Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
Over the next three days, our training sessions intensify.
Each morning, Ryker and I work in the East Chamber, refining my control over the visions.
Each afternoon, I work with Lyra to learn to read the journals, absorbing Cheyenne’s wisdom.
The pattern is broken only by meals shared with the pack, where I’m gradually becoming a recognized—if not yet fully accepted—presence.
Zella has become a friend, often finding me between training sessions to share pack stories or offer insights into Shadowmist customs. Her easy warmth is welcome after so long without any kind of friendship.
“The full moon ceremony is tonight,” she says as we walk along one of the upper corridors overlooking the main cavern. “Are you nervous?”
“A little,” I admit. In the Silvercrest Pack, I’d spent every full moon locked away, forbidden from participating in what they considered sacred rituals. “I’m not sure what to expect.”
Her smile is reassuring. “It’s beautiful. The entire pack gathers at the rocks. We shift, we run, we hunt together under the moon’s blessing.” She hesitates. “I know you can’t shift, but—”
“Ryker has made arrangements. I’ll be joining you in the run.”
Curiosity flashes in her eyes, but she doesn’t press. “Well, whatever happens, I’ll be there if you need anything.” She squeezes my arm gently. “That’s what pack is for.”
The simple gesture of inclusion nearly undoes me. After a lifetime of rejection, these small moments of acceptance feel almost too precious to bear.
“Thank you,” I manage, my voice rougher than intended.
She seems about to say more when a shadow falls across us. We turn to find Lithia approaching, her scarred face impassive but her silver eyes alert.
“Alpha Female.” Despite my efforts, she’s maintained a professional distance. Not hostile, but not friendly either. “The Alpha requests your presence.”
I nod, touching Zella’s arm in farewell before following Lithia through the winding corridors. She moves with predatory grace, her footsteps nearly silent on the stone floor.
“How are the patrols?” I ask, attempting conversation.
Her gaze flicks to me, surprise briefly visible. “Doubled on the northern boundary. Increased along the river territories.” She hesitates, then adds, “No sign of any further forces since the tunnel attack.”
“That doesn’t mean they’ve given up.”
“No,” she agrees. “It means they’re planning something bigger.”
We fall silent as she leads me to a part of the den I haven’t visited before. It sits well away from the main den, down a long corridor that slowly tilts down. I follow her as the passage narrows, forcing us to walk single file until it opens into a room quite unlike any I’ve yet seen.
It’s a round room, the stone walls rough and covered in vines and moss.
Where a ceiling should be, instead there is a hole open to the sky—a natural oculus.
Afternoon sunlight streams through, illuminating a pool of crystal-clear water at the chamber’s heart.
The pool’s surface is unnaturally still, reflecting the light like a perfect mirror.
Around its circumference, ancient runes are carved into the stone floor, their patterns flowing in spirals toward the water.
Ryker stands at the pool’s edge, his back to us, power radiating from him in almost visible waves. He wears only loose black pants, his upper body bare. His hands rest on an ornate stone bowl positioned at the pool’s rim.
His scent seems stronger today, more distracting. My wolf stirs under skin, demanding I press close to him.
Settle, I admonish.
She bares her teeth but does as directed, though she’s still on edge.
“Alpha,” Lithia announces our presence, though I’m certain Ryker’s aware of exactly when we entered. Through our bond, I feel his focus—sharp, intense, tinged with an emotion I can’t quite name.
“Leave us,” he says without turning.
Lithia bows and withdraws, the sound of her footsteps fading quickly.
I approach slowly, drawn to Ryker yet cautious of disturbing whatever ritual I’ve interrupted. The stone beneath my feet feels charged, humming with an ancient power that makes the fine hairs on my arms stand on end.
“What is this place?” I ask softly.
“The Vision Well,” he answers, finally turning to face me. His mismatched eyes gleam with reflected light from the pool. “It’s where Shadowmist seers have come for generations to seek clarity when ordinary visions have failed.”
I glance at the still water, feeling its pull. “Cheyenne used this?”
“Yes.” A look flickers across his face—old pain, quickly masked. “It was her sanctuary.” He gestures to the elaborate bowl. “And this was her scrying vessel.”
