Chapter 5 The Pull Between World-contined

• After Thane left, I leaned back, my chest heavy with exhaustion and anticipation. Papers and records could wait; I needed air. Walking toward the stairs, I encountered Lucian and Caelan, who were leaving the Alpha office. We talked about the dreams, the symbols, and Thane’s warning.
• “Immediate threat?” Lucian asked.
• “I don’t know yet,” I said. “The symbols feel like tests… instructions, warnings. Someone—or something—is checking boundaries.”
• Caelan nodded. “We’ll need to be subtle. Any slip along the northern borders could be dangerous.”
• Lucian smirked faintly. “At least we have your visions. Just… don’t get yourself killed out there.”
• “I’ll keep myself alive. Mostly,” I replied with a grin.
• We headed out to the tree line for a border patrol shift. Once shifted, the forest became a rush of heightened senses and effortless strength. Every rustle, scent, and shadow mattered.
• “They’re getting stronger,” I murmured to Shade.
• “We are being led somewhere,” he replied urgently. “Something wants us prepared.”
• Lucian’s massive wolf moved beside me, breaking the silence. “These new markings could be traps—or tests. Understand them before patrolling blindly.”
• Caelan added, “Do your dreams give any clue?”
• I hesitated, sharing fragments: shadows, the child, the pursuit. Lucian softened. “Use that to your advantage. Every patrol, every report—watch for subtle changes.”
• “You’re not alone, Kieran," Caelan said, reassuring me.
• We moved carefully through the forest, noticing broken branches, unfamiliar tracks, and faint scents—all minor details but enough to keep our attention sharp.
• “Crossroads. Testing grounds. We all need to stay aligned,” Shade reminded me.
• By the time we returned, the forest held a quiet tension. Twilight cast long shadows, but the patrol had eased some weight from my shoulders.
• Dinner followed in the main hall, with Lucian at the head table and Caelan beside me, as the aroma of roasted meat and herbs filled the air.
• “If I didn’t know better,” Caelan said with a grin, “I’d say the forest was trying to swallow us whole.”
• Lucian chuckled. “One less set of reports to file.”
• I smirked. “You’d miss us by morning.”
• “Maybe by afternoon,” Lucian replied dryly, earning a laugh from Caelan.
• The banter eased tension. Shade lingered beneath the surface.
• Stillness before a storm, he whispered.
• “Dreams?” Lucian asked.
• “Stronger. Clearer. I feel like I’ve missed something important each time,” I admitted.
• “Maybe tonight,” Caelan said, “you’ll see it fully.”
• “Write it down,” Lucian added. “Every detail counts.”
• “I will,” I promised.
• The hall slowly emptied, leaving warmth and the crackle of the fire. I headed to my suite to take a shower with the hottest water I could get after a long day. Later, as I drifted into sleep, the pull of the dream world returned, darkness gathering at the edges of my vision, and the faint cries of a child echoed through the shadowed forest.
• Branches scratched at my arms as I pushed forward, following the scent of my mate—warm, familiar, unmistakable. She held our son in her arms, but my focus stayed on reaching her first—pulse racing, mind torn between urgency and caution.
• From the shadows, a figure surged forward—twisted, fast, and feral. Its movements were wrong, jerky, as if some dark force was puppeteering it. Shade surged inside me, instincts kicking into overdrive. My pulse pounded in my ears as the world sharpened into motion and threat.
• I caught a glimpse of claws just before they struck and immediately twisted aside, feeling the breeze of air brush my throat. The smell of decay clung to the creature—cold, sharp, yet wrong. My elbow came down hard on its arm with a wet crack, but it didn’t flinch. It charged again, screeching, all teeth and frenzy.
• Fear spiked—not for me, but for the small heartbeat I could hear just beyond the trees. My son. My mate. The reason my chest burned.
• I pivoted, sweeping its legs out from under it, then drove my knee into its ribs, feeling the crunch vibrate up my leg. Shade roared with me as we moved in perfect rhythm—two halves of the same fury. My hand shot forward, crushing its throat, cutting off the growl that was halfway to a scream. The creature writhed, convulsed, and still tried to rise.
• “Stay down,” I growled through my teeth, voice thick with rage and a hint of desperation. My fingers grasped its jaw—one quick twist, and silence fell.
• The forest held its breath. Only the soft cry of my son broke the silence, small and frightened but alive. I turned toward the sound, heart pounding, the ache in my chest shifting from fury to raw relief. He was safe. They were safe for now.
• I approached cautiously. “Glad I made it in time,” I murmured.
• She smiled. “I would have handled it, but I knew you’d find us.”
• “Always,” I said, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
• “You don’t make it easy,” she whispered, a soft laugh in her voice.
• “Where’s the fun in that?”
• She handed me our son and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, hand resting briefly on my chest. “I’ll see you again,” she murmured before fading away.
• Heart still pounding, with the scent of pine and earth grounding me, I felt a renewed sense of determination. Whatever threats lie ahead, I will be prepared.
• The forest around me stayed heavy and quiet, the echoes of her presence fading but not entirely gone. Shade moved beneath my skin, a quiet hum of anticipation. We’re not finished yet, he whispered in my mind. There’s more to see. More to understand.
• I tightened my hold on my son, feeling the warmth of his small body against my chest. Every step was taken carefully and deliberately, and my son's safety was my foremost priority. The trees arched overhead like ancient guardians, shadows shifting as if leading me forward.
• Then, through a gap in the underbrush, I spotted it: a structure half-buried in the earth, a temple of weathered stone etched with faintly glowing symbols. Its presence felt deliberate, as though it had been waiting centuries for someone like me.
• I circled it, memorizing the symbols on the outside, before I found an opening. I lowered myself onto the temple steps, holding my son close to me, and ran my fingers over the carvings. Spirals intertwined with jagged angles, lines wrapping around triangles, symbols that faintly resonated, almost like a pulse beneath my fingertips. Recognition ignited within me; they matched some of the fragments Elder Thane had pointed out, the same markings from my dreams.
• “These… might help,” I whispered to Shade, letting the images imprint on my mind.
• Careful, he warned. Not all knowledge here is safe. But it will guide you if you remember it.
• A sudden chill ran through the clearing. "Something’s coming," Shade growled. "We can’t linger. We take what we can and move."
• I exhaled, pressing our son closer to me. “I know. We’ll remember. We’ll be ready.”
• The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the faint scent of my mate and the echo of her warmth, knowing that it is what they are hunting, hoping to catch her. I memorized every detail, from the symbols to the temple’s layout, the rhythm of the place, committing it to memory as if it were a map for the future, before I take off running to get away and find a safe place.
• Finally, I drew a deep breath, tightening my arms around my son. The shadows of the forest shifted, drawing me back. We move now, Shade murmured, urgent. And I obeyed, stepping forward, the knowledge of the temple blazing in my mind, ready to face whatever awaited us when I woke.
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