Chapter 10

Chapter

Ten

T he cold hung in the air like a warning as Ariana vanished the moment her words left her lips, gone in the blink of an eye to wherever Aidyn’s mysterious library sat, hidden away from mortal senses. Colt’s chest tightened in a tangle of emotions. His alpha-wolf instincts itched from the loss of control. It gnawed at him, the idea of standing still while ancient texts decided the fate of his people. He also feared what this might do to Ariana. When she had snapped out of her trance, she had been visibly shaken. Her skin had been pale, and her eyes… they had been almost demonic. Holding her while she shivered had cut him to the bone. She shouldn’t be here. He should have sent her home and demanded someone else. Someone who had the strength of an elder.

His gaze shifted to Maya, who stood silently beside him.

“Is she strong enough for this task?”

She looked at him, her green eyes swirled with knowledge he would never understand. “She is a guardian. Young, yes, but stronger than you think.”

That made him feel slightly better. “You ready for this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Maya’s voice was soft but carried a resolve that steadied his pulse. She was one of the few members of the pack who could enter the eye of the storm and leave unshaken, and for that, Colt had always respected her—even as her cryptic ways often made it impossible to decipher what she was truly thinking beneath that quiet demeanor.

The snow under them shifted, the faint scent of pine mixed with Ariana’s power resurfaced like a tsunami. Then, with a surge of wind and light, she returned, her silver-green eyes aglow with urgency.

“Maya, Colt, grab on,” Ariana said, her voice clipped but not unkind. She extended an arm, her power already humming through the air. The flicker of the elements danced around her. “We’re going. Now.”

Colt growled before stepping forward and taking her hand. And like the last time, her heat pulsed through his fingers, and he had to stop himself from pulling her into his arms and telling her she couldn’t put herself in danger again. She held his gaze, and for a brief moment, time stood still. Then the world shifted, the solid earth turning fluid as the ground quaked beneath him and the sky twisted overhead. The sensation was disorienting, unsettling, and as rapidly as it began, it stopped.

They stood before towering stone arches. Centuries old and pulsing with the kind of magic that could only come from ancient gods. The air weighed heavier here, different, charged with an overwhelming mix of life and forgotten power. It seeped into his skin the moment their feet hit the ground and ignited both his senses and his wariness in a way he hadn’t expected.

He scanned the surrounding landscape, searching for threats or anything that might challenge Ariana’s or Maya’s safety. However, what captured his attention wasn’t the landscape, but the imposing building in front of them.

Colt had seen ancient ruins during his life as a shifter, but this… this was entirely different. The structure loomed large against the horizon, carved into the mountain itself, embraced by creeping vines and cascading stone that glittered under a celestial light. Black iron covered the colossal double doors, which were engraved with intricate runes that pulsed faintly. No doubt symbols of the gods long passed or forgotten.

“This place…” Maya’s voice wavered as she took it in, her mystical mind clearly drawn to the forces that wrapped around them. “It’s older than I expected.”

Colt only grunted in response, his jaw tense. The smell of ancient magic made his wolf uneasy, haunted by the knowledge that beneath this stone was knowledge no mortal or shifter should possess. He needed to stay sharp, even in this place that felt separate from reality—a place tethered between the divine and the dangerous.

Ariana moved with quiet steps toward the entrance, her fingers tracing the runes on the door in a way that spoke of familiarity. Colt respected her resilience, but in moments like these, he respected the sheer willpower it took for her to straddle two worlds—the mortal and the divine.

“We’ll find something,” she whispered. Her gaze caught his. “We must.”

He held her gaze for a beat longer than necessary before shifting his attention to the task at hand. “Then let’s get to it. Vilkas doesn’t have time for us to fuck around.”

Ariana nodded, and with a subtle motion, she pushed the iron doors which—groaning under the weight of centuries—swung inward to reveal a grand room lined with towering bookshelves. Unlike the sprawling libraries of mortals, which smelled of old paper and dust, this one emitted a unique energy—each book seemed to hum with an undercurrent of power, as if each contained not merely knowledge, but the essence of the gods themselves.

The shelves stretched higher than he could have thought possible. Their dark wood glistened under the amber light cast from glowing orbs that hung suspended in the air, neither flame nor metal—pure magic. Stone walls framed each corner of the room, engraved with symbols that seemed to shift with every glance, and the air itself shimmered.

He didn’t like the way this place made his skin crawl.

Maya stepped forward, her usually calm demeanor faltered as her wide eyes took in the sight. Even she, the pack’s witch who regularly handled both old magic and the forces of nature, couldn’t help the breathy awe that slipped from her lips. “This is… truly ancient.”

