Chapter 6

Ayla's heart pounded against her ribcage, her instincts screaming at her to run. The cloaked figure stepped into the dim light of the cavern, its aura suffocating. Shadows seemed to ripple around it like living entities, whispering threats too quiet to comprehend. The glow of its golden eyes fixed on her, sending a shiver through her entire body. She was paralyzed by its power—a force darker and older than anything she had ever encountered.

Lucien moved to stand between Ayla and the figure, his body tense, his muscles rippling as his claws extended. “Who are you?” he growled, his voice filled with rage. “And what do you want with her?”

The figure let out a low chuckle, a sound that echoed eerily through the cavern walls. “What I want is not yours to question, rogue. She belongs to the High Council, and by extension... to me.”

Lucien bared his teeth, his amber eyes glowing fiercely in the dim light. “She belongs to no one.”

The cloaked figure’s laughter grew louder, mocking. “And yet, here you are, claiming her for yourself.” He raised a hand, and the shadows around him grew darker, their tendrils stretching out toward Ayla like claws. “The power within her is unstable. Dangerous. Left unchecked, it will destroy not only her but everyone around her. Do you really believe you can protect her from herself?”

Ayla took a step back, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. The words hit too close to home. The figure was right—she couldn’t control the power. It surged inside her like a storm, wild and untamed, threatening to consume her.

Lucien growled low in his throat, his claws scraping the ground. “You’re wrong. Ayla’s stronger than you think. She doesn’t need your chains to control her power.”

The figure’s golden eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper. “You are a fool, Lucien. You would risk everything for her, yet you know nothing of the forces you are defying.”

Ayla’s fear was replaced by a sudden surge of anger. She clenched her fists, feeling the power inside her stir, its heat spreading through her veins. She was tired of being spoken about as though she weren’t even there. “Stop!” she shouted, her voice echoing through the cavern. “I’m not some prize to be claimed or controlled. If you think you can take me, then come and try.”

The shadows around the figure recoiled for a moment, as if startled by her defiance. But the figure only smiled, a cruel, twisted grin. “Bold words from someone who has no idea what they’re dealing with.”

Before Ayla could respond, the figure raised his hand, and the shadows surged forward, rushing toward her like a tidal wave. Lucien lunged, his claws slicing through the darkness, but it was like fighting smoke—his attacks passed through without effect.

Ayla braced herself, her instincts screaming at her to run, but there was nowhere to go. The shadows surrounded her, their cold, suffocating presence pressing against her skin. She tried to summon the power inside her, but it resisted, slipping through her grasp like sand. Panic welled up inside her as the darkness closed in.

“Focus, Ayla!” Lucien shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. “You can do this! Don’t fight it—let it come to you!”

The wolf beside her growled, its massive form stepping between her and the advancing shadows. “He’s right. You cannot control the power by force. Surrender to it, or you will lose everything.”

Ayla’s chest tightened as the shadows closed in, their cold tendrils wrapping around her arms and legs. She felt the power inside her surge again, wild and untamed, but this time, she didn’t try to fight it. She closed her eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath, and let the magic flow through her.

The world seemed to slow as the power within her awakened fully. It was like a fire igniting in her chest, spreading warmth and light through every part of her body. The shadows recoiled, their grip loosening as her magic pushed them back.

Ayla opened her eyes, and for a moment, everything was clear. The cavern was bathed in a soft, golden light, and the shadows shrank away from her glow. The figure hissed, his golden eyes narrowing in anger.

“Impossible,” he muttered. “You can’t possibly—”

But before he could finish, Ayla raised her hand, and a burst of energy shot from her palm, cutting through the shadows like a blade of light. The figure staggered back, his cloak billowing as the force hit him.

Lucien seized the opportunity, lunging forward with a snarl. His claws raked across the figure’s chest, tearing through the black fabric. The figure let out a pained growl, retreating into the shadows.

“This isn’t over,” the figure snarled, his voice echoing through the cavern. “You may have won this battle, but the war has only just begun. The High Council will come for you, Ayla Reyne. And when they do, not even your newfound power will save you.”

With that, the figure disappeared, the shadows dissolving into the air like smoke.

Ayla sank to her knees, her body trembling as the magic inside her subsided. She felt drained, as though every ounce of energy had been sucked out of her. Lucien was at her side in an instant, his hands gripping her shoulders.

“Ayla,” he said, his voice soft but urgent. “Are you okay?”

She nodded weakly, her breath coming in short gasps. “I… I think so.”

The wolf stepped closer, his amber eyes filled with a strange mix of pride and concern. “You did well, Ayla. But this is only the beginning. The power within you is still raw, unrefined. You must learn to control it fully, or it will consume you.”

Ayla looked up at him, her expression determined despite her exhaustion. “Then teach me. Help me control it.”

The wolf nodded, his gaze steady. “I will. But you must be prepared for what lies ahead. The High Council will not stop. And the forces they command are far more dangerous than what you faced today.”