Hades
My pulse spiked as the magnified image began to move.
"This is the cell of a normal Lycan. Right now, it is in its active state—acting as a normal cell should, multiplying and performing other functions. But when exposed to an extre electromagnetic force identical to that of a Blood Moon..."
Suddenly, the cell began to react violently, mutating.
The cell writhed on the screen, twisting into sothing grotesque. I watched in silence as Dr. Cohen's finger traced along the monitor, highlighting every shift, every mutation.
"Watch carefully," he murmured, his voice tinged with unease.
The simulated pulse of the Blood Moon's electromagnetic force surged across the display. The Lycan cell responded instantly—its mbrane thickened, dark veins crackled along its surface, and the nucleus fractured, splitting into erratic, unstable offshoots.
The thing on the screen wasn't alive. It was a disaster in motion.
"This is the catalyst for the Lunar Cataclysm," Cohen explained, his tone grave. "When exposed to the Blood Moon, Lycan cells undergo uncontrollable mutation. Regeneration becos excessive and unstable, causing partial, grotesque shifts. Cognitive function breaks down. They lose themselves to rage and madness."
I didn't respond. I didn't need to. My mind was already racing ahead, weighing every detail, every angle. I knew all this before.
"And Ellen?" I asked, sharp.
Cohen's lips twitched in sothing close to excitent. "That's where it gets interesting."
He tapped the screen, pulling up a second sample—labeled Subject E-001.
"Ellen's blood," he said quietly.
Again, the Blood Moon simulation rippled across the screen. But this ti, nothing happened. The cell remained perfectly still. Untouched.
I stared, not trusting what I was seeing.
Shield or Sword.
"It doesn't react," Cohen said, his voice barely above a whisper. "No mutation. No degeneration. Her cells are completely resistant to the electromagnetic force that cripples every other Lycan."
My fingers curled into fists at my sides. This wasn't possible. Yet the evidence was right in front of . A part of believed in the prophecy but another remained pragmatic. But this...was everything hypothesized.
"And yet," I said slowly, "you look unsettled."
Cohen hesitated, his confidence slipping. "Because it's incomplete."
My eyes narrowed.
"The anomaly in her blood is only partially developed. It's shielding her, yes, but the protection isn't absolute. It's inconsistent. Right now, it might prevent the physical mutations, but not the neurological breakdown—the madness."
Of course. Nothing was ever simple. Yet, I still dared to hope.
"What's stopping it from completing?" I asked, though I already knew.
"The hollowing," Cohen replied imdiately. "When Ellen's wolf was stripped away, it interrupted the natural developnt of this anomaly. It's as if her body was building a defense, but the process was violently cut short. Now it's dormant. Half-ford. But…"
"But if we awaken her wolf," I finished for him, voice low, "it will complete itself."
Cohen nodded. "Exactly. If her wolf returns, the anomaly should fully mature, granting complete immunity. Not just for her physical form but for her mind as well."
My jaw tightened.
If that anomaly fully awakened, Ellen wouldn't just survive the Lunar Cataclysm—she would be immune. Untouchable. A perfect weapon in a war no one else could fight.
And that weapon would be mine to wield.
But it hinged on one thing. Her wolf.
"And if we fail?" I asked, knowing the answer but needing to hear it aloud.
Cohen's face darkened. "Then her body will finish adapting to life without her wolf. The anomaly will stay incomplete. When the Blood Moon rises, her mind will fracture. She'll descend into madness. And she'll be of no use to anyone."
No use to .
I stared at the flickering screen, at that perfect, unmoving cell. So close to perfection, yet teetering on the edge of collapse.
There was only one path forward.
She had to awaken her wolf.
The lie Lia fed her—the fear, the need to find her mate—it was all falling into place. Ellen believed finding him would save her. And maybe, for once, that wasn't entirely a lie.
But the thought of her bonding with another man, another Alpha, clawed at sothing primal inside . It wasn't just strategy. It wasn't just power.
It was possession.
What was mine was mine.
The idea of another male's hands on her, of their bond snapping into place, made my skin crawl. But for this? For the power it would bring ?
I would allow it. I had already.
I would force it, if I had to.
"Keep monitoring the anomaly," I ordered, my voice as cold as ice. "Report every change, no matter how small."
"Of course, Your Majesty."
I turned away from the screen, already forming the next move in this ga.
My gaze shifted to the other monitors. "I ordered the infiltration of the LSI database for cities in Silverpine. They should have cross-referenced it with Ellen's sample by now. Has there been any luck finding a probable mate?"
Cohen's face tightened, his excitent fading under the weight of my question. His hand hovered over the console for a brief mont before he sighed and began pulling up another set of data on the adjacent screen.
"We've completed the infiltration of the LSI database as you ordered," he said, his voice clipped and professional. "Silverpine's records were cross-referenced against Ellen's genetic markers, focusing on any potential mate bonds that could trigger her wolf's awakening."
