The night after the hunt, Raine dreamed again.
But this was no ordinary dream.
She woke inside it—surrounded by silver fog and quiet so deep it rang in her ears.
The Vale was gone.
The stars were gone.
Only the scent of roses and fire remained.
A Familiar Voice
"Raine."
She turned.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The woman before her had the same eyes. The same mark on her collarbone. And a strength in her stance that felt carved from the earth itself.
"Mother?"
The woman nodded.
But she didn't step forward.
"You've done well," she said. "Better than I hoped. But the time is thinning."
"There is a gate," her mother whispered. "One I sealed long ago. Behind it lies something ancient. Older than our bloodline. Older than the Council."
"What is it?"
Her mother's gaze darkened. "The Devourer."
Raine's blood ran cold.
"If it wakes fully, it will not only burn our kind—it will unravel all bonds. Wolves will forget their mates, packs will turn on alphas, magic will rot."
Raine clenched her fists. "Then we fight it. We destroy it."
"You can't destroy it. Not yet." Her mother stepped closer, fog clinging to her dress like smoke.
"You must find the last ember—hidden in the Northwood ruins. Protected by wolves who no longer follow the moon."
"There is a traitor among you," her mother added. "Someone who wears loyalty like a mask."
"Who?"
But her mother was fading.
"The flame inside you is not just power. It is memory. It is choice. And it is sacrifice."
"Don't go," Raine begged. "Please—I need more time!"
Her mother's voice echoed as the dream dissolved.
"When the time comes, you will be the door…"
Raine jolted awake, heart racing, her body drenched in sweat.
The mark on her arm glowed fiercely.
And her pendant—her mother's pendant—had changed again.
A third rune had appeared.
Xavier rushed into the room. "Raine? What happened?"
She met his eyes.
"We have to go north."