The break came sooner than any of us expected.
It started with a scream.
I was halfway between the training yard and the kitchen, having been sent on a water run by a very persuasive Head Cook (“Take this jug to the well, Kaia, and I’ll pretend I didn’t see you stealing extra bread”), when the sound sliced the afternoon.
High-pitched.
Panicked.
Pup.
Every muscle in my body locked.
Ashra surged to the front so fast I almost staggered.
*Pup,* she snarled. *Danger.*
I dropped the jug.
Water splashed over the flagstones.
“Kaia?” someone called.
I didn’t answer.
I ran.
The scream came again, muffled now, from the direction of the western boundary.
Warriors shouted.
The air shifted.
I sprinted past startled omegas, through the side gate, into the trees.
Branches whipped my face.
Roots snagged my boots.
I leapt them without thinking, the forest a blur.
Halfway to the western ridge, I heard Tiernan’s howl.
It was sharp, cutting through the air, layered with command and fear.
My skin prickled.
Tiernan, Kade, Ashra, me—we all seemed to align in that instant, our instincts snapping in the same direction.
*Faster,* Ashra urged.
*Already going,* I panted.
The clearing near the ravine opened ahead.
Chaos.
Warriors in half-shift, teeth bared.
Kellan’s gray wolf, hackles high, holding a line.
Rhys’s massive black wolf, eyes burning.
And beyond them—
At the edge of the drop where the ravine yawned—
Two figures.
One small.
One…wrong.
A pup—maybe nine, maybe ten—clung to a thin tree growing too close to the edge, her fingers white on the bark, her eyes huge with terror. The ground beneath her had crumbled, leaving her feet on nothing.
Above her, leaning casually against one of the carved stones, was Callen.
His eyes glowed faintly blue.
He smiled when he saw me.
“Kaia,” he called. “Perfect timing.”
Rage flared.
Tiernan’s wolf stood between us and the blue-eyed stranger, every line of his body coiled.
He snarled, voice echoing in my mind and through the clearing.
*Step away from her.*
Callen’s expression went mock-innocent. “Why so tense, Alpha Voss? I’m just enjoying the view.”
The pup whimpered.
Her fingers slid a fraction down the tree bark.
A few crumbs of dirt tumbled into the ravine below, disappearing into darkness.
“Help,” she gasped. “Please—”
Rhys’s wolf surged forward.
The earth at the ravine’s edge…ripples.
Like something pushed against it from below.
A crack spidered out from the stone at Callen’s feet, racing toward Rhys’s paws.
Rhys jumped back, snarling.
The ground where he’d been standing crumbled, falling in a small cascade of dirt and rock.
Callen laughed.
“Kellan,” Tiernan snapped. “Get the line back. No heroics. The edge is compromised.”
Kellan snarled, but he obeyed, herding the nearest wolves a step farther from the drop, their paws digging into more solid ground.
I skidded to a halt beside Tiernan, lungs burning.
“Kaia,” he said without taking his eyes off Callen. “Stay back.”
“No,” I said.
His gaze flicked to me then, sharp. “This isn’t training,” he said. “He’s using the stones. The ravine. It’s unstable. One wrong surge—”
“I know,” I said. “That’s why I’m not staying back.”
Ashra growled in agreement. *He plays with rock. We play better.*
Callen’s eyes lit when he saw me.
“There she is,” he said. “The storm girl. The hall hero. The pet elemental.”
“Let the pup go,” I said.
He sighed theatrically. “Always straight to business. No ‘hello’? No ‘how did you sleep after I whispered to your dreams’?”
My stomach dropped.
“You,” I whispered.
He grinned, blue eyes bright. “Me.”
Tiernan’s growl deepened. *You went into her dreams,* he snarled. *Coward.*
“I offered her a choice,” Callen said mildly. “Not my fault she’s too pack-drunk to take it.”
“Is this how you make offers?” I demanded, gesturing at the trembling child. “Dangling pups over ravines?”
He glanced back at her, as if surprised she was still there.
“Oh, that?” He flicked his fingers.
The ground around the tree shivered.
The pup yelped as another chunk of dirt fell.
“That was an accident,” he said. “Really. I just wanted a quiet moment with my cousin stones. Your guards misinterpreted.”
