Chapter 9 Nine

Chapter 9

Ella’s POV

Sam’s voice cuts through the silence like a blade.

“What did you do, Ella?”

I can’t answer. My body is still trembling from whatever just happened. The air smells like smoke and burnt wood, and the floor around me is still warm.

“I said,” he growls, taking a step closer, “what did you do?”

His anger hits me like a wave. My chest tightens, but I can’t speak. I don’t even know what I did.

Gemma moves between us, lifting her hand. “It wasn’t her fault.”

Sam’s eyes flash dangerously. “Move aside, Gemma.”

“She didn’t mean for it to happen,” Gemma insists. “It was a reaction she doesn’t understand what’s inside her.”

Sam narrows his eyes. “Inside her?” His gaze snaps back to me. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Gemma doesn’t answer.

“I’m talking to you,” he snaps, his tone sharp and cold. “What do you mean by that?”

Gemma exhales, her jaw tightening. “It’s not something you want to hear, Alpha.”

“Try me.”

She glances at me, then back at him. “Her father’s blood wasn’t just cursed. It was bound. That bond was passed down to her the day he died.”

Sam’s brow furrows. “You’re saying she’s carrying his power?”

“Not carrying,” Gemma corrects softly. “Connected to it.”

Sam’s voice drops lower. “That’s impossible.”

I finally found my voice. “I didn’t ask for this,” I whisper. “I don’t even know what it is.”

Sam looks at me like he’s seeing a stranger. “You burned half the room without touching it.”

“I didn’t mean to!” My voice cracks. “It just happened.”

Gemma kneels beside me, putting a steadying hand on my shoulder. “She’s not lying. Her father created a blood link before he died. It stayed dormant until now.”

Sam’s hands curl into fists. “Why now?”

“Because something triggered it.”

Gemma glances at me again, her expression tight. I know what she’s thinking but doesn’t say. Sam’s mark. That night.

Sam notices her hesitation. “Say it.”

Gemma shakes her head. “You wouldn’t want the answer.”

He steps closer, his tone like ice. “Say it.”

Her eyes flick toward me. “The night in the woods… when you marked her… you connected to what was left of her father’s essence. You didn’t just mark her, you woke her up.”

Sam goes still. For a second, he doesn’t even breathe. “That’s not possible.”

“It is,” she says. “You felt it too, didn’t you? That pull you couldn’t explain.”

His jaw tightens, but he says nothing.

Gemma stands slowly. “It wasn’t your fault. You were drugged. But the connection formed anyway. Now, whatever is left of that darkness whatever her father tried to preserve is awake.”

The room feels smaller, heavier. Sam looks at me like I’m something dangerous, something he can’t recognize anymore.

“Is she a threat?” he asks quietly.

Gemma hesitates. “Not to you.”

“Then to who?”

Gemma glances toward the door. “To anyone who tries to use her.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning.

Sam crosses his arms, thinking. “And how exactly do you suggest we control this?”

“We can’t control it,” Gemma says. “We can only teach her to control herself.”

Sam lets out a humorless laugh. “You think she can learn to handle something her father couldn’t?”

“She’s not him,” Gemma says firmly.

He looks at me again. “No. But she’s his blood.”

Something in my chest twists painfully. “You think I wanted this?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Three years,” I whisper. “Three years I’ve done everything you asked. I worked, I bled, I lived in that dungeon, and you still look at me like I’m poison.”

He steps closer, his expression unreadable. “Maybe I was wrong,” he says quietly. “Maybe you were never meant to be saved.”

The words cut deeper than any wound. I turn away, blinking back tears, but I can’t hide the tremor in my hands.

Gemma moves between us again. “Enough. If you keep pushing her, you’ll break what’s left of her control.”

Sam’s eyes darken. “Then maybe it needs to break.”

The lights flicker.

All three of us freeze.

The fire in the hearth flares suddenly, glowing blue before dimming again. The temperature drops so fast that I can see my breath.

“What’s happening?” I whisper.

Gemma’s face drains of color. “He’s trying to reach her.”

Sam frowns. “Who?”

Gemma’s voice shakes. “Her father.”

A sound fills the room low and deep, like the rumble of thunder beneath the ground. The walls vibrate.

I press my hands to my ears, but it doesn’t help. The sound isn’t outside. It’s inside me.

Pain rips through my chest, sharp and burning. I fall to my knees, gasping.

“Ella!” Gemma kneels beside me.

Sam grabs my arms, trying to steady me, but the moment his skin touches mine, the mark on my neck burns hot like fire spreading through my veins.

“Get away from her!” Gemma shouts.

But Sam doesn’t move. “She’s burning up!”

The fire flares again. Papers lift off the table, spinning through the air. The whole room hums with power I can’t control.

And then everything stops.

The sound, the movement, the fire gone. The air goes still.

Sam’s hand is still on my arm. But he’s staring at me like he’s seeing something that shouldn’t exist.

“Your eyes,” he whispers.

I blink, confused. “What about them?”

Gemma’s voice is barely audible. “They’re glowing.”

I look toward the dark window, and my reflection stares back faint, blurred, but unmistakable. My irises are no longer their usual color. They shimmer, golden red, like burning embers.

Sam lets go of me slowly. “What did he do to you?”

I shake my head, terrified. “I don’t know.”

The door bursts open again. Cole rushes in, out of breath. “Alpha! The northern border ” He stops dead when he sees the room. His eyes flick from me to the fire to Sam. “What… what happened here?”

Sam doesn’t answer. He just stares at me.

Cole looks between us, confused. “Alpha, the scouts just returned. The bodies at the border… they’re moving.”

Gemma stiffens. “Moving?”

Cole nods. “They were buried this morning. Now they’re gone.”

The silence that follows is thick and cold.

Gemma turns to me, her face pale. “It’s started.”

“What’s started?” I ask, my voice shaking.

“The awakening,” she whispers. “Your father’s followers. They’re waking up.”

Sam steps forward, his eyes locked on mine. “Then this pack is already in danger.”

And for the first time, I see something new in his face. Not hatred. Not anger.

Fear.

He looks at Gemma, then at me. “If what you’re saying is true, she’s the only one who can stop this.”

Gemma nods grimly. “If she can control it in time.”

Sam’s voice lowers. “Then we don’t have time to waste.”

I look at him, my heart racing. “You’re going to help me?”

He meets my eyes. “If saving you means saving my pack… then yes.”

But his tone holds something else too, something unspoken, fragile, dangerous.

And deep down, I know this isn’t just about sav

ing his pack anymore.

It’s about saving us.

Outside, thunder rolls again louder this time, closer.

And somewhere in the distance, a howl rises. Not a wolf’s howl. Something darker.