Chapter Five: The Bone and the Blood
1009 Words
Jada barely slept.
Despite Nia's transfer to the healer’s quarters and the elders' pledges of continuous protection and magical runes, sleep remained as elusive to Jada as a fleeting mist. Every shadow seemed to hold her mother’s face which was now vivid and fiery with life as it had been before death took her. A flickering memory now kindled into possibility.
Could she still be alive?
She examined the spiral carving on the bone for what felt like the hundredth time as she turned it between her fingers. The symbol represented more than just an image because it conveyed an important message. An invitation. A warning.
A part of her wanted to run.
The bigger portion of her being had already moved in the direction of the flame.
She entered the war tent alongside Alex and Tobias by midmorning. Nia occupied a chair wrapped in furs with her pale hair disheveled and dark circles visible under her eyes.
Tobias spoke softly as he told her that her mother rescued the informant.
“More than that,” Jada replied. “She’s leading them.”
Alex stared at her. “That’s impossible.”
She reminded him about the rune he saw on Elijah’s arm. My mother was the only other person who understood how to create that rune. As a child she would trace that rune on my skin with her finger.
Tobias rubbed a hand over his face. If your mother managed to survive and she continues to oppose him—
“Then we’re not alone,” Jada finished.
Nia stirred. “There’s a door.”
They all turned.
“In the tunnels,” she said. A stone door exists deep beneath the earth. According to the others the stone door leads to the old temple. The stone door will only unlock when the blood sings.
“What does that mean?” Alex asked.
The girl shakes her head. “I do not know. But I heard the woman say it once. That only her blood could open it.”
Jada’s stomach turned.
Only her blood.
Not Kael’s. Not the stolen blood of wolves marked with darkness.
Hers.
“Then we need to find that door,” she said. “Before he does.”
They left once the sun went down.
Jada, Alex, Tobias, and three trusted scouts—Lena, Rourke, and Ben—moved in a silent mode through the forest, following Nia’s vague directions. The path was narrow until it was barely more than a deer trail, winding down into a hollowed-out ravine choked with ivy and fog.
At the bottom, they found a stone mouth hidden behind brambles.
The cave’s entrance yawned wide, ancient runes carved into the arch. The language of the First Witches, twisted with time and weather.
Inside, the air turned cold. Not natural cold—death cold.
Jada stepped forward, lifting her hand toward the runes. One of them pulsed faintly as her fingers passed over it.
Alex’s hand brushed hers. “Are you sure?”
“No,” she whispered. “But I have to be.”
The stone shifted with a groan.
Not the entrance—deeper in.
The scouts exchanged uneasy glances.
They moved carefully, every step echoing through the stone like a heartbeat. The tunnels split and split again, forming a maze of bone-colored walls and claw-marked floors.
At last, they reached a chamber.
The door was unmistakable.
An obsidian slab, tall as two men and covered in spirals that shimmered with a sickly light. In its center—a small basin.
Blood was needed.
Jada didn’t hesitate.
She drew a dagger from her belt and sliced her palm, letting crimson drip into the basin. The stone seemed to drink it eagerly, the spirals lighting up one by one until the entire slab thrummed like a drum.
The door moved.
Not opened. Not slid.
Shifted, like a living thing uncoiling from sleep.
And then—
The scream.
From behind them.
Lena fell first, her throat torn open before she hit the ground. A blur of motion slammed into Ben, pinning him with bone-white claws. Rourke shouted, but it was cut short by a blast of force that hurled him against the cave wall with a sickening c***k.
Kael’s voice echoed through the tunnel.
“You brought her to me. How thoughtful.”
Jada turned slowly.
Kael stood beneath the archway, tall and shadow-draped. His face looked like it had once been beautiful—and was now wrong. Like something had taken beauty and stretched it too far.
“You killed them,” she whispered.
“I freed them,” he replied. “From weakness. From time.”
Alex growled low in his throat.
Kael smirked. “Ah. The mate. So noble. So predictable.”
He stepped forward.
Jada raised her hand—but before she could strike, Kael moved. Inhumanly fast. One second he was a dozen feet away—the next, inches from her.
But he didn’t strike.
Instead, he leaned close, nose brushing her cheek.
“You smell like her,” he whispered. “Like fire and ash and prophecy.”
Jada shoved him back with a burst of raw magic. Light flared, throwing him into the stone. The corridor shook.
The door behind her opened.
A gust of wind and heat howled out of the chamber, pouring out dust and sparks into the air. Kael hissed.
Jada turned and ran.
She and Alex dove into the chamber beyond, sealing the door behind them with a blood sigil etched into the frame. Kael roared from the other side, the stone vibrating under his fury.
Then—silence.
Inside, the chamber was vast.
Circular. Covered in markings that pulsed softly in the dark. At the center was an altar. And on it—
A woman.
Her hair was dark as soot. Her skin pale. A spiral carved into her palm.
She was sleeping.
Jada fell on her knees, barely able to breathe.
“Mom,” she whispered.
The woman’s eyes fluttered.
And opened.
- Writer