“They found you bleeding on them,” Rian said from somewhere behind us, his voice tight. “That’s not a quiet visit. That’s sabotage.”
Callen rolled his eyes. “You Stormwake types and your definitions.”
“Let her go,” I repeated, heat rising in my chest.
He tilted his head. “Or what?” he asked softly. “You’ll set me on fire? Crack the ground further? Melt the poor thing’s hands off the tree?”
Ashra snarled.
*He underestimates us,* she said. *He thinks we are as clumsy as he is.*
I grit my teeth.
“You’re an elemental,” I said. “You know what happens when you poke power you don’t understand. The ravine’s old. Deep. You tug too hard, you bring half this ridge down with you.”
His smile thinned. “We do understand,” he said. “More than your alphas ever will. We understand what it’s like to be bound to their wars and their whims. To be used and discarded. We’re done with it.”
“We?” I repeated.
He lifted his hands.
Blue light flickered along his fingers.
The symbols on the stones at his back glowed faintly in response.
*Not alone,* Ashra noted. *He carries others’ touches. Borrowed power.*
“We are done,” Callen said, voice growing stronger, “being their weapons and their scapegoats. We are done burying our birthright because they’re afraid of it. We are done pretending the Goddess’s ‘gift’ is anything but chains.”
Rhys’s wolf snarled.
Tiernan’s aura bristled.
Elyra, in human form near the back of the line, went pale.
“You think terrorizing a child makes you righteous?” I demanded. “You think threatening to crack a ravine at our border makes your argument stronger?”
His eyes flicked to the pup again, almost absently.
“She’s not the point,” he said. “She’s just…leverage.”
Rage exploded.
Ashra surged to the forefront.
Heat flared under my skin, dangerous and bright.
Tiernan swore under his breath. *Kaia—*
*Don’t,* I snapped. *Don’t tell me to calm down. Not now.*
He grimaced but didn’t reach for me with command.
He trusted me.
Fool.
Brave fool.
I stepped forward.
The ground near the edge vibrated in warning.
“Careful,” Kellan snarled.
I kept my steps measured, stopping a safe distance from the crumbling lip.
Callen watched me, head cocked.
“So?” he said. “What will you do, little storm? Beg? Bargain? Join me?”
I inhaled.
The wind tasted of dirt and fear and old stone.
“You want freedom,” I said. “I get that.”
His brows rose. “Do you?”
“Yes,” I said. “I know what it’s like to be used. To be shoved somewhere ‘for my own good’ while alphas decide my life without my input. I know what it’s like to be treated like a tool, not a person. My parents died as someone else’s shield. I grew up in someone else’s shadow. You think you’re the only one who’s angry?”
His eyes flickered.
“But here’s the thing,” I continued, voice rising. “You’re not fighting your chains. You’re handing yours to someone else. That pup didn’t put stones in your blood. She didn’t bleed on the rocks. She didn’t whisper in my dreams. She’s just scared. And you’re using that. That doesn’t make you a revolutionary. It makes you a bully.”
Heat pulsed in my veins.
The stones hummed.
Callen’s jaw clenched.
“You talk a lot for someone who’s been collared by an alpha her whole life,” he snarled. “Tell me, storm girl—when did your mate last tell you ‘no’ and you obeyed? When did your Luna last pat you on the head and send you to bed while the adults talked?”
My cheeks flamed.
He saw it.
He smiled, vicious.
“You burn for them,” he said. “And they still don’t trust you. They never will. They’ll use you as long as you’re useful, and then they’ll lock you in a tower or a stone circle or a grave. Like they did to ours. We’re offering you a different path.”
“A path of dangling children over cliffs,” I said. “Tempting.”
He snarled. “You’re not listening.”
“I am,” I said. “I’m listening to the part of you that’s hurt. And to the part that’s forgotten how to *stop* hurting others because of it.”
Silence stretched.
For a heartbeat, his eyes—those too-pale, too-bright eyes—flickered.
Something like doubt.
Then it hardened.
“You don’t know what we’ve seen,” he said. “What we’ve suffered. You lived in an omega wing and cried over spilled porridge. You haven’t watched alphas hunt your kind for sport. You haven’t watched mothers slit their own wrists rather than see their pups bound to pack stones.”
