriel didn’t answer right away. His eyes stayed locked on Althea’s pale face, her lashes fluttering slightly as if trapped in a nightmare. His hands tightened around hers, jaw clenched.
Uriel... he was the last man Gavriel wanted to see. Not now. Not ever.
They were cousins, but they hadn’t spoken properly in years, not since that bitter quarrel that left things broken between them.
“She doesn’t have time,” he muttered. “Send word to Uriel. Now.”