Chapter 7 - The Awakening
Chaos erupted instantly.
The Laurent guards pulled their weapons, ambushing the unsuspecting Belmont council members. Steel clashed against steel, and the horrific sound of bone snapping echoed through the rain as wolves shifted into their beast forms, tearing into one another.
Valente didn't hesitate. He dropped the ceremonial dagger, his body exploding into a storm of black fur, muscle, and razor-sharp fangs. His black wolf materialized in full, terrifying glory, letting out a roar that shook the very foundation of the estate.
VIVIEN!
The psychic scream echoed through the bond, slamming into Vivien’s mind up in the gallery.
She stepped back from the window, her heart hammering against her ribs. She turned to run toward the door, but before she could reach it, the heavy oak doors of her room burst inward, splintering into hundreds of wooden shards.
Three rogue assassins, their fur matted with black blood and their eyes glowing a sinister violet, crept into the room.
"There she is," the lead rogue growled, his jaw dripping with saliva. "The Alpha's little hidden treasure."
Vivien backed up until her spine hit the stone wall. She reached blindly behind her, her fingers wrapping around a heavy bronze candlestick, but she knew it was useless against three fully shifted Alpha-tier rogues.
"Don't come any closer," she commanded, trying to keep her voice steady.
The rogues chuckled, a horrible, guttural sound. "A latent bitch trying to order us around? Your King is dying in the courtyard, little girl. Nobody is coming to save you."
The lead wolf lunged, its massive jaws snapping open, aimed directly at her throat.
Instinct took over. Vivien didn't think; she raised her hands, curling her body defensively over her womb.
A blinding, golden light erupted from her skin.
It wasn't the weak, flickering light of a latent wolf. It was an ancient, blinding, suffocating shockwave of pure, unadulterated divine magic. The air in the room combusted. The power surged out of her, hitting the lead wolf full in the chest.
The massive beast was thrown backward through the air, crashing through the balcony doors and plummeting two stories to the stone courtyard below.
The remaining two rogues shrank back, whimpering in absolute horror as they stared at Vivien.
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Her dark hair was floating around her head as if suspended in water. Her eyes—once a gentle brown—were glowing with an ancient, terrifying silver flame. The dormant mark of the Sun-Lycans, an extinct royal bloodline thought to have vanished a thousand years ago, burned brightly upon her throat.
She wasn't a latent wolf. Her power had been sealed away by her ancestors to protect her line from extermination—and the life growing inside her had just broken the seal.