My breath whooshed out.
“Where?” Rian snapped. “Who? We have no reports of elementals being—”
“Of course you don’t,” Callen sneered. “They hid it from you. Just like they hid *her*.” He jerked his chin at me. “Buried in dishes and laundry until her power forced its way out.”
Ashra growled. *He is not entirely wrong,* she said reluctantly.
I hated that.
“I’m not saying the packs are blameless,” I said. I looked at Rhys. At Elyra. At Kellan. “You *aren’t*. You’ve made mistakes. Big ones. Fatal ones. You’ve turned fear into law and law into cages. But I’m not going to fix that by burning pups and cracking ravines.”
Callen laughed harshly. “You think you can fix this from inside?” he spat. “You think your pretty speeches and your storm alpha’s puppy eyes will change centuries of control? You’re naive.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But I’d rather be naive and trying than bitter and dangerous.”
His hands clenched.
The stone under his feet glowed brighter.
The cracks spread.
The pup sobbed, fingers slipping another inch.
“Please,” she whispered. “It hurts. My hands…”
Something in me snapped.
This time, I didn’t reach for heat.
I reached for *ground*.
The earth’s slow pulse, the way Tiernan had taught me to feel.
It was there—steady, deep, under the panic and noise.
I sank my awareness down.
*We do not take more than we can pay for,* Ashra reminded me. *Roots are ancient. We are young. Ask. Don’t rip.*
*Ask who?* I thought frantically.
*The land,* she said. *The stones. The ravine.*
Crazy.
Insane.
But everything about the last weeks had been insane.
I closed my eyes.
*Please,* I thought, not sure if I was speaking to earth, Goddess, parents, all of the above. *Hold. Just for a breath. Just long enough to get her back.*
Something…listened.
The hum under my feet shifted.
The cracks at the ravine’s edge paused.
Not reversed.
Not healed.
Just…stopped.
Callen’s eyes widened.
“What are you—” he started.
Tiernan moved.
One moment he was at my side.
The next, he was past me, a blur of motion, sprinting toward the edge.
“Kellan!” he shouted. “Cover!”
Kellan’s wolf surged, others flanking, forming a half-circle behind us.
Tiernan dove for the tree.
The pup screamed.
For a heartbeat, everything hung—man, child, stone, dirt, all in precarious balance.
Then the earth groaned.
It started to give.
Ashra howled inside me.
*Now,* she snarled.
I let go of the hold on the cracks.
But not fully.
I didn’t have the strength—or the right—to command the earth.
I could only…nudge.
Tilt.
So I did.
I aimed the worst of the crumble *away* from the tree’s base.
Away from Tiernan’s grasping hands.
Into the already-damaged section beneath Callen’s feet.
The ground under him gave way.
His eyes went wide.
He slipped.
His hands flailed, grabbing for the stone.
Too late.
He slid over the edge with a snarl.
Tiernan’s fingers closed around the pup’s wrist.
He hauled her bodily up onto solid ground just as the last of the crumbling ledge fell away.
She collapsed against his chest, sobbing.
He wrapped his arms around her, eyes still on the ravine, chest heaving.
Silence slammed into the clearing.
No one moved.
No one breathed.
Then, faintly, from far below, came a laugh.
Not Callen’s.
Deeper.
Older.
Chill crawled up my spine.
Ashra’s fur stood on end.
*We woke something,* she whispered.
Tiernan’s gaze snapped to mine.
We didn’t speak.
We didn’t have to.
In that instant, we both knew:
The stones were not just old.
They were occupied.
And whatever had been whispering to Callen—and now to us—had just been given a taste of fresh power.
Our power.
Mine.
“Get back,” Rhys barked, his voice rough in our minds. “Everyone. Now. Away from the edge.”
We obeyed.
Tiernan lifted the pup easily, cradling her against his shoulder.
She clung to him, hiccuping.
Eren rushed forward.
“I’ll take her,” he said, voice shaking.
Tiernan hesitated.
Then, gently, transferred her into Eren’s arms.
She latched onto his neck like a limpet.
Brenna appeared at my side, breathing hard, eyes wide.
“Are you okay?” she demanded. “Are you—”
“I’m fine,” I lied.
