Chapter 117 - What It Is
The golden light didn't flicker.
It pulsed.
Soft. Steady. Alive.
Athena leaned forward slightly, her face bathed in the glow rising from beneath the parted stone. She didn't reach for it.
She didn't have to.
She understood.
Not with logic.
With knowing.
Tears filled her eyes, but they didn't fall.
"This isn't a weapon," she whispered.
Silas stood beside her, eyes fixed on the light.
"No."
Athena's voice trembled with quiet emotion.
"It's protection."
Her wolf was calm inside her chest.
Her mage blood warm in her veins.
Both parts of her recognized what lay beneath them.
"This is what they died for," she said softly.
Silas looked at her.
Athena's eyes were steady now.
Certain.
"He can never have this."
Silas's jaw tightened.
"Then we make sure of it."
?
Victor
Victor stopped walking.
His head lifted slowly as a strange pulse moved through the air around him.
Not sound.
Not light.
Magic.
Old magic.
He felt it in his bones.
In his teeth.
In the very air pressing against his skin.
James looked at him, confused.
"What is that?"
Victor didn't answer immediately.
His eyes scanned the distant ridge of Goldenthorn lands just visible through the trees.
And he knew.
She had found it.
His jaw clenched.
"She's awake," he said quietly.
James frowned. "What does that mean?"
Victor's voice was cold.
"It means we're too late."
James's stomach dropped.
Victor's gaze hardened toward the valley ahead.
"Now," he said, "the real war begins."