Chapter 169: Grave yard
*~Hazel’s POV~*
Hazel’s POV
I don’t know how I did it, but somehow, I fell back to my knees—Aurora sprawled motionless on the floor before me.
The verse I had whispered in desperation, half-believing it would never work, must have carried more power than I’d realized. My body trembled, breath shallow, but the proof was there: Aurora, my friend... my jailer, lying crumpled, her head bent at an awkward angle.
I rushed to her side. "Aurora? Are you alright?"
No response.
She looked pale, feeble, her heartbeat still steady but faint beneath my palm. She hadn’t died. She had only collapsed. Relief and dread warred inside me.
Part of me wanted to help her, to bandage her head, to revive her. But another part—the desperate part—screamed louder. If I healed her now, she’d wake. She’d trap me again. And this chance, this fleeting moment of freedom, would vanish.
I clenched my fists. I can’t risk it. Not now.
This might be my only window to escape.
So I swallowed hard, whispered a shaky apology to her unconscious form, and forced myself to turn away. My pulse hammered as I dashed down the corridor.
But something was wrong.
The halls didn’t look like the High House anymore. The polished stone and familiar arches had melted into unfamiliar walls—dark, alien, twisting. I skidded to a stop, chest heaving.
What is this place?
It felt endless, strange, like I’d been lifted from one world and dropped into another.
I pressed a hand to the wall, grounding myself, trying to think. "No... no, I have to get back. I have to get to the High House before they do whatever they’re planning with Jonathan."
Panic swelled inside me. Every second I wasted here was another second Jonathan closed in. For another second, my children were in danger.
I spun around, searching desperately for a stairwell, a door, anything that looked like an exit. My chest burned.
That’s when I realized the cruel truth.
I wasn’t outside the High House at all. I was still inside. Trapped in the highest level of the building, some hidden tower or warded chamber.
The realization chilled me. I’ve been tricked. Again.
I hurried to the window and peered out. The grounds below stretched far, the drop dizzying. My palms grew clammy.
I couldn’t jump. Not yet. My powers weren’t honed enough to protect me from a fall like that. If I leapt now, I’d be a shattered mess on the courtyard stones.
But I couldn’t stay here either. Aurora would wake soon. She’d find me. She’d bind me again.
I pressed both palms to the glass, heart racing, breath quick and shallow. My eyes darted over the rooftops and gardens spread beneath me. Somewhere out there, my babies were in Cayden’s arms. Somewhere out there, Caspian was pretending everything was fine. Somewhere out there, Lilith was moving through the crowd in my place.
And somewhere out there, Jonathan was waiting.
I clenched my teeth, whispering to myself. "I have to move. I have to find a way out before it’s too late."
Aurora would wake any moment now. And when she did, my second chance at freedom would be gone.
So I did it.
I smashed the window with my bare hands, shards slicing into my palms as I threw myself into the night.
I jumped.
I didn’t know how long it took for my body to hit the ground, but the moment it did, I heard the heavy thud that rattled through my bones.
Pain exploded everywhere.
Blood spilled from my mouth as I gasped, coughing crimson into the grass. My legs bent at the wrong angles, bone jutting, nerves screaming. I couldn’t even breathe properly—my voice tore out of me in a raw, guttural howl.
And then I felt it.
The cracking.
The snapping.
My legs began to heal themselves, bones shifting back into place with loud cracks that sent lightning bolts of pain ripping through my entire body.
I screamed again, louder, curling into the dirt as the agony of my body stitching itself back together drowned out everything else.
I should have whispered the verse first, banging a shaky hand against my forehead. Damn it.
When the waves of pain finally dulled enough for me to move, I blinked up at my surroundings.
And froze.
A graveyard.
I was lying in the middle of a massive graveyard, rows upon rows of stone markers stretching into the misty night.
My heart stopped when my eyes caught one in particular.
Cyrius Salvatore...Carved deep across the stone.
My breath hitched, my chest tightening painfully. "No..."
Cyrus was locked in a coffin and sealed away in the High House. I saw it. I was there. I was the one who placed the dagger back into his chest after Dahlia tried to pull it free. He couldn’t have been buried.
"When?" My voice cracked as I staggered to my feet.
When was he buried?