Ariana took the lead and guided them further, avoiding the shelves that appeared to lean toward her, as if wanting to reveal their hidden secrets. At the far end of the library, a heavy stone table sat surrounded by shelves of scrolls and tomes bound in leather as dark as night, their spines marked with language too old for most mortal eyes to understand.

“We’ll need to focus on texts that detail the messengers of the gods,” Ariana said. “Anything forged from a dying star… it could be tied to creation myths, celestial beings, or even the god of death himself.”

Colt’s jaw ticced. There was a rising frustration within him, a flicker of impatience he could barely contain. Time wasn’t on their side. Vilkas’s condition worsened by the minute, and part of him hated relying on something as fleeting as ancient texts to protect his pack. But he couldn’t ignore the importance of what Ariana said.

“Which ones do we look at first?” Maya asked, already stepping closer to the shelves, her hand lingering over a thick tome as though she could feel its vibrations reverberating through her fingertips.

“Start with anything about celestial weapons, or weapons used by the gods against other immortals,” Ariana replied.

“I’m here to help,” a soft voice called from behind and when Colt turned to face potential danger, he was greeted by a tall redhead whose vibrant blue eyes studied him.

“Hannah!” Ariana moved toward the female and pulled her into a hug. “I’m so happy you came to help.” She turned to Colt and Maya. “This is Hannah. She is the granddaughter of Aidyn.”

“A demigoddess?” he asked.

“Don’t worry, wolf, I won’t zap you… too hard,” she chuckled, then looked back at Ariana. “Aidyn said you needed me, so here I am.”

Hannah’s voice was light, teasing, but Colt’s wolf, that ever-present, growling awareness inside him, didn’t take kindly to anyone joking about their power. Especially now, with everything at stake.

Ariana shot him a swift glance, like a warning to keep his wolf in check. Reluctantly, he grunted in response, folded his arms across his broad chest as he shifted his stance. He wasn’t here for pleasantries. He was here because Vilkas was dying, and his pack was under threat. The sooner they found what they were looking for, the better.

“All right,” Ariana said, taking charge once again. Her energy was sharp and focused, despite the grueling mix of emotions Colt sensed coursing through her. “We need to split up.”

He gave a quick nod. He wasn’t about to waste any more time. The tension in the air was heavy with anticipation, and beneath it, a subtle warning lingered. His eyes swept over the massive shelves. The air carried an ancient, primal energy. Even his wolf, usually restless in the presence of magic and gods, seemed to still.

Maya moved to an alcove filled with scrolls and heavy tomes bound with a deep amber leather. “I’ll start with the oldest languages, the ones that even we witches have long since abandoned,” she said, her fingers already lightly skimming the edges of a stack of scrolls as if they called to her directly.

Ariana nodded once more, her silver-green eyes sparkling like lightning flashes. She moved to another corner; her steps precise, as if she knew exactly where to begin. A subtle wind rustled around her, lifting her dark hair as whispers of elements unseen stirred at her command. “I’ll search for anything referencing celestial forges, anything linked to divine smiths or binding powers to objects.”

Hannah seemed unfazed by the weight of the situation. Yet her eyes held a glimmer, cold and eerie, a haunting quality only a demigod could bear. She focused on shelves too—quiet, observant, but her fingers didn’t seem to linger as Maya’s did. Instead, she moved quickly, methodically, pulling books from tall shelves as if drawn by the trickles of old magic that Colt sensed faintly in the air.

“I’ll focus on references to phoenixes and celestial beasts,” Hannah muttered, her attention already caught by an ancient tome etched in silver glyphs that shimmered with faint embers of flame. “There might be some text tied to the power of the stars. Aidyn himself doesn’t know it all. Let’s hope the writing of the gods left more behind.”

Colt’s gaze flicked between the women as they delved into their respective corners of the library, each of them carrying a certain grace in their movements—a balance between ease and intensity that he noticed more keenly now. A part of him felt out of place in this vast sanctuary of ancient knowledge, all these dusty tomes calling for minds steeped in magic and divine lore.

He… he was a man of instinct, of strength. Hunting his enemies head-on had always been his way—tracking, tearing, and protecting his pack with ferocity and discipline. But here? Here, a different battle was fought among whispers and runes. He flexed his fingers, the craving to draw blood gnawed at him, yet standing idle wasn’t an option. He needed Vilkas to heal. His people needed answers. And if that meant wading through pages of forgotten history, ancient curses, and fucking celestial forges, then he’d tear through these books with the same determination he used to rip apart enemies on the battlefield.

His gaze fell on a series of dark-bound volumes stacked unevenly atop a small wooden shelf. Heavy, foreboding, their spines splintered from time’s weight. He grabbed the nearest one and opened its crackling pages. As the scent of ancient parchment hit his nose, something strange happened—a sensation, foreign yet not unwelcome, thrummed beneath his skin. His wolf stirred, hackles rising. The words on the page blurred, shifting, as though they were alive with some hidden force.

