Chapter 4: The Ruins Remember
But before he closed it behind him, he said softly, “The truth will tear you apart. I just hope you survive it.”
He left.
Zara locked the door behind him, then leaned against it, sliding to the floor.
Everything hurt.
Everything burned.
And for the first time, she understood something terrifying.
She wasn’t just hunted.
She was made for war.
Zara didn’t wait for sunrise.
She was already dressed and out the window by dawn, boots crunching softly over frozen ground, the pendant burning against her chest like a second heartbeat. She didn’t leave a note. Damon wouldn’t need one. He’d smell her trail the second he woke up.
Let him come.
She needed answers, and Damon wasn’t going to give them to her. Not the real ones.
Killian waited for her at the tree line, leaning against a thick oak, arms crossed, pale eyes scanning the woods like they whispered secrets only he could hear.
“You came,” he said without a smile.
“I said I would.”
He nodded once. “Then let’s go.”
They moved quickly, slipping through the woods like shadows. No words. Just the quiet rhythm of footsteps, the sting of cold air in her lungs, and a tension thick enough to choke on. Killian didn’t ask questions. He didn’t slow down. And Zara didn’t need encouragement. Something inside her was pulling—tugging her deeper into the forest like it remembered the way home.
The trees thinned.
And then she saw it.
What was left of it.
The ruins.
Once a stronghold—now just bones. Burnt beams jutted from the earth like broken ribs. Charred stone walls clung to each other in blackened silence. The forest had begun to reclaim it; vines curled over collapsed rooms, snow dusted the cracked floor like ashes. The air smelled of cold fire, of ghosts that hadn’t left.
Zara’s breath caught.
She didn’t know this place.
But her body did.
Her knees buckled, and she dropped to the ground, palms pressing into frost-covered stone. It was like being struck by lightning—memories slamming into her chest too fast, too hot.
A small hand in hers.
“Don’t let go.”
A scream. Flames. Wolves snarling.
“Run, Zara!”
Pain. A blade across her back. A howl in her ears that didn’t belong to her.
She gasped, eyes wide. Her fingernails dug into the earth.
Killian knelt beside her but didn’t touch her. He just watched. Let her remember.
“Your sister was here when it burned,” he said quietly. “She died trying to buy you time. I failed her.”
Zara looked up. Her voice broke. “What was her name?”
He swallowed hard. “Aria.”
That name cracked something wide open.
Zara fell back, sitting among the wreckage as her heartbeat roared in her ears. The wind howled through the ruins like a wail.
“She was the only one who believed in the prophecy,” Killian said. “The Nulls were hunted to extinction because the Council feared what they could become. But your bloodline survived through your mother. Through you.”
Zara looked around, shaking her head. “This was my home?”
He nodded. “Your pack’s stronghold. They called it Ashmoor.”
She closed her eyes.
Ashmoor.
A word that echoed like a vow in her bones.
Suddenly, the wind shifted.
Killian stood quickly, shoulders tense. “We’re not alone.”
Zara got to her feet, heart thudding.
Then she heard it.
A low growl.
Not far.
Killian pulled a blade from his coat. “Stay behind me.”
A figure stepped from the far edge of the ruins.
Not a wolf. Not fully.
A man, or what used to be one. His skin was gray, veins pulsing black beneath the surface, eyes hollow and glowing faintly green. His teeth were too sharp. His body twisted—half-shifted, broken, caught between forms.
Zara’s mouth went dry. “What is that?”
Killian didn’t take his eyes off it. “A wraith. Council experiment. They hunt memory.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means it can smell what’s waking up in you. And it wants it.”
The creature lunged.
Killian moved like lightning, blade flashing, steel singing through the air. He slashed the wraith across the chest, but it didn’t slow down—it barely even flinched.
Zara backed into the broken wall, heart racing.
The pendant at her chest burned hotter.
The wraith turned to her.
Its eyes locked on hers.
“Zara,” it rasped. “The last Null.”
She froze.
Killian moved in front of her, but the wraith struck faster—throwing him against a wall with bone-cracking force.
Zara screamed.
The wraith stepped closer. “You smell like her.”
She raised her hands, trying to summon anything. Power. Light. Fire.
Nothing.
“No wolf yet?” the wraith whispered. “Then you’re not ready to die.”
It reached for her.
The pendant flared with sudden, blinding white light.
The wraith shrieked.
Smoke poured from its skin, black veins crawling like worms. It stumbled back, clawing at its face. The ruins trembled. Snow scattered. Trees groaned.
Zara fell to her knees, clutching the stone as it seared her palm.
And then—silence.
The wraith was gone.
Vapor. Ash. Nothing left.
Killian groaned from across the ruins, pushing himself to his feet. “Well… that answers that.”
Zara gasped, hand shaking. “What… what was that?”
“You,” he said, limping toward her. “That was you.”
She stared at the pendant in her hand, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
“You didn’t have to,” he said, grimacing as he checked his side. “Your power’s waking up on its own.”
Zara looked back toward the treeline.
“What happens when Damon finds out?”
Killian met her gaze. “He already knows.”
Zara’s blood ran cold.
Behind them, footsteps crunched through the snow.
Damon stepped into the ruins, coat flapping in the wind, silver eyes blazing.
His voice was quiet.
“I told you not to come here.”
Zara stood tall. “And I told you I wanted the truth.”
He looked at Killian. “Get out.”
“Your house burned. Not your kingdom,” Killian muttered, but he backed off.
Damon walked straight to Zara.
“I felt it,” he said. “Whatever you did… it wasn’t small.”
She didn’t move. “The Council sent something after me.”
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you stop it?”
He paused. “Because I wanted to see if you could.”
Zara flinched. “You used me as bait?”
“I had to know how far along you are,” he said. “The truth is… the curse didn’t just bury your memories. It bound your power. You’re unsealing it—too fast. Too violently.”
She stepped back. “Then help me control it.”
“I will,” he said, voice rough. “But you can’t run anymore. No more games. No more lies. You stay with me—or you burn this forest to the ground.”
Zara clenched her jaw.
Killian spoke from behind her. “Or… she comes with me. Learns how to unlock her power without someone pulling the strings.”
Damon growled.
Zara stood between them again. “Stop.”
They froze.
“I’m done being a pawn. You want my loyalty? Earn it. No more orders. No more claims. I choose who I become.”
The pendant pulsed once.
And the earth beneath her feet responded—like it had been waiting to obey.
Damon blinked. Killian stared.
Zara took a shaky breath.