Chapter 25

The hidden alcove branched off the main flood channel, its damp walls glistening in the faint light filtering through cracks above. Ethan slumped against the stone, His chest heaved from the intense skirmish with the drones, and his torn jacket clung to the wounds that were still healing. The children clustered together on the floor, their breaths shallow but steady, Sarah's small form pressed close to him, her hand resting lightly on his knee. Rhea stood at the entrance, her rune-etched rifle poised, silver-gray eyes scanning the tunnel beyond for any sign of pursuit.

"We can't linger," Rhea whispered, her voice cutting through the distant roar of water. "Richards won't stop until he's swept every inch of these channels."

Ethan nodded, his fingers brushing the scroll tucked inside his jacket. Its presence was a constant pull, a mystery he hadn't had time to unravel amid the chaos. "I need to see what this says," he said, drawing it out. The parchment was brittle, its edges curling, but the ink—lunar script and vivid illustrations—seemed alive under his touch.

Rhea glanced over, her brow furrowing. "You think it'll get us out?"

"Maybe more than that," Ethan replied, spreading it across a flat stone. The images struck him first: wolves and vampires beneath a crescent moon, a figure at the center, medallion aglow, mirroring the one around his neck. "This… it's about the Accord. And something bigger."

Rhea crouched beside him, her fingers tracing the faded script. "It's a prophecy," she said, her tone hushed. "The Chosen Alpha, born of dual bloodlines, destined to unite or shatter the balance."

Ethan's heart thudded. "That's me?"

"Possibly," Rhea said, meeting his gaze. "Your lineage, the medallion, the runes reacting to you—it fits. But prophecies aren't set. They're guides, not chains."

Before he could press further, Rhea's device chirped—a sharp, insistent alarm. She grabbed it, her face tightening. "Thermal signatures—two hundred meters out. They're closing in."

Ethan rolled the scroll, stowing it swiftly. "We're moving."

But as he stood, his wolf senses caught a sound—boots on stone, faint but growing louder. His eyes snagged on a subtle seam in the alcove wall, barely visible. The medallion pulsed, a jolt of heat against his chest. "Hold on," he said, pressing his palm to the rock. A faint glow spread, and the stone shimmered, revealing a hidden door.

Rhea's jaw dropped. "How did you—"

"The scroll," Ethan said, urgency sharpening his words. "It showed a path. This is it."

They hurried the children through, the door sealing shut behind them with a soft thud just as shadows flickered at the alcove's edge. The tunnel beyond was steep and narrow, its rough walls scraping their shoulders, but it sloped upward—toward escape. Ethan led the way, his heightened senses cutting through the dark, guiding their steps.

The path was perilous, loose stones shifting beneath their feet. One of the younger boys stumbled, a rock clattering down the incline. The noise rang out, and Ethan froze, his ears picking up the soldiers' response—shouts, the clatter of gear. They'd been detected.

"Keep going," he hissed, but the tunnel trembled as the soldiers blasted the hidden door, its ancient wards cracking under their assault.

Ethan's mind raced. They couldn't outpace the military—not with the children slowing them down. He met Rhea's eyes, her resolve mirroring his own. "Get them ahead," he said. "I'll hold them off."

"You can't take them all," she shot back.

"I won't have to," he said, his gaze flicking to the tunnel's ceiling. Faint runes glowed there, echoes of the scroll's markings. "It showed defenses, too."

He pressed the medallion to a rune, the stone groaning in response. "Go!" he urged. Rhea hesitated, then nodded, ushering the children onward.

Ethan lingered, claws lengthening as the first soldier appeared, rifle sweeping the dark. But instead of engaging, he slammed his fist into the rune. The tunnel roared, a section of the ceiling collapsing in a cascade of dust and rock, sealing the passage and muffling the soldiers' cries.

Breathless, Ethan sprinted after the group, his wounds flaring with each step. They burst from the tunnel into a dense forest, the night air sharp and cold, stars piercing the canopy overhead. The children gasped, collapsing in relief, their eyes wide with the sight of freedom.

Ethan sank against a tree, the medallion cooling against his skin. Rhea dropped beside him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. "You did it," she said, her voice soft but sure. "We're out."

"We did it," Ethan corrected, a tired smile breaking through. "Couldn't have without you."

Sarah threw her arms around him, her hug fierce. "Thank you," she murmured.

He ruffled her hair, warmth blooming in his chest. "Always, kid."

The forest stretched around them, a fragile sanctuary. Richards would regroup, and Lilith's queen still lurked in the shadows, but for now, they were free. The scroll's prophecy pressed against him, its secrets half-revealed, a destiny he couldn't yet grasp.

Rhea stepped closer, her silver eyes catching the starlight. "What's next?" she asked, her tone steady despite the weight of the question.

Ethan looked at the children, their hope a quiet fire, then back at her. "We find a safe haven. Decode this prophecy. I'm done running—I'm fighting for something now."

Her lips curved faintly. "Then we fight together."

Their hands brushed, a silent vow. With the night cloaking their path and dawn still distant, they moved deeper into the forest, the Chosen Alpha's journey just beginning.

[To be continued…]