Dusk painted the sky in streaks of orange and violet as Layla stood at the forest’s edge, her breath shallow with anticipation. The pendant pulsed faintly against her chest, its warmth a quiet reassurance—or a warning. She couldn’t tell anymore. Beside her, Kael adjusted a backpack slung over his shoulder, his gray eyes scanning the trees with a predator’s focus. Julian lingered a step behind, his pale figure almost ghostly in the fading light, hands tucked casually into his pockets.

  “You sure about this?” Kael asked, his voice low, laced with concern.

  Layla met his gaze, her resolve firm despite the flutter of nerves. “I have to be. Whatever’s down there—it’s calling me for a reason.”

  Julian smirked, though his eyes were sharp. “Let’s hope it’s a warm welcome and not a trap.”

  Kael shot him a glare but said nothing, turning to lead the way. Layla followed, her boots crunching on fallen leaves, the hum in her head guiding her like a compass. The trio moved in silence, the forest thickening around them, branches clawing at the sky. The air grew heavier, tinged with an earthy musk that made Layla’s senses tingle—her wolf side stirring, her vampire side honing in on every detail.

  After what felt like hours but was likely minutes, they reached a rocky outcrop half-hidden by vines. A jagged fissure split the stone, barely wide enough for a person to slip through. Layla’s pendant flared, its glow illuminating the dark crevice.

  “This is it,” she said, her voice steady despite the pounding in her chest.

  Kael peered into the gap, his expression grim. “Tight fit. Smells old—older than the pack’s stories.”

  Julian tilted his head, listening. “Something’s alive down there. Not human, not wolf, not vampire. Be ready.”

  Layla nodded, squeezing through first, the rough stone scraping her arms. Kael followed, his bulk making it a struggle, then Julian, who slipped in with eerie grace. The passage sloped downward, the air cooling as they descended, the walls narrowing until they brushed her shoulders. The pendant’s light cast eerie shadows, revealing faint carvings—crescent moons, droplets, symbols echoing her bloodline’s mark.

  The tunnel opened into a cavern, vast and cavernous, its ceiling lost in darkness. Crimson veins pulsed faintly along the walls, like a living heartbeat, and at the center stood a stone altar, weathered but intact. The hum in Layla’s head surged, resonating with the cavern’s energy, and she felt it—a presence, ancient and immense, watching her.

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  “Welcome, child of blood and moon,” a voice rasped, not in her ears but in her mind. It was deep, layered, neither male nor female but both.

  Layla froze, her breath catching. Kael and Julian flanked her, tense and alert.

  “Who are you?” she demanded, her voice echoing off the stone.

  A shadow coalesced above the altar, formless yet tangible, its edges shimmering with red and silver light. “I am the First—the origin of your kind. The one who forged the bridge you walk.”

  Julian’s eyes narrowed. “A progenitor. I thought your kind were myth.”

  “Not myth,” the shadow replied, its tone sharp. “Forgotten. Betrayed. Sealed here by those who feared my power.”

  Layla’s pendant burned now, its glow almost blinding. “Why me? Why call me here?”

  “Because you are mine,” it said, the words sinking into her bones. “The last of my line, born of wolf and vampire, as I was. Your blood awakens me, and through you, I can rise again.”

  Kael growled, stepping closer to Layla. “She’s not your tool.”

  The shadow pulsed, a ripple of anger. “She is my legacy. The wolves chained me, the vampires bled me dry. They divided what I united. She will restore it—or destroy it.”

  Layla’s mind reeled. “Restore what? I don’t even know what you want!”

  “Balance,” it hissed. “Or vengeance. Choose, child. Embrace your birthright, or reject it and let chaos reign.”

  Julian’s voice cut through, calm but edged. “And if she chooses neither? What then?”

  The shadow’s laughter was a cold wind. “Then others will choose for her. The wolves sense her already. The coven closes in. My awakening stirs them all.”

  Layla’s stomach knotted. Lucien’s visit, the pack’s hostility—it was all connected to this. “What happens if you rise?” she asked, dreading the answer.

  “I reclaim what was taken,” it said. “The worlds of fang and claw bend to me once more. Through you.”

  Kael’s hand found hers, his grip tight. “Layla, this thing’s dangerous. It’s using your bloodline to manipulate you.”

  “He’s not wrong,” Julian agreed, his tone unusually grave. “Progenitors don’t share power—they consume it.”

  The shadow flared, its voice thunderous. “I gave her life! I am her strength! Without me, she falls to those who hunt her.”

  Layla pulled free from Kael, stepping toward the altar, her heart pounding. “I’m not your puppet. I came here for answers, not to be claimed.”

  The shadow loomed larger, its edges crackling. “You cannot deny your blood. It sings to me, as I sing to you.”

  The hum in her head swelled, overwhelming, and she clutched the pendant, its heat searing her palm. “Stop it!” she shouted, her voice reverberating through the cavern. The glow flared brighter, and for a moment, she felt its power—her power—push back against the shadow.

  It recoiled, shrinking slightly, its voice a hiss. “Stronger than I thought. But untested. Choose soon, child, or the choice will be made for you.”

  With a final pulse of crimson light, the shadow dissipated, leaving the cavern silent but for their ragged breathing. Layla sank to her knees, the pendant dimming, her body trembling.

  Kael crouched beside her, his touch gentle. “You okay?”

  She nodded weakly, though she wasn’t sure. “It’s… a lot.”

  Julian stood over them, his gaze fixed on the altar. “That thing’s no myth—it’s a threat. If it’s waking up, we’re all in deeper than we realized.”

  Kael helped Layla up, his arm steadying her. “We need to get out of here. Figure out what’s next.”

  Layla glanced at the altar, then at the crimson veins fading into the walls. “It’s not letting me go that easily. It’s in my blood.”

  “Then we fight it,” Kael said firmly. “Together.”

  Julian’s smirk returned, faint but real. “For once, I agree with the wolf. But we’ll need more than fists and fangs.”

  Layla straightened, her resolve hardening despite her exhaustion. “I’m not running from this. If it’s part of me, I’ll face it—my way.”

  Kael’s eyes softened with pride, while Julian’s held a glint of respect. They exited the cavern in silence, the weight of the First’s words pressing down on them. The forest above was calm, but Layla knew it was a fleeting peace. The shadow’s call lingered in her blood, a promise—or a threat—she couldn’t ignore.