The moment Sophia stepped through the portal, her breath caught.
The air was different—thicker, richer, humming with old magic and unspoken secrets. Crimson skies stretched overhead, streaked with violet clouds, and the earth beneath her boots pulsed with latent power. Lucian's kingdom was nothing like she imagined. The terrain was wild and vast, carved by time and war, yet it breathed with life and ancient energy.
Lucian stayed close, his hand clasped around hers as his warriors followed behind, forming a protective ring around them. This was his domain, and now it was hers too. The wolf soldiers bowed low as they crossed the boundary, their gazes sharp but reverent.
"Welcome to my world," Lucian said, his voice low, almost reverent. "The land of night, of blood, of legacy."
Sophia shivered—not from cold, but from the weight of it. Her senses were sharper here. Every heartbeat around her pulsed in her ears, every whisper of wind spoke in tongues. Her transformation was no longer subtle—it was accelerating. Her back throbbed with the ache of growing wings, and her skin felt too tight for her power.
Selene appeared at her side, holding a small vial of glowing blue liquid. "Drink this. It'll help ease the pain. Your wings… they're nearly ready."
Sophia hesitated before drinking. The liquid was cool and sweet, and as it slid down her throat, warmth flooded her chest, calming the raging storm inside her.
They traveled through the edge of Lucian's kingdom, past ruins blanketed in ivy and watchtowers that had stood through centuries. At nightfall, they camped beneath the twisted trees of the shadow grove. Fires flickered, casting dancing light across the armor of the wolves and the soft curve of Sophia's face.
Lucian kept his distance, always watching, always aware. His restraint was fraying—her scent, her power, her vulnerability—it drove every part of him wild. But he couldn't rush this. Not now. Not when the prophecy loomed over them.
Sophia approached him that night, her golden eyes glowing in the firelight. "You're afraid of touching me."
He looked up slowly. "I'm afraid I'll ruin you."
She stepped closer. "You won't."
But before he could answer, a cry rang through the trees—sharp, guttural, and unnatural.
The camp surged to life.
They weren't alone anymore.
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