Chapter 2 - The Whisper Beneath the Mountain The voice vanished.
Silence crashed over the arena.
Jason Anthony Ravencrest stood frozen, his palm still pressed against the cracked Moon Altar as the silver light leaking from its fractures slowly dimmed.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
"At last. I have found you."
The words lingered in his mind like an echo trapped inside a cave.
He looked around instinctively.
Thousands of faces stared back at him.
Some wore confusion.Others wore fear.
No one spoke.
Even the children who had mocked him moments ago clung to their parents, their eyes fixed on the shattered altar.
A sharp crack split the air.
Another piece of ancient stone broke away and crashed onto the platform.
The High Elder staggered backward.
"Move away from the altar!" he shouted.
His voice snapped the crowd out of its trance.
Pack guards rushed forward with drawn weapons, surrounding the platform in a defensive circle.Jason stepped back instinctively.
"I didn't do anything," he said.No one answered.
The captain of the guards looked at him as though he were a monster that had crawled out of a nightmare.
Above them, Alpha Magnus Blackfang slowly rose from his throne.
His towering figure commanded instant silence.
Gray streaked through his dark hair, but the pressure rolling off his body remained overwhelming.
He descended the stone steps one measured pace at a time.
Every guard lowered their head every elder stepped aside.
When he reached the altar, his piercing eyes settled on Jason."Touch it again."Jason blinked."What?"You heard me."
His voice carried no anger.That frightened Jason even more.
Slowly, he reached toward the cracked stone.
His fingertips hovered inches away.
Nothing happened.The altar remained silent.
The strange heartbeat beneath the mountain had disappeared.The Alpha narrowed his eyes.
"Again."Jason placed his hand on the stone.Cold.Empty.Nothing.
A murmur spread through the arena.
One elder exhaled in relief.
"It must have been an ancient reaction to the awakening ceremony."Another nodded quickly.
"The altar is thousands of years old. Cracks are inevitable."
Several people agreed, eager to accept the explanation.
Anything was better than believing the impossible.Only the High Elder remained pale.
His gaze never left the broken symbols etched across the altar's surface.
He had read the oldest records.
He knew those marks.They had not cracked.
They had opened.Alpha Magnus turned away.
"The ceremony is over."
His command echoed across the valley.
"Everyone return to your homes."The crowd dispersed reluctantly.
Conversations erupted the moment people left the arena.
"They say the altar rejected him so violently it broke."
"No. I heard it sensed a demon."
"My cousin swears every awakened wolf bowed its head."
Rumors multiplied with every step.
Jason heard every one of them.
He kept his eyes on the ground as he walked through the sea of whispers.No one stood beside him.No one ever did.
Halfway down the mountain path, he heard hurried footsteps behind him.Jason!"He stopped.
An elderly woman pushed through the crowd carrying a woven basket.Mara.
The baker from the western quarter.
When he was ten and too poor to buy bread, she had secretly slipped an extra loaf into his hands.She smiled sadly."You haven't eaten today."
Before he could refuse, she pressed a warm piece of sweet bread into his palm.
"For strength."
Jason looked at it in surprise.You'll get in trouble.""Perhaps."
She glanced around before lowering her voice.
"But I have lived long enough to know that frightened people often mistake miracles for curses."
For the first time that day, someone looked at him without contempt.Jason managed a faint smile."Thank you."
She patted his shoulder and disappeared into the crowd.
He stared at the bread for several moments before taking a bite.It was still warm.
The simple kindness tightened something in his chest.
Maybe the world had not completely abandoned him.
The thought barely formed before another whisper brushed against his mind.
"Go north."Jason froze.
His eyes darted across the path.Nothing.
Only villagers walking home."Go north."
The voice was softer now.Older.Patient.
He dropped the bread.His breathing quickened."No.He backed away."I'm imagining things."The whisper came again.Not through his ears.Through his soul.Come to me."
Far beyond the village, beyond the hunting grounds and the ancient forests, the northern mountain stood beneath gathering clouds.
No one entered that place.
Children grew up hearing stories about the cursed ruins hidden among its cliffs.
Hunters who ventured too close never returned.Jason swallowed hard.
He should go home.His mother would be waiting.She would worry.He turned toward the village.
Then a violent pain exploded through his chest.He collapsed onto one knee.
A pulse of silver light flashed beneath his skin before vanishing.
The agony disappeared as quickly as it came.
Only one sensation remained.A pull.
An irresistible force drawing him toward the forbidden mountain.Jason slowly lifted his head.
In the distance, hidden among the dark clouds, two enormous crimson eyes opened for a single heartbeat.Watching him.
Waiting.Then they vanished.Jason's blood ran cold.
He had the terrifying feeling that whatever had awakened beneath the mountain had been lonely for a very, very long time.
And it had no intention of letting him escape.
