Celine's scream split the chamber. The air trembled. Shadows writhed across the stone floor as the seal reacted to her presence — no longer containing, but provoking.
Her eyes glowed red. The silver pendant on her chest burned hot.
"Stop the ritual!" one elder shouted.
But it was too late.
Power surged from her like a tidal wave. One of the elders — the closest conducting the ritual — was flung backward, blood spraying as his body struck the wall with a sickening crunch. His form crumpled, unmoving.
"She's lost control!" another barked.
"Contain her — now!"
The remaining elders formed a circle, ancient chants spilling from their lips. Runes shimmered midair, locking onto Celine's aura. She thrashed, snarling — a beast between states — her limbs stretching, bones cracking.
It wasn't a full transformation. It was worse — a fractured resonance between wolf and girl.
As the ritual reached its peak, a final rune flared and exploded, and Celine collapsed, unconscious.
The room fell still.
---
Darian, who had stood back by Celine's request, now stepped forward, fists clenched. His icy gaze swept across the elders.
"What the hell was that?" he demanded.
Varn turned, unfazed. "Necessary precautions. Her power is… unstable."
"You provoked it," Darian growled. "You knew."
Varn didn't answer. But his eyes gleamed.
"We'll keep her here for further evaluation."
"No." Darian stepped between them. "She's coming home. If you try to stop me, you'll regret it."
There was a dangerous pause. Then — the main doors opened.
A cloaked figure entered, flanked by guards in royal insignia.
Prince Kael.
His presence chilled the room. "What's going on here?" he asked, his gaze moving from the unconscious girl to the ritual circle scorched into the floor.
Varn forced a smile. "A minor incident. Nothing to trouble you with, Your Highness."
The Prince's eyes narrowed. "I will report this to the King. Be careful what secrets you hide."
With Kael watching, Varn had no choice but to relent.
"Very well. Let her go… for now."
---
But as Darian rode away with Celine slumped in his arms, Varn's mask dropped.
"She is too dangerous to leave unchecked," he hissed. "Send a retrieval squad. If she won't serve us... kill her."
The assassins moved that night. Silent. Deadly.
But they never returned.
In the shadows, Darian waited.
Two dead. One wounded fled back to Varn.
---
Narrator Voice:
In this world, werewolves are not equal. The strength of their bodies, the sharpness of their senses, and the terror of their awakened forms are governed by power ranks — from F to S, each with three stages. Unawakened werewolves rarely exceed B1.
But those with true bloodlines... they defy all limits.
And within Celine, sleeps something ancient. Something that doesn't obey.
Something that howls beneath the blood moon.
---