49: The Binding Ritual
The fortress was a tomb of flickering light and whispered panic. Every torch that still burned did so weakly, like the air itself feared to breathe. Damon dragged Darius through the council chamber doors, his brother’s body thrashing with unnatural strength. Silver veins pulsed beneath Darius’s skin, racing like lightning. Aria followed close behind, clutching a leather-bound book so ancient its cover bled dust with every step. “Lay him on the sigil!” she shouted. They slammed Darius onto the carved stone circle in the floor—runes older than the pack itself etched into its surface. The moment his back hit the rock, the markings flared white-hot, searing against his skin. He screamed; the sound was not entirely human. Damon seized his shoulders, muscles straining. “He’s slipping!” Ar
- Writer
