Sanathiel opened his eyes with a jolt. He wasn't asleep, yet the voice that called to him rose from a place deeper than thought—an echo resonating in the darkest parts of his being.
"Sanathiel…"
The voice whispered again, more insistent this time, as if an invisible hand was trying to pull him from the shadows.
His jaw tightened.It wasn't Aisha.
It was something else.Something he recognized… but hadn't expected to feel now.
"You had to show up eventually," he muttered to himself, eyes briefly shutting.
The bond with his brothers was a distant echo, a frayed thread that occasionally vibrated with the memory of what they once were. And tonight, thick with omens, one of those echoes rang loud and clear.
Sariel.
The name burned into his mind like a hot brand.
"Don't play games with me," Sanathiel growled, crumpling the paper with Aisha's portrait in his hand, as if squeezing it would force truth from memory.
The voice faded, but its presence lingered in the air—sticky, like a scent that refused to vanish. Sariel was watching him, from the shadows, from some hidden corner of the city.
It had been two decades since he'd tried to erase everything tied to the Kerens name. Even upon awakening, he was a prisoner—punished for defying the Council of Thirteen.
Until winter came, cloaking the world in white silence.
He looked out over the moonlit skyline, and his thoughts wandered back to that night.The night of the Red Moon.
Sanathiel sighed, his gaze drifting toward the horizon.
"Aisha…" he murmured, claws digging into his palm until pain blossomed.
Aisha. A figure bound to him in ways he couldn't explain.
To shake off the thoughts, he returned to his room. Grabbing a pencil, he furiously sketched her face onto a blank sheet. The drawing was rough, but something about it unsettled him—as if the woman in the portrait reflected the curse etched into his soul.
"Maybe you're the key to my revenge against Luciano, the Exiled. Maybe you're the path I've been searching for."
The car rolled down a wide avenue, surrounded by neon-lit towers. Artificial light replaced the moonlight, but true darkness dwelled in the alleyways—where creatures like him roamed unseen.
When the limousine stopped in front of a luxury hotel, a suited man opened the door with a respectful nod.
"Welcome, Mr. Kerens."
Sanathiel stepped out in silence. His elegance was innate, etched into every move. He took his suitcase and walked through a crystal-lit lobby. The opulence meant nothing to him; he had once owned wealth beyond measure. None of it filled the void inside.
At the front desk, the receptionist smiled politely, unaware of the shadow trailing him.
"Your room is ready. Would you like anything delivered?"
"No."His voice was cold—razor sharp.
He took the keycard and entered the elevator. As the doors closed, he caught his reflection in the mirrored wall.
A handsome young man with intense eyes and regal bearing stared back. But behind those golden irises, the wolf waited.
Sariel's voice had only been the first warning.
Tomorrow, he would find Aisha.And the hunt would begin.
Elsewhere, in Colegio Mayor Unidad, Aisha tried to ignore the stifling heat of the classroom. But a chill traced her spine.Something was watching.
Crossing the hallway toward the library, a sudden image flared in her mind:A white wolf with blazing eyes.
The impact froze her mid-step, breath catching. The air around her shifted—foul and suffocating. She covered her mouth and ran to the bathroom, her stomach rebelling against whatever she had just felt.
"There's nothing…" she whispered, clutching the sink.
But the echoes lingered.A mournful howl trembled through her mind—a cry that didn't belong to her.
Hours later, in her dorm room, her fingers turned the pages of an old book without thought. Then her gaze locked on the title:The Nevri.
Her heart pounded.Some part of her… recognized that word.
Far from there, in his hidden lair, Sanathiel felt the soft brush of a presence entering his mind.
It wasn't Sariel.It wasn't Luciano.
It was her.
A lupine grin crept across his face as the car raced down the road.
"Soon, Aisha… very soon," Sanathiel whispered, the echo of his voice rippling through the night.
And at that moment, the girl's voice trembled faintly inside him—like an echo she hadn't yet understood.
"Sanathiel…"