Chapter 15 – The Blood Pact

The Descent into Darkness

The tunnels beneath Silvercrest Academy were ancient—built long before the school itself, carved into the very bones of the earth. Faintly glowing runes lined the walls, pulsating with old magic.

Ronan moved swiftly through the shadows, his heartbeat steady.

Selene was at his right, daggers in hand.

Kael walked behind them, his steps soundless, eyes gleaming silver in the dim light.

And beside Ronan, keeping pace with effortless grace—was Astrid.

She hadn't said much since they entered the tunnels. Her golden eyes flicked between the darkness ahead and Ronan's profile, as if waiting for something.

But Ronan hadn't looked at her.

Not once.

Because if he did, he might remember what she meant to him.

And right now, he couldn't afford to be distracted.

Not when Darius was waiting below.

Not when a blood pact was about to be made.

Not when war was brewing in the dark.

Deep in the catacombs, beneath the academy's surface, Darius Graves stood before a throne of black stone.

The room was lit by torches that burned with eerie blue fire. Shadows flickered across the rough walls, dancing like specters waiting for blood.

Across from him, standing in the center of an elaborate ritual circle, was Lord Varik.

A vampire of the Eastern Blood Clans.

Tall, lean, and wrapped in a cloak of midnight silk, Varik's crimson eyes gleamed with hunger and amusement.

Darius didn't move as the vampire studied him, a slow smirk curling his lips.

"You've grown bold, young wolf," Varik murmured. His voice was velvet, smooth and dangerous. "Seeking the power of my kind. You do realize what a blood pact entails?"

Darius's golden eyes burned.

"I don't make deals I don't understand."

Varik tilted his head. "Oh? Then you know that once we sign this pact, you will be bound to my clan—our power, our laws."

Darius smirked. "And in return, your clan gets my protection. The academy's resources. My wolves as allies."

Varik chuckled. "A tempting offer. And one I am inclined to accept."

The vampire lifted his wrist, revealing a silver dagger etched with runes.

"A drop of blood from each of us," he said. "The pact will be sealed."

Darius reached for the blade.

And then—

The torches flickered.

The shadows in the room shifted.

And a voice cut through the silence like a blade.

"That's not happening."

Darius froze.

Because he knew that voice.

They all did.

Slowly, he turned—

And standing at the mouth of the chamber, eyes glowing silver in the dim firelight, was Ronan Blackwood.

...

For a moment, no one moved.

Ronan stood tall, flanked by Selene, Kael, and Astrid.

His presence filled the chamber like a storm waiting to break.

Varik's amused smirk widened. "Ah. Now this is interesting."

Darius's jaw tightened. "You're either brave or suicidal, coming here alone."

Kael chuckled, stepping forward. "Alone? You wound me, Graves."

Selene's grip on her daggers tightened. "Step away from the circle, Darius."

Darius didn't move. His golden eyes locked onto Ronan's.

"You should've stayed dead," he said softly.

Ronan smiled. But there was nothing warm about it.

"You should've killed me properly."

Darius exhaled sharply, then turned to Varik. "Excuse me for a moment."

The vampire lord stepped back, amusement flickering in his red eyes. "Take your time. I do enjoy watching wolves tear each other apart."

Darius took a slow step forward. His muscles coiled, his body thrumming with power.

Ronan mirrored him.

The air between them grew taut.

Two wolves.

Two leaders.

One throne.

One of them wasn't walking away tonight.

...

Darius moved first.

He lunged, his claws glowing with golden energy, his speed blinding.

Ronan met him head-on.

Their collision shook the chamber, a violent clash of raw strength and power.

Darius swiped at Ronan's throat—but Ronan ducked, twisting with inhuman speed, slamming an elbow into Darius's ribs.

The traitor staggered, but only for a second.

Then he retaliated—spinning low, sweeping Ronan's legs out from under him.

Ronan hit the ground, rolling to his feet just as Darius attacked again.

Their fists met midair. A shockwave burst from the impact, sending cracks through the stone beneath them.

Darius growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You don't belong here anymore."

Ronan bared his teeth. "Then come and take my place."

Darius snarled, shifting.

And in the blink of an eye—he was no longer a man, but a beast.

His wolf form was massive, fur the color of obsidian, eyes burning with golden fire.

The room trembled under the weight of his power.

Varik chuckled. "Ah. A proper show."

Kael sighed. "And here I was hoping we could just talk this out."

Selene tensed. "Ronan—"

But Ronan wasn't listening.

He was already shifting.

Silver light engulfed him, his body stretching, his bones snapping and reforming.

And when it faded—

He wasn't a wolf.

Not entirely.

Ronan stood on two feet, his body wrapped in black and silver fur, his hands still clawed like a man, his fangs sharper than any werewolf's.

His silver eyes burned with something ancient.

Darius's wolf hesitated.

And for the first time—

Ronan saw fear in his traitor's eyes.

...

The battle raged. Claws clashed, teeth snapped, blood splattered across the stone floor.

Selene and Kael kept the vampire guards at bay, their movements swift and deadly.

Astrid stood frozen at the edge of the fight, watching.

She had known Darius for years. Fought alongside him. Trusted him.

And yet—

Watching him now, seeing the way he feared Ronan, the way Ronan's power overshadowed everything—

She realized something.

She had chosen the wrong alpha.

Darius had taken Silvercrest. Taken the pack. Taken power.

But Ronan…

Ronan was becoming something more.

Something unstoppable.

Astrid's hand tightened around her blade.

Then—

She made her choice.

And when she moved—

It wasn't toward Darius.

It was toward Ronan's side.