Had it happened while I was unconscious, giving birth? In those missing days when my memory was nothing but haze? Or... had they wiped it from me? Erased it the same way they erased everything else?
No. My throat burned as I shook my head. No, Cyrius can’t be connected to what’s happening to me. He can’t.
But the doubt clawed at me anyway.
My baby’s voice echoed in my head—the mysterious whisper I couldn’t place. My stomach turned cold. Could it have been... Cyrius?
"No," I said aloud, desperate to silence the thought. "No. It can’t be. He’s dead. He’s gone."
Still, my legs betrayed me. They carried me forward, staggering toward the stone. My fingers brushed across the top of the grave marker, tracing his name, trembling.
The earth beneath me seemed to hum, restless.
I yanked my hand away. "No way," I whispered again, more to myself than anyone. "Cyrius isn’t the truth I’m searching for. He can’t be.. I haven’t even met him yet."
I forced myself to turn away. More reasons to get back to the High House. More reasons to find answers—before the secrets swallowed me whole.
I tried to walk, but my legs still ached, each step sending splinters of pain crawling up my spine. I staggered, clutching a nearby tree for balance, and let out another scream when the muscles threatened to give.
"Damn it! How am I supposed to get there like this?" I tipped my head back toward the sky.
The moon hung there, fat and glowing, watching me....And for the first time that night, the thought came unbidden:
If my human form is broken... maybe my wolf form isn’t.
I spoke aloud to myself, clutching my stomach. "Hey... are you in there?"
I begged silently, hoping my wolf would answer me this time—not with the usual growls or restless shifting inside me, but with actual words.
"Please," I whispered. "Come help me."
And then—I heard it, a strong feminine voice. Her voice. The vibration shook through my entire body.
"Say my name," she commanded. I froze. "Your... name?"
"Yes," she replied, sharp and steady. "Say it. Say my name, and I will give you my power."
Panic fluttered in my chest. "I don’t know your name. I’ve never met you before! We’ve never spoken—how could I know?"
"Lies." The word slammed through me like thunder.
"You have met me. You have spoken to me. You already know who I am."
My pulse raced. "No,—I don’t—"
"Say my name," she said again, fiercer this time. "Or you don’t deserve my help."
My throat went dry. My head spun. Oh my moon Goddess.
This wasn’t the first time. I had met her before. I had spoken to her. I had even given her a name.
But it was gone. Ripped out of my mind. Stolen from me like they’d stolen everything else—where is Ariel...Natasha, my father. Even Cyrius, suddenly dead and buried, though I’d been there when the dagger was placed in his chest.
And now, even my wolf. Even my wolf’s name.
My hands shook. "Oh, Goddess..." My voice cracked. "They erased it. They erased you from me."
Rage built in my chest. "Who the hell are these people I call my family? What else have they taken away from me?"
The voice inside growled, low and warning.
"Say my name, Hazel. Remember me."
Tears burned my eyes. "I can’t. Please—I’ve forgotten. But if you give me your power now, I’ll know. I’ll find the truth. I swear it."
Silence stretched, heavy as the graveyard around me. Then her voice came again.
"You better."
And then it began.
White hairs pushed out of my skin, spilling down like silver threads of fire. My body jolted, limbs shaking violently.
"Oh no—" I gasped, falling to my knees.
The shift was coming.
My body convulsed, legs moving independently, claws ripping through my fingertips. My bones cracked and elongated as my muscles screamed.
I slammed against the ground, then against a tree. The tree splintered, collapsing under the force. My head throbbed, skull splitting open with pressure as white fur burst out along my scalp and neck.
"This is going to hurt," my wolf said calmly from within, her voice steady while mine broke apart in screams. "But you must calm yourself. Endure it."
I nodded weakly, tears streaming as my body bent and twisted. The red gown was ripped apart at the seams, and the fabric shredded under the claws and fur. My spine snapped forward and re-formed. My jaws lengthened.
And then...Silence.
I opened my eyes, but the world looked different—sharper, brighter, pulsing with life. My senses were multiplied tenfold.
Except... I wasn’t in control anymore.
I was locked inside, like a prisoner behind glass, while she—my wolf—stood in my place.
For the first time, I felt her take complete control. Or at least for what I can remember.
"Good," her voice murmured. "Now let’s go to the High House."