Frowning, he shifted his grip. His alpha instincts prickled in warning. He tightened his focus on the words, grinding his teeth as he slowly came to realize they weren’t written in a tongue he could comprehend—not truly. But it felt familiar.

Maya appeared at his side, her hand resting on his forearm, and her touch grounded the sudden unease fluttering through him.

“You can sense it, can’t you?” she murmured, her eyes fixed on the words in the book. “Some of these texts bear remnants of old magic, primal energy that predates even the most ancient of spells we cast now.”

Colt glanced at her, more confused than before. “What does that mean? I can’t even read this.”

“That’s because this isn’t a language anyone reads with their eyes. It’s one you feel, a language that speaks directly to your essence, especially if you’re tethered to something bigger. Your wolf may be feeling the stirrings of a forgotten power instinctively, the way it’s connected to the land, the moon, and the stars.”

He gritted his teeth, frustrated by the vague explanations he felt he should already understand. But as reluctant as he was to admit it, part of Maya’s words resonated. The deep hum of the book was familiar in a way that gnawed at him—elemental, pulling at his wolf’s nature, less like an enemy and more like a timeless part of the wild that could not be ignored.

“I should leave the magic stuff to you,” he muttered, though not without a hint of resignation in his tone. He turned to hand the book to Maya. But her fingers closed over his, a firm grasp that made him look at her again. Her eyes glowed green and filled with the ancient knowledge that always made him uneasy.

“No,” she whispered. “You opened that book for a reason. Your instincts brought you to it. Trust them. We may not like magic,” she added with a wry smile, “but sometimes, magic chooses us.”

Colt’s grip on the brittle edge of the book remained steady. His wolf rumbled beneath his skin, both wary and alert, while Maya’s words ignited a dangerous spark of curiosity. With hesitation, he let his gaze drop back to the text. Opening himself to whatever invisible force lay beneath the letters, a vibration thrummed through his chest.

It hinted at a primal force, a deep connection between the protectors of the earth—the shifters, immortals, and the celestial guardians who watched over them. The words themselves writhed, shifted, and reformed right before his eyes until meaning emerged in a language that wasn’t spoken aloud but inherently understood.

Blood returns to the stars from whence it came…

The phrase echoed in Colt’s mind, cryptic yet profound. He didn’t fully understand it, but he felt its truth. Blood—life—wasn’t just bound to the earth. It came from an ancient force, far beyond this world. The stars themselves held the key.

His wolf stirred, instincts rising as ancient knowledge brushed the edges of his awareness. The blade wasn’t just a weapon—it was part of the endless cycle of life and death, connected to the stars, the pack, and a force far greater than anything he’d ever known.

Blood returns to the stars…

Colt stumbled, gripping a stone pillar to steady himself as the weight of those words hit him like a punch to the gut. It wasn’t just about death. It was about life. A cycle—one that connected everything, from the earth beneath him to the stars overhead. The blade was part of it, part of a force bigger than he had ever imagined.

Maya tightened her grip on his arm, her face filled with worry. “Colt,” she whispered. “What did you feel?”

He blinked, trying to shake the fog from his mind, but the pull of those stars—the pull of that knowledge—was too strong. “Death and life… bound together in a cycle. The blade isn’t just a weapon. It’s connected to a greater force. It’s like a river, pulling everything along with it.”

Maya’s eyes widened, her voice filling with realization. “The stars. The energy of the cosmos. It’s not just elemental power, Colt. It’s fate, twisted into a weapon. Whoever forged this…” She trailed off, her face going pale.

A shudder seized the air around them, an awareness growing with every passing moment spent in this forsaken library of knowledge. Maya pulled in a sharp breath, her usually placid exterior now clouded with worry. The answer was clear to both of them now—too clear, and too terrifying to voice aloud just yet.

Ariana still worked diligently across the room, absorbed in whatever ancient language or symbol she was decoding, unaware of the terrifying realization dawning between Maya and Colt.

Colt growled low, a protective sound that rumbled up from deep within his chest, reverberating in the chamber like an volcano waiting to erupt. He felt the weight of the truth bearing down on him—heavy, suffocating, like the very essence of death had coiled itself around him. Life and death, as bound in time as the stars themselves, the blade created from a dying star was an instrument of cosmic finality.

“Ariana,” he called, his voice rough and strained. “Whatever you’re looking for, you need to find it fast.”

She glanced up, frowning at the tightness in his tone, the urgency that laced his words. Even with her immense composure, there was a faint flicker of concern in her eyes as she closed the ancient tome she was decoding and crossed the space between them.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice sharp. “What did you find?”

Colt hesitated for a beat, weighing the gravity of what he was about to say. The sensation that had come over him while touching the ancient text still pulsed through his veins like an omen, a warning from the cosmos itself. He had no choice; he had to trust her with what he felt, even if it was a feeling he couldn’t fully explain.

