The howls didn't fade—they multiplied.
Long, warped cries echoed across the hills of Beacon Hills, too discordant to be wolves, too predatory to be human. Alex's heart pounded as he scanned the tree line near the nemeton. Everyone around him shifted into defensive stances.
Scott's eyes flared red. Liam's claws extended. Even Lydia, no warrior, stood firm, her breath catching like a warning was forming deep in her throat.
"They're coming," she whispered.
From the darkness, figures emerged. First one, then five, then a dozen. Some moved on two feet, others on four. But none of them looked entirely whole.
Eyes clouded in shadow. Teeth too sharp. Limbs that bent in unnatural ways. They looked like werewolves… but wrong. Hollow. Twisted.
Alex felt it immediately. "They're wraithbound."
Derek tensed beside him. "That's impossible. The rites were sealed centuries ago."
"Not anymore," Alex muttered. "The Argentum must've broken them."
The lead creature stepped into the moonlight. Its fur was patchy, mottled with burn scars and what looked like… binding sigils, etched directly into its skin. Chains rattled from its arms. Its mouth opened, and a broken voice rasped:
"Protector... reborn... unfinished oath…"
Scott stepped forward. "What do you want from him?"
The creature turned its head slowly. "Not want. Need."
It lunged.
The battle erupted like lightning.
Scott met the leader mid-air, claws raking, fangs bared. Liam and Malia flanked the sides, holding the rest back. Derek fought with the precision of someone born into war. And Alex—
Alex didn't shift.
He closed his eyes, holding the rune-blade over his mark. The weapon hummed.
Then it sang.
His body lit with fire—not literal flames, but the aura of something buried deep within. His eyes opened, and they weren't golden.
They were white-hot.
The nearest wraithbound charged, but Alex spun, the blade slicing through its sigil-marked chest. The creature let out a distorted cry as its body dissolved into smoke.
He moved through them like a storm given form. Memory surged with every strike—flashbacks of old battles, lost comrades, how he once protected the Hale bloodline like a knight sworn to a crown.
The past was catching up.
One by one, the corrupted creatures fell, until only the leader remained, backing toward the woods.
Alex raised the blade.
"Tell Argentum," he said coldly, "I remember everything now."
The creature hissed—and vanished into the shadows.
Silence returned.
The others stood panting, bloodied but alive.
Lydia stepped to Alex. "What was that?"
Alex stared at the glowing blade, its runes now fully lit. "That was only the beginning."
Chapter 13: Talia's Secret?