Luther’s POV

*****

Old Bloodoak Amphitheatre, 9:20 PM

It happened. He finally told Celeste what’s been eating him up since the Montecito trip. And also since her father walked in on him ranting about it.

The pressure from his pack’s Elders. His not-so-subtle desire for children... all of it. Of course, he’d also said he’ll be okay with whatever decision she makes.

Because he would.

As valuable as the West Star pack was to him, these past couple of weeks had taught him that he valued someone so much more. Someone whom he put through hell and back and she still stuck with him.

So when she said she’d accept being his Luna and having children with him one day... the resolve in his heart strengthened. He was going to fight with everything in him to abolish the prejudice his pack still harboured for the witch and hybrid kind.

Right now, however, he could barely contain his nervousness. Here he was, squatting behind a collapsed pillar while his mate stood out in the open.

Waiting. Like bait.

’I still can’t believe I agreed to this,’ his fists clenched, eyes never leaving her.

This was a stupid plan. A crazy one even. But they had no other one.

The wind blowing through the ruined amphitheatre intensified. Dust carried into the air, the clouds darkening as Celeste spread out her arms.

From this angle, he couldn’t see her face. But the things appearing across her arms were clear despite the darkness creeping into the space.

Dark sigils.

’It’s... It’s working...’ his wolf who’d been restless all this while stirred just then. ’Can you feel that?’

Oh, yeah.

He could.

Shadows all around the amphitheatre stopped. Then one by one began twisting into the most unnatural shapes and sizes, some even turning into figures that made Luther’s skin crawl.

This... power...

Yes, it was the Vein’s energy. Or at least the same chaotic energy she’d accidentally unleashed in Combat Lab class. But this time it felt different.

The air felt heavier now. Suffocating even for him. All around the amphitheatre, his instincts picked up the other guys bristling with preparation or unease as well.

Despite the reassurance of the rest of them still present, he kept his focus on Celeste sharp. ’If anything happens, I’ll be the one to reach her first...’

Soon, a different feeling spread through the space. Cold. A bone-biting chill so low that his breath turned to fog.

The temperature kept dropping.

Luther frowned as the fog of his breath thickened in front of him. This wasn’t a normal night chill. Not even close. The kind of cold creeping across the amphitheatre now felt like it could freeze a normal human to death if they lingered too long.

Like the air itself had decided to turn hostile.

A thin layer of frost began forming across the broken stone near his boots. He noticed it spreading slowly, crawling along cracks in the ground and creeping up the base of the collapsed pillar he hid behind.

His wolf growled instantly. ’This is all shades of wrong.’

Yeah. No kidding.

Luther shifted his weight slightly, keeping low while his eyes swept across the arena.

Celeste still stood in the centre, arms slightly outstretched as the sigils continued crawling across her skin like living ink. Even from this distance he could see them now stretching farther—past her wrists, climbing slowly toward her elbows.

The wind died abruptly.

Just... stopped.

The sudden silence made the hairs on the back of Luther’s neck stand upright.

His gaze flicked briefly toward the others.

Atlas crouched behind a fractured column on the opposite side of the amphitheatre, both hands pressed against the small stone anchor he’d planted earlier. Faint golden threads of magic pulsed around him as he maintained the containment wards.

Azrael stood a few meters away from Luther, half hidden within the shadows of another ruined pillar. The guy looked perfectly still... but something about his posture had changed.

He looked tense.

Alert.

Like a predator that had just caught the scent of something unpleasant.

Even Silas—calm, composed Silas—stood unusually rigid in the shadows behind a fallen archway, his eyes locked onto Celeste with an intensity that made Luther’s jaw tighten.

Then Celeste’s shoulders trembled slightly.

Luther’s stomach twisted.

The sigils along her arms flared faintly as the ground beneath her boots gave a soft cracking sound. Tiny fractures spread through the sand-covered stone.

His wolf snarled immediately. ’She’s losing control!’

Luther’s fingers curled against the edge of the pillar.

At this point... screw the plan.

He was two seconds away from stepping out and dragging her away from this entire stupid setup.

Then Atlas’ voice exploded inside his head. ’Wait!’

The command hit sharp and urgent.

Luther froze.

’Something is coming,’ Atlas added, his mental voice tight with concentration.

Luther exhaled slowly through his nose, forcing his instincts back under control. His muscles remained coiled and ready to spring, but he stayed where he was.

For now.

The whispers started next. Barely audible but unmistakable.

They slithered through the air like fragments of ancient language drifting through cracks in reality itself. Luther couldn’t understand a single word of it, yet the sound made his skin crawl.

The shadows across the amphitheatre stretched longer.

Distorted.

Broken pillars cast silhouettes that didn’t match their shapes anymore. One shadow twisted into something that almost resembled a crouching figure before melting back into darkness.

Azrael shifted slightly.

Even from across the arena Luther caught the subtle tightening of his jaw.

That alone made his wolf uneasy.

Because Azrael Vaelmont didn’t scare easily.

Suddenly the ground pulsed once.

A dull vibration rolled through the amphitheatre floor, subtle enough that a human probably wouldn’t notice.

But Luther did.

It felt like something massive had just turned over beneath the earth.

His wolf’s growl deepened. ’We’re not alone.’

Luther scanned the amphitheatre again, his gaze darting across every broken wall and collapsed archway.

No footsteps. No approaching aura. No visible enemy. Nothing.

But something was definitely here.

The shadows near Celeste suddenly rippled.

Her body jerked slightly as the sigils along her arms burned brighter. The air thickened.

And then Atlas’ voice slammed into his mind again. ’Boys?!’

The sheer force of it made him flinch.

’S–something is interfering with the wards!

Luther’s head snapped toward Atlas instantly.

Across the arena, golden threads of magic around the ward stone flickered violently like a failing electrical circuit. Atlas looked genuinely alarmed now, his hands tightening around the anchor.

’They’re destabilising!’ Atlas continued urgently. ’I didn’t build them to react like this—’

Luther barely heard the rest.

Because something else had just changed.

His wolf surged forward suddenly, instincts flaring like wildfire. ’Look. Up.’

Luther’s neck snapped upward, eyes locked onto the rooftop of the old academic building overlooking the amphitheatre.

And there, standing perfectly still at the edge of the roof—

Was a figure.

A woman’s silhouette.

She stood wrapped in darkness, the wind tugging faintly at the edges of her cloak as she gazed down toward the arena.

Toward Celeste.

Luther’s heart skipped a beat.

Whoever that woman was... She’d been there the entire time.