“This blade,” he began, struggling to keep his voice steady as his mind unraveled the pieces. “It’s not just some ancient weapon forged for immortals to use against each other. It’s connected to an ancient force, far more dangerous.” He dragged a hand through his hair, the tension clear in every motion. “It’s tied to the stars somehow… to life and death itself.”

He met her gaze. “It’s not just about Vilkas anymore—it’s about a force greater than us, written into the very fabric of fate. Whoever holds this blade could wield unimaginable power over life and death, Ariana.”

She went still, absorbing his words with the quiet intensity of someone used to deciphering cryptic truths. In her silence, the air thickened, laden with the weight of looming disaster. Then her face hardened with resolve.

“We’re running out of time,” she agreed. She glanced at Maya, whose expression had turned grim. “Maya, you said this magic was unlike anything you’ve felt before, correct? What if the dying star isn’t just cosmic energy… but celestial judgment? The kind of power that balances the scales should an event tip the universe into chaos?” Ariana’s voice lowered to a near whisper, as though speaking it aloud made the reality far too real, too deadly.

“Judgment,” he growled, the word thick with distaste. “You’re telling me this thing could wipe out everything if it got into the wrong hands?”

“Not everything,” Maya interjected, her tone measured but grave. “But life as we know it? Yes. If it’s tied to judgment, then the wielder—whoever controls this blade—could decide the fate of immortals and those connected to them. It could irrevocably alter the course of destiny, decide who lives and who dies. Worse still, if the one holding the blade was unbalanced, so too could the world become. If they are blinded by hatred, jealousy, any dark emotion that lacks the perspective of balance, the consequences could be catastrophic.”

Ariana ran a hand through her dark hair, the flicker of worry in her silver-green eyes now edged with weariness. “If we don’t find a way to stop whoever is wielding the power of this blade, the entire supernatural world could be in danger.”

Colt’s pulse quickened, every fiber of his being screaming to act—now. His protective instincts surged, his alpha-wolf shaking the very core of his control. “Then we don’t have time to waste. That blade, whoever is behind it… we find them, and we end this.”

“There’s just one problem.” Hannah’s soft yet confident voice drifted from over her shoulder, breaking through the weight of their realization. She had positioned herself near a pile of unrolled scrolls, her eyes glowing with the ember of her demigod lineage. “We’re dealing with something beyond physical power alone.”

Hannah stepped closer, her fiery red hair casting delicate shadows across her face. “The blade may be from a dying star, but that star’s essence didn’t fade into obscurity. It lingers, lives on in whatever cosmic force fuels it now, and that makes it nearly impossible to destroy by conventional means.”

“What are you saying?” Colt asked, his fists clenched at his sides, his patience wearing thin.

Hannah smirked, and there was a flicker of danger in her eyes. “I’m saying you can’t simply break the blade or kill the wielder. This isn’t a problem you can punch your way through, Alpha.”

The biting edge of her words grated against his nerves, but he forced himself to bite back a retort. Patience wasn’t his strong suit when it came to crises like this, but he knew now wasn’t the time to let his temper flare.

Ariana sighed, stepping between them before the tension could mount. “What do you suggest, then?”

Hannah’s smirk faded, replaced by a look of solemnity that made even Colt’s hackles sink back. “We need to sever its connection to the cosmos,” she said, her tone now serious. “If this blade is linked to a dying star, as you believe, it still draws power from that celestial force. That’s why it’s so potent. But cutting that connection isn’t a task just anyone can do. It needs the power of a god—or at least someone close to one.”

A heavy silence hung in the air as her words sunk in. Colt exchanged glances with Ariana, whose face had taken on the furrowed expression of deep contemplation.

Maya’s voice broke through first. “Aidyn could potentially help. He’s the phoenix god, after all. If anyone could disrupt the celestial energy fueling the blade, it would be him.”

“If Aidyn were enough, wouldn’t he have already known about this?” Ariana’s voice rang with the frustration she usually kept tempered under her cool demeanor. “If not Aidyn, we’ll have to think bigger… older.”

“There is one other possibility,” Hannah said. She hesitated before continuing, it was obvious she didn’t savor giving them the answer. “Anubis.”

The name sent chills through the air. Even Maya’s eyes shot wide open at the mention of the god of death and rebirth. Silence followed, heavier than before.

Colt’s wolf instincts warred beneath his skin. The very idea of turning to someone like Anubis filled him with unease. “Anubis?” he spat the name like it tasted foul. “You mean the god that presides over passing judgment? The dead?”

Hannah nodded. “Yes. The master of balance between life and death itself. If there’s anything connected to this blade’s essence—the chaos it sows—he would know.”