My legs felt like water.
My hands shook.
My head pounded.
“You’re not fine,” Tiernan said quietly, moving to my other side. His hand came to rest on my back, steadying, warm.
Rhys shifted back to human form with a crack of bones and a rush of fur, heedless of his nudity in the panic.
His face was carved from stone.
“Report,” he snapped.
Kellan, still in wolf form, bared his teeth in the direction of the ravine.
*Blue-eyed bastard tried to crack our border,* he snarled. *Used the stones. The pup wandered too close. He took advantage.*
Rian, panting, appeared from the treeline. *He had help,* he said. *I felt…threads. Other signatures. Not here physically. Connected. Through him.*
Rhys swore, low and vicious.
Elyra, pale, stepped forward. “We need to seal this,” she said. “Now. Before whatever swallowed him decides to spit something worse back out.”
“Can we?” I asked, throat dry.
She looked at me.
Her gaze was…complicated.
Fear.
Regret.
Awe.
“I don’t know,” she said softly. “But we have to try.”
Tiernan’s hand pressed a little more firmly into my back.
“Not today,” he said. “Not with her this drained.”
“She has to be part of it,” Rian said. “We all know that. The land’s already tasted her. It’ll listen to her more than it listens to us.”
“I don’t care,” Tiernan snapped. “She just about held a collapsing ledge together long enough for me to grab that pup. She asked the earth for a favor and it *answered*. You want to tempt it again with her as the offering?”
“We don’t have a choice,” Rhys said grimly. “If we leave this as-is, whatever’s down there has a neat little doorway into our territory.”
“Then *I* will stand in it,” Tiernan snarled. “Not her.”
Heat flushed my face.
Anger flared.
“I’m right here,” I snapped. “Stop talking about me like I’m a sacrificial goat.”
They all froze.
I took a shaking breath.
“If we’re doing this,” I said, voice steadier than I felt, “we’re doing it smart. Not fast. Not twenty minutes after we nearly collapsed the ridge. We reinforce the area. We bring more wolves. We bring…knowledge. Stormwake’s ritual records. Redwood’s. Frostfang’s. Anyone who has old stone lore. Then, when we have a ritual that doesn’t end with me falling into a magic hole, we try.”
Rhys’s jaw clenched.
Elyra nodded slowly. “She’s right,” she said. “Rushing in half-prepared is how we ended up with ravines and burnt armies in the first place.”
Rian exhaled. “Stormwake will share what we have,” he said. “And I know at least two packs who still light candles to pre-Goddess storm deities. They’ll have stories.”
Kellan growled low. *In the meantime…we guard,* he said. *No one comes near this place without my teeth in their scent.*
“That includes you,” Tiernan said to me, eyes hard. “No heroic midnight visits to stare into the dark and have philosophical conversations with whatever laughed down there. Understood?”
I bristled. “I’m not that stupid.”
He arched a brow.
I grimaced. “Mostly not that stupid.”
He made a low, frustrated sound. “Kaia—”
“I’m exhausted,” I cut in. “And starving. And my head feels like someone banged it against a rock. The last thing I want to do is come back here tonight and chat with the ravine. I promise.”
He searched my face.
Ashra sighed. *We are too tired to lie,* she said. *Tell him truth.*
“I won’t come back here alone,” I said. “Not until we have a plan. Not until…we know more.”
He nodded slowly.
“Good,” he said. “Because if you did, I’d have to drag you back by the scruff, and that would be undignified for both of us.”
Despite everything, a choked laugh escaped me.
Brenna slid her arm through mine. “Come on,” she said. “Let the alphas glower at the hole. You need soup.”
“I always need soup,” I muttered.
As we walked away, leaning into Brenna on one side and Tiernan on the other, I glanced back over my shoulder.
The stones stood, humming faintly.
The ravine yawned.
For a second—just one—I thought I saw something move in the shadows.
Eyes.
Not blue.
Not gold.
Something else.
Ancient.
Hungry.
Watching.
Ashra bared her teeth inside me.
*We will not be its meal,* she vowed.
*No,* I agreed. *We won’t.*
But as we left the clearing, the laugh from the depths echoed again in my mind.
And I knew, with cold certainty, that the storm in our lives was only just beginning.