The darkness did not welcome Elara.
It tested her.
Deep beneath the mountain, where the pack’s oldest tunnels merged with forgotten caverns, Elara knelt inside a ritual pit carved from blackstone. Ancient runes crawled along the walls like living veins, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat.
The Demon King had not returned.
Instead, he had sent his instructors.
Creatures born of abyss and fire stood in a wide circle around her—silent, watching, waiting for her to break.
“Again,” one of them rasped.
Elara clenched her jaw and raised her hands.
Shadow surged—violent, wild, unfiltered.
It tore free from her chest like a scream, slamming into the far wall with enough force to crack stone. The cavern shook. Loose rock rained down.
Pain followed immediately.
Elara gasped as darkness bi
