Chapter 8
[The Sacred Valley]
The Sacred Valley was quiet in the way only ancient places were. It wasn’t empty, it wasn’t calm but there was a sense of peace in the air that couldn’t be explained.
Kaelen stood at the edge of the spring with his boots planted firmly against the damp stone, watching the water ripple faintly beneath the moon’s reflection.
The air carried the sharp scent of minerals and old magic, grounding and unforgiving.
His phone rested in his hand.
The message remained on the screen.
Riven: It’s not Lyra Hale. She doesn’t have a scent. She is just a weak, unshifted wolf.
Kaelen had already replied. Still, he hadn’t put the phone away.
Behind him, Elder Varyn stood in silence.
Varyn had been with the Blackthorn pack longer than most could remember, not as an Alpha, not as a warrior but as something rarer. A keeper of traditions that predated the modern packs. A man who understood curses not as spells to be broken but as forces to be endured, managed and survived.
When Kaelen had first lost control years ago, it was Varyn who had taught him how to breathe through the violence instead of fighting it.
“Lyra Hale has been cleared, right?” When Kaelen nodded, Varyn said, “That was predictable p>
“No reaction from the wards, no response from the curse and no resonance at all,” Varyn continued. “If she were the cause, something would have answered p>
Kaelen’s jaw tightened, not in frustration but in concentration.
They had prepared for this.
When the curse had stirred yesterday sharper, more insistent than it had been in years, Kaelen had responded with precision.
Riven had begun a quiet review inside Blackthorn Enterprises. Every new female hire, every transfer and every presence that had crossed into the building during the window of disturbance.
Names had been listed, monitored and crossed out
Lyra Hale’s name sat among them now.
Ruled out.
“She doesn’t fit the profile, she is too weak,” Varyn added. “No scent means no bond and no bond means no trigger p>
Kaelen exhaled slowly, letting the conclusion settle.
“Then the disturbance came from someone else,” he said.
“Yes,” Varyn replied. “Someone we haven’t identified yet p>
Kaelen finally slipped the phone into his pocket.
The pull in his chest had dulled since arriving in the valley and the curse was pressed down beneath layers of discipline and ancient magic.
It was not gone, but restrained.
“Good,” Kaelen said. “Then we proceed as planned p>
Varyn nodded. “Control first, questions later p>
Kaelen stepped closer to the spring, lowering himself to one knee. He placed his palm against the cool stone, closing his eyes as the magic of the valley responded.
The wolf stirred, contained, obedient but watching.
“Again,” Varyn instructed.
Kaelen drew in a measured breath and let the weight of the valley settle into him, every lesson, every restraint forged over years of brutal discipline.
The curse resisted briefly, testing its limits.
Kaelen held firm.
Minutes passed, then more.
When he finally opened his eyes, the silver had faded from them entirely.
“You are stabilizing,” Varyn observed.
“I need more than stability,” Kaelen replied evenly. “I need certainty p>
Varyn inclined his head. “Then we stay until you have it p>
Kaelen rose to his feet, straightening his shoulders as control locked back into place.
In a few more days, he would be ready to return to the city, to the company, to the pack.
But search would continue even in his absence.