I waited, eyes narrowing as endless rows of data scrolled across the monitor.
"And?" My voice was like a blade—sharp and demanding.
Cohen swallowed hard. "Nothing. Not a single viable match."
The words sank into like a stone in water. The lab was silent except for the hum of machines, the steady beep of heart monitors, and the faint whir of automated analysis systems running in the background. All this cutting-edge technology, this empire of science at my disposal, and yet it couldn't give the answer I needed.
"No match?" I repeated slowly, tasting the words as if they were poison. "After all of this?"
"The results are conclusive," Cohen confird, glancing at the screen as if hoping sothing had changed. "Even after bypassing LSI security and cross-referencing every registered werewolf in Silverpine and beyond, there's no genetic bond compatible with Ellen. Not in their records, at least."
My jaw tensed. Of course, it wouldn't be easy. Nothing about Ellen ever was.
"So what are you telling , Cohen? That there is no mate?" I asked, my tone a low growl.
Cohen shook his head. "Not necessarily. Only that the mate isn't in the existing databases. They could be unregistered, rogue, or dead. Without more leads, we're working blind."
Useless. All of it.
I turned my gaze to the sprawling lab around . The Obsidian Tower's top-floor laboratory was the most advanced facility of its kind—walls of reinforced glass, shelves of genetic samples ticulously labeled, machines worth more than entire cities. Every inch of this place was designed to strip away secrets, to make the impossible possible.
And yet, here we were. Struggling against fate like primitive beasts.
Cohen hesitated before speaking again. "But there's sothing else."
I glanced back at him, my patience thinning. "Speak."
"We've given the anomaly in Ellen's blood a designation," he said, his voice steady but carrying the weight of what he was about to say. "We're calling it Fenrir's Marker."
Silence. Cold and heavy.
Fenrir. The na settled in the room like ash.
"You're certain?" My voice was quieter now but no less lethal.
Cohen nodded slowly. "The structure of the anomaly bears similarities to ancient genetic imprints, ones we've only theorized about in history. The resilience, the dormant state, and most notably, the way it interacts with the Blood Moon's energy... it's unlike anything we've recorded. If the legends are to be believed, this could very well be a fragnt of Fenrir's own bloodline—or at least sothing derived from it."
Fenrir was a myth. Ellen was a paradox. It was fitting.
Dr. Cohen moved silently to a reinforced containnt unit at the far end of the lab. The biotric scanner blinked as it read his palm, unlocking with a soft hiss of pressurized air. Inside, resting on a sterile platform under thick glass, was a vial—small, unassuming, yet impossibly significant.
"Your Majesty," Cohen said, his tone a blend of reverence and unease, "this is the isolated sample of the anomaly. Fenrir's Marker."
I stepped forward slowly, my boots echoing against the polished floor. The vial was pristine, its contents swirling faintly under the sterile glow of the containnt lights. The liquid inside was nearly clear but tinged faintly pink, a delicate wash of color bleeding from whatever compounds they'd used to separate it from Ellen's blood. But it wasn't just blood. No, this was sothing else. Sothing older.
Sothing powerful.
I reached out, fingers curling around the cool glass.
The mont I touched it, sothing tightened in my chest.
It was deceptively light in my hand, but the weight it carried was undeniable. I turned the vial slowly, watching the liquid shimr, almost as if it responded to movent.
"This is it?" I murmured, more to myself than Cohen.
"Yes. We isolated it a few hours ago," Cohen answered carefully. "It was dormant, but now that it's been separated, it seems more... reactive."
I studied the liquid closely, transfixed.
Reactive.
There was a subtle hum beneath my fingertips. Not physical, but sothing I could feel—an ancient, low thrum of energy. Like it was alive.
Fenrir's blood.
Or at least sothing born from it.
And it was inside Ellen.
My grip on the vial tightened.
And it belonged to her.
Ellen.
I could feel my mind shifting, calculations stacking on top of one another.
If this fragnt could be isolated, could it be replicated? Controlled?
Could I harness it without her?
No.
Not yet.
The anomaly was incomplete. Cohen said as much. Without her wolf, this fragnt was nothing more than dormant power.
But if she awakened—if the Marker fully matured—then this… this would be unstoppable.
And so would she.
"When did you say it was isolated?" I asked again, my voice low.
"Three hours ago," Cohen replied, watching carefully. "We used a bio-synthetic reagent to separate the anomaly from her blood. It wasn't easy—the Marker resisted the process. It behaved like a living entity, adapting to whatever we used. But we managed."
"Three hours," I repeated under my breath.
I could almost imagine it. Ellen, unaware that sothing ancient and lethal was coursing through her veins, adapting to her, waiting to be awakened.
And here I was, holding its heart.
My eyes stayed locked on the liquid, and slowly, a cold smile pulled at the corner of my mouth.
"You said it was reactive. How so?" I asked, lifting the vial slