Chapter 114 - The Pull of the Land
Athena didn't plan to stand.
She just... did.
Like something inside her had gently taken her hand and guided her to her feet.
Silas rose with her without a word.
He didn't ask where she was going.
He didn't need to.
He could feel it through the bond.
A quiet, steady pull that wasn't coming from her thoughts.
It was coming from the land itself.
Athena stepped out of the broken chamber into the open courtyard. The morning light had shifted, casting long shadows across stone and vine and memory.
Her wolf stirred eagerly.
Not restless.
Recognizing.
She walked slowly.
Not searching.
Remembering.
Her hand skimmed across walls as she passed, fingers brushing over carvings hidden beneath moss. Every touch sent a faint warmth through her arm, like the stone was waking up beneath her skin.
Silas followed one step behind, watching the way she moved with quiet awe.
She wasn't hesitant.
She wasn't unsure.
She was drawn.
Athena turned down a narrow corridor without thinking.
She hadn't consciously decided to go that way.
But her feet knew.
Her wolf knew.
She paused at an old archway and closed her eyes.
The air here felt thicker.
Heavier.
Older.
She could almost hear faint echoes of voices that no longer existed.
Silas felt it too.
"This place," he murmured.
Athena nodded.
"It's not ruined to me," she whispered. "It's waiting."
She continued forward until the corridor opened into a small, circular space that looked unremarkable compared to the rest of the ruins.
Broken stone.
Overgrown vines.
Nothing special.
But the moment she stepped inside-
Her chest tightened.
Her breath hitched.
Her wolf went completely still.
Athena's hand pressed against the center of her chest.
Silas stepped closer.
"What is it?"
She looked around slowly.
Not confused.
Certain.
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"It's calling me."