“She had one in the other room too,” I murmur, remembering the smaller bowl.
Ryker nods. “That one was for regular readings. This…” He glances around the cavern. “This is different. When a seer’s power wasn’t enough, when the visions were too clouded or dangerous, they came here.”
I move closer, examining the bowl. It’s carved from a single piece of black stone, its interior polished to mirror brightness. Symbols similar to those on the floor encircle its rim, though these are inlaid with what looks like gold.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmur.
“It’s dangerous,” he corrects, his hand covering mine as I reach toward it. “The Well amplifies a seer’s gift, but at a cost.”
The warning in his voice is unmistakable. “What cost?”
“Control.” His fingers tighten on mine. “Once you enter a vision here, it doesn’t release you until it’s shown what you need to see—whether you’re ready for it or not.”
I swallow hard, remembering the visions that had nearly broken me in the Silvercrest Pack. “Why show me this now?”
“Because tonight is the full moon. Our first ceremony together.” His expression softens slightly. “And because you’re getting stronger. Your control is improving faster than I expected.”
Pride blooms in my chest at his acknowledgment. Over the past days, I’ve learned to summon visions without pain, to direct my sight toward specific targets, to remain conscious and functional even as the images flow through me.
“Thank you for—” I begin.
“Don’t thank me for what’s rightfully yours,” he interrupts, his thumb brushing my pulse point. “Your gift was always meant to be used this way.”
The familiar anger he feels that surfaces whenever he references my treatment in the Silvercrest Pack ripples through our bond. Just as quickly as it arrives, he pushes it away, hiding it from me.
I wish he wouldn’t. I wish he’d let me see everything.
“Tonight,” he continues, “you’ll be formally presented to the pack as my mate.”
My stomach tightens with nervousness. “I’ve never attended a full moon ceremony before. I don’t know the traditions—”
“You’ll be with me,” he says simply, as if that resolves all concerns. And in a way, it does. “I’ll carry you.”
The image forms in my mind. Ryker in his massive wolf form, me on his back. The Alpha Female who can’t shift, carried by her mate’s strength.
“Will they accept that?”
“They’ll accept what I decree.” The words carry absolute authority, but he softens them by adding, “The Alpha Female attends all ceremonies. That you can’t shift is irrelevant.”
His certainty eases some of my anxiety. Through our bond, I feel his confidence flowing into me like warm honey, steadying my nerves.
“I’ve brought you here for another reason,” he says, gesturing toward the Vision Well. “The full moon strengthens a seer’s gift. Combined with the Well’s power, it might let us see what Thaddeus or the other packs are up to.”
For a second, I freeze.
His words are soft, gentle even, but I recoil. My jaw tightens. My spine locks. Suddenly I’m back in Varick’s chamber, eyes ringed with shadows, throat raw from screaming through a forced vision while he stood watching, satisfied.
My heartbeat spikes. My instinct is to step back, to shut down. To do as I’ve been told.
But then I feel it—his regret and his concern.
“I… sorry,” I say quietly, forcing air back into my lungs. “I thought—I thought you were going to force me to—”
Ryker’s gaze darkens, not with anger, but with fury on my behalf.
“I’m not,” he says. “And I never will.”
It’s a struggle, but I lock down my fears. “You want me to scry the Grand Alpha. You want me to see if he’s planning another attack.” It’s a statement rather than a question.
Ryker nods slowly. “Thaddeus won’t let our rebellion stand. I’m sure he’s gathering forces and building alliances. I’m sorry to ask this of you, but I’m operating at a deficit. Our spies have gone silent, and anyone we’ve sent since hasn’t made any inroad into Thaddeus’s inner sanctum.”
I study the still water.
“I don’t ask this of you lightly, Kitara. And unlike your former Alpha, I won’t force visions from you. This is your choice. There’s no pressure here.”
The distinction means more than he can possibly know. For so long, my gift has been something others demanded I use, regardless of the cost to me. To be given a choice, to be asked rather than commanded, feels revolutionary.
“No,” I say, wanting to see his reaction. I don’t raise my voice, don’t lash out, but the word lands heavy between us.
Without a beat, he nods once. “Okay.”
No challenge. No persuasion. Just... acceptance.
And gods, that undoes me. Not because he gave in, but because he meant it.
I study him, heart beating fast, throat tight. No one’s ever heard my “no” before without turning it into a reason to push harder. To punish. To pry.
But Ryker takes my answer in his stride, making no efforts to change my mind. It’s a heady powerful thing to realize that someone respects you enough to honor your choice.
I know that Ryker is different. He’s not like the others who’ve only cared about their own desires, their own amusement.
In this small moment, it dawns on me that he might actually care about me.
About how I feel. The realization rocks me to my core, shaking the very foundations of everything I’ve ever known.
A slither of relief slides between us—but it’s from his side.
“Wait. Why are you relieved?”
He curses under his breath. “I’d hoped you’d miss that.”
“Ryker.”
“It’s dangerous.”
I shrug. “Everything here is dangerous. Including you.”
His eyes darken. “Especially me.” He steps closer, deliberately invading my space. “But you’re not afraid of me anymore, are you, little wolf?”
“Should I be?”
“Always.” His voice drops to that rumbling register that does things to my insides I refuse to acknowledge. “But that doesn’t stop you from wanting to touch, does it?”
I lift my chin, refusing to back down this time. “You’re being terribly arrogant.”
“And yet you want me.”
I open my mouth to deny it but decide to change the subject instead. “Answer my question.”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Pack law requires me to ask all those who can help to do so. But I don’t want you within spitting distance of this cesspit.”
“Why?”
“This place can destroy you. It happened to our last seer. She became so enamored with the visions that she never surfaced. Her body slowly wasted away.”
I grimace. “And you think that would happen to me?”
“I don’t know. But I’d rather not risk it.”
I glance over at the pool, watching the light dance across the water. “What happens if I want to, though?”
He stills. “But you don’t, so let’s not have this conversation.”
“Humor me.”
Ryker growls under his breath. “The mechanics are simple, you float in the water. When your gift connects with the Vision Well, you’ll go into a trance. Once in that state, you don’t just see—you search. Your mind moves like a shadow through the world, slipping through cracks, chasing threads.”
“So I’m not just seeing what’s shown to me,” I murmur. “I’m able to look for something specific.”
He nods. “Exactly. Intentions, plans, memories, secrets. You scry until something catches.”
I move to the edge of the pool, watching the water ripple gently in the soft breeze. “That’s a powerful gift.”
“It’s also a dangerous one.”
My wolf scratches her neck, yawning. We could do it. The last seer didn’t have a mate.
I frown. “Did the last seer have a mate?”
Ryker shakes his head. “No. He was killed before the claiming could be completed.”
She became lost in memories. Her love kept her tethered. Yours will free you.
I frown at my wolf.
I’m not in love with Ryker.
She huffs, then curls into a ball, turning her back to me.
“I’ll do it,” I say, surprising all of us.
“What?”
I glance at Ryker. “I’ll do it. I’ll scry.”
“No.”
I roll my eyes. “Yes. You said it was my choice. I’m making it. I want to help the pack.”
“Kitara, no. I won’t let you—”
I lay a hand on his chest, halting him.
“Ryker, trust that I can do this. Unlike Cheyenne, I have a mate to keep me tethered to this reality. If anyone can save me, it will be you.”
A muscle in his jaw pulses as if he’s fighting to stop the words he wants to say. Finally, he speaks. “I did my duty by asking this of you. I’m regretting that decision.”
I grin, knowing I’ve won. “You can regret it if it fails.”
He mumbles something under this breath that sounds a lot like “stubborn mate,” then drops his hand to my waist.
“We’ll do this if you’ll allow me to guide you through it.” His gaze meets mine, serious and intent. “If I say we need to end it, we end it. No questions, no protests. You understand?”
I nod.
“Fucking hell.” He runs a hand through his hair once more. “I can’t believe I’m letting this happen. God damn it.”
I lean into him. “It’ll be fine, Ryker. You watch.”
“It better be.” He huffs out a sigh. “Kitara, before you do this, there’s something you should know about Thaddeus. About why his hatred for me runs so deep.”
I wait, sensing the importance of whatever he’s about to reveal.
“Thaddeus Solomon is my father.”