Misery recoiled at the mention of Seraphine’s name, her eyes narrowing as the words left Eryon’s lips. There was a deep wariness in her expression, an understanding of the dangers Seraphine posed.
“No,” she muttered, stepping back, her voice tinged with both caution and something darker. “You can’t be serious. Summoning her… it’s not something you should do lightly, Kael. Calling her comes with a price.”
Kael’s gaze hardened, the urgency of the situation overshadowing his fear. Bella’s shallow breathing echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of the desperate need for help. His hands tightened around hers, the thought of losing her unbearable.
“I don’t care what the cost is,” Kael growled, his voice full of raw determination. “I will not lose her. If Seraphine is the only one who can save her, then we’ll summon her.”
Eryon gave a quiet sigh, but there was no hesitation in his eyes. “We don’t have a choice, Kael. She is the only one who can help us now.”
Misery shot a warning look at Eryon but didn’t argue further. The decision had been made. They were committed.
Eryon’s jaw clenched, and he walked to the center of the room, his eyes flickering to Bella one last time. “She’s my aunt,” he explained quietly, as if to prepare them for what was to come. “An ancient wolf, older than most of us can comprehend. She dabbled in forbidden magic, magic that has consequences. She doesn’t abide by the laws of nature—she bends them. You’re asking to disturb the very fabric of the world when you summon her.”
Kael didn’t flinch. He couldn’t. The cold reality of his situation had already set in. The world was a dangerous place, and Bella needed saving, no matter the cost.
“I don’t care,” Kael repeated. “I don’t care about the consequences. I just need her back.”
Misery’s lips pressed into a thin line, the hesitation still evident in her expression. Her knowledge of Seraphine ran deep. She had heard stories about the ancient wolf, tales of power so great that even the gods feared to cross her. But there was no arguing now. Bella was slipping away, and their only hope rested with Seraphine.
“Fine,” Misery said reluctantly. “But know this, Kael. Seraphine doesn’t give without taking. And she won’t be pleased with being summoned. You will owe her—perhaps in ways you cannot imagine.”
Kael’s eyes never left Bella’s still form as he nodded. He had already made his peace with whatever came next. If it meant summoning Seraphine, if it meant paying whatever price she demanded, then so be it.
Misery closed her eyes, her lips moving silently as she began to chant in an ancient language, the words carrying an energy that seemed to crackle in the air. Her hands wove intricate patterns in the air, the magic surrounding them like a storm building just beyond the horizon. The room grew tense with the weight of the ritual, and Kael could feel the charge in the air, the atmosphere thickening, like the world itself held its breath.
As Misery continued her incantation, the temperature in the room dropped, the shadows around them growing longer and darker. The hairs on the back of Kael’s neck stood on end, the power swirling around him both terrifying and intoxicating. He didn’t know what to expect, but he knew he had no choice but to trust in the ritual. Trust in Misery and Eryon.
The room seemed to hold its breath as the last words of the chant were spoken, and for a moment, there was only silence.
And then the air exploded.
A sudden burst of cold wind swept through the room, whipping Kael’s hair and clothes in every direction. The shadows seemed to pulse, as though they were alive, swirling around them in a chaotic dance. It felt like the very walls were closing in, pressing down on them with an invisible force.
Kael’s heart raced, his instincts screaming that something monumental was about to happen. He gripped Bella’s hand tighter, as though holding onto her would anchor him to reality. His breath came in ragged gasps, and he was suddenly aware of every small detail—the sound of his heartbeat, the pressure in the air, the undeniable power gathering in the room.
Then, the voice came.
It was deep, rich, and low, with an edge to it that sent a shiver down Kael’s spine. The voice seemed to echo through the very fabric of the room, reverberating in his bones. It was cold, menacing, and ancient. And in that instant, Kael knew the being they had summoned was far beyond anything he had ever imagined.
“Who dares disturb me?” the voice growled, each word coated in malice.
Kael’s pulse quickened, his grip on Bella tightening as he stood up straighter. This was it—the moment of reckoning. He was no longer sure if he was in control of the situation, but he didn’t care. His desperation for Bella’s safety eclipsed everything else.
“I am Kael,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside him. “I seek your help. My mate is dying. She is the only thing that matters to me. Please, save her.”
The room seemed to grow colder still, the energy in the air growing heavier. A dangerous silence followed, as though the very world awaited Seraphine’s response.
Misery stepped back, her face pale, as if she could already feel the weight of what was to come. Eryon stood motionless, his eyes locked on the space where Seraphine’s voice had come from, his expression unreadable.
And then, the voice responded, each word dripping with power.
“Very well,” it said, its tone as cold and ancient as the night itself. “But know this: there will always be a price. Nothing is ever truly free, Kael. You will regret what you ask of me.”