Chapter 8
ROWAN
Walking toward this nightmare of a castle feels wrong on so many levels, but I force myself to remember the final days I spent here.
As terrifying as Malrik was—and, wow, was he committed to the whole unhinged villain thing at the end—The Keep itself had started to… I don’t know, maybe, like me? Or at least something enough to help me escape.
So long as Malrik hasn’t destroyed the entity that lives within this place, I think we’ll be mostly safe.
Mostly being a flexible term.
The ground beneath my boots is all jagged stone and uneven rock, a brutal contrast to the smooth, polished floors I remember inside. The exterior feels defensive in a way the interior never did—hostile by design, like The Keep doesn’t want to be approached without purpose.
Which is acceptable.
None of this looks familiar from the night I escaped, but then again, I wasn’t exactly in the right headspace to admire the landscaping while running for my life in a snowstorm. Details like “ominous rock formations” and “impossibly tall walls” tend to blur when you’re focused on not dying.
The front doors loom ahead. Two massive slabs of dark marble, veined faintly with silver and fitted with heavy metal handles that look like they’ve crushed fingers before and wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.
All I have to do is reach forward and pull one open.
Except I don’t.
Cade’s hand settles around my waist instead, solid and grounding. He leans in just enough that only I can hear him. “Let me do this for you.”
I nod because words have apparently abandoned me, and I keep my eyes fixed straight ahead.
What am I going to find inside? Will the castle be destroyed? Will my mother be here? Is she even still alive?
The questions stack fast and sharp, panic clawing up my chest, but before it can take hold, my wolf stirs. She rises quietly, lending her strength without pushing.
Later, she seems to say. You can break later.
Fair.
I need to get through this night first. Then I can decide whether life is a complete asshole or merely deeply misguided.
With what looks like only moderate effort, Cade pulls the right door open. Stone groans softly in protest, the sound echoing into the entry hall beyond.
Archie’s nose presses cold against the back of my neck as he inches closer, peering inside like he’s personally offended by the lack of immediate chaos.
Liz and my dad are right there too, along with the rest of our crew fanned out behind them—twelve people braced for war.
But nothing greets us.
No guards. No wards snapping into place. No dramatic entrance music.
Just silence.
At least until the moment I step across the threshold and The Keep exhales.
Not actual air or breath.
Just recognition.
It slides over my skin like a thousand unseen fingers, sinking deep into my bones, tugging at something ancient and coiled inside me. The stone beneath my boots hums softly—not alive, but aware, and like the house has been waiting patiently for me to return.
For a heartbeat, everything else fades.
I draw a slow breath and steady my thoughts.
You’re not a prisoner this time, I remind myself. And you’re definitely not alone.
I glance at Cade, standing just beside me, every inch of him alert and ready. His gaze never leaves me. The bond between us pulses, a constant presence within my chest, grounding me even as the magic here stirs.
I don’t need him to tell me to go on.
The Keep already has.
I take another step forward.
The entry hall stretches ahead of me, shadows pooling along the floor like spilled ink. The air smells faintly of cold stone and something sharper beneath it—old magic, worn thin by use.
I lift my hand without quite realizing I’m doing it and press my palm to the onyx stone.
The walls respond.
A subtle shift runs through me, the vibration deepening beneath my fingers as The Keep acknowledges the contact. Not submission or resistance.
More like…conversation.
My heart stutters.
“Nice to see you again, too,” I murmur, mostly to myself. Politeness feels appropriate when dealing with ancient, semi-sentient murder castles.
Wolf presses closer beneath my skin. She’s focused and ready, and most importantly, isn’t afraid.
Neither am I.
Not anymore.
Cade murmurs something behind me, likely issuing quiet orders for spacing and positioning, but the words slide right past me. I can’t focus on anything except the pull threading through my chest.
A tether.
It’s faint, but I sense The Keep is doing its best to stay quiet. Like the castle is giving us a chance we haven’t even asked for yet.
Stopping again, I press myself closer to the wall this time, my cheek cooling against the stone. “Where’s Jocelyn?”
I don’t know if The Keep would know her as my mother, but I hope it at least knows her name.
Warmth blooms under my touch, and there’s a flicker of light up ahead.
Before I proceed, I check for the others, but it’s not necessary.
I can’t see the pack wolves, or even Iris, but Cade is exactly where I expect him to be. Archie, Liz, and Marius stand with him, all of them watching me, trusting me.
Following my lead.
The weight of that trust presses heavily against my ribs.
Gods, I hope I’m not about to lead any of them to their deaths.
This isn’t just about finding my mom anymore. It’s about keeping everyone else alive while we do it. Every wolf, every friend, every stubborn soul who followed us into this place.
I can’t lose a single one of them.
With no other choice, we finally move forward.
Though out of my peripherals, I confirm we’re missing not only a few of the pack wolves, but also Iris. I didn’t hear her argue or scream, so I can only assume Cade did something he didn’t think warranted a discussion with me.
A thought I intend to follow up on later, but one I can’t be distracted by now.
Plus, I have no doubt I’ll hear enough about it later.
Our movements aren’t rushed or hesitant—just deliberate as we stick together. Cade’s presence is close enough that I feel him without looking. Archie’s massive bulk paces behind us with Liz’s quiet steps, my father’s steady breath, and the soft scuff of boots on stone not far behind them.
I sense three others. By scent, I can tell Elias is one of them, and I’m pretty sure Stephanie as well, but I can’t be certain of the third.
Either way, I know I’m not in this alone, and that helps me put one foot in front of the other as I walk carefully through the dark halls of The Keep.
Our progress seems to please the house. The temperature warms the further inside we go.
Yet, it remains eerily quiet, which makes me remember one of my previous thoughts…
Had The Keep only helped me escape because this is exactly what Malrik wanted? For me to walk back into this place with all those I love most in this world? Did he tempt me with the only bait that would get me to do so?
Possibly, but life isn’t won based on what-ifs.
The corridor we follow narrows as we go, the walls pressing in on us, guiding me toward areas of this place that don’t look familiar. The stone here is darker, almost wet-looking, with veins of silver threading through it like scars that never healed properly.
“Are the walls talking to you like before?” Liz murmurs quietly.
I shrug. “Not as strong but—”
The air changes again, and I stop speaking.
Cade’s hand tightens at my lower back. “What is it?”
I don’t answer him. Instead, I close my eyes and slow my steps. The change is subtle at first. A pressure shift, like descending underwater. My ears ring faintly, and Wolf lifts her head inside me, hackles rising.
“Stop,” I whisper.
Everyone freezes instantly.
I focus inward, reaching—not with power, not yet, but with awareness. The Keep hums beneath my feet, its earlier warmth cooling, the vibration turning uneven.
“This isn’t right,” I say slowly.
My dad shifts beside Liz, his weight redistributing and ready. “Trap?”
“Maybe a test. Or even a warning,” I reply, hopeful the castle hasn’t turned on me, and I haven’t led them all astray.
The stone ahead of us darkens, the shadows deepening unnaturally, pooling thicker along the edges of the hall. The temperature drops again, fast enough that my breath fogs.
Then—
A sound.
Wet. Sharp.
A snarl echoes from somewhere above us, followed by the scrape of claws on stone.
“Vampire,” Cade says with a snarl.
The word lands like a blade.
The figure drops from the ceiling without warning—fast, pale, and eyes burning red as it lunges straight for the center of our group.
Chaos explodes.
Archie roars and surges forward, his massive form slamming into motion just as Liz moves with him, blades flashing silver in the low light. Cade pulls me back a step just as the vampire collides with my oversized ferret, both of them crashing into the wall hard enough to crack stone.
The impact shakes the corridor as I shout. “Archie!”
He roars, the sound raw with pain as claws rake across his side, cutting deep enough to draw blood.
I don’t think. I act.
Power detonates through my limbs, bright and violent, snapping outward as I slam my palm into the vampire’s chest. The contact sizzles. His skin blackens instantly beneath my hand, the rancid stench of burning flesh choking the air.
He screams—high and piercing—and hisses at the same time, the sound scraping against my nerves. I push harder, pouring more power into him, uncaring and relentless.
Not even when Cade’s wolf explodes into the space beside me do I stop.
And I don’t look away.
I watch as massive jaws clamp down, as tendons tear and bones snap. I hear the crack of a spine breaking, see the head severed cleanly and hit the floor with a dull thud before rolling to a stop at my feet.
The body collapses in on itself, dissolving into ash and rot, the smell thick and suffocating.
My power snaps inward, retreating just as fast as it came, and I wipe my palms against my jeans like that might erase the smell of death clinging to my skin.
Silence crashes down around us.
But it doesn’t feel like victory.
I turn immediately to Archie.
My best friend. My family.
“Are you okay?” I drop to my knees beside him, hands hovering before finally daring to touch his side. The wounds are already trying to close—skin knitting together right before my eyes—but something about it is wrong.
“I’m not easy to kill,” he murmurs, and I’m sure he’s trying to sound confident, but I don’t believe him.
“You’re healing,” I say, my voice tight, “but this isn’t good.”
The fur around the wound is darkening, curling in on itself as clumps blacken and fall away, hitting the stone with soft, awful little sounds.
Liz grips my shoulder, grounding me. “Vampire venom,” she says quietly. “Some of them coat their claws with it. He’ll look rough for a bit, but the hit wasn’t deep enough to be fatal. We can get anti-venom after we get out of here if it’ll make you feel better, but he’s not critical.”
Archie nods in agreement, but my chest doesn’t loosen as I watch more fur crumble away.
Cade steps forward, positioning himself between us and the shadows beyond. His voice is steady and commanding. “We can’t stay here. It’s not safe to stop for long.”
I know he’s right, but Archie…
Before I can argue, The Keep hums beneath my knees.
Louder this time.
The vibration thrums through my bones, sharp and insistent, tugging at me like invisible fingers wrapped around my ribs.
“Rowan,” my dad says quietly, his voice fracturing just enough to hurt. “You feel that, don’t you?”
I swallow hard.
“Yes.”
It’s not the same pull as before. This one is deeper. Almost personal and familiar.
I turn slowly, my gaze locking onto a narrow archway half-hidden behind a collapsed wall. A faint light pulses beyond it—not magic, not even supernatural.
This is a heartbeat.
One that sounds human.
“She’s here,” I whisper, even though I have no way to know for sure.
At least until my dad moves closer and takes a deep inhale.
“Jocelyn.” Her name falls from his lips like a prayer. “She’s alive.”
The Keep buzzes in response.
Every instinct inside me screams to run—to tear through stone and shadow and drag her back into my arms now. But I force myself to stay still, hating that I can’t trust this place completely.
Not with so much at stake.
Not even for my mother.
I stand and straighten slowly, my fists clenching at my sides as the castle seems to lean in around us, listening.
“If you’ve tricked me,” I murmur under my breath, fingers curling into fists. “Just remember, I set you free, but I can unmake you just as easily.”
The Keep’s vibration deepens, almost amused.
I lift my head, meeting Cade’s gaze.
“Let’s finish this,” I say.
And somewhere deep within the castle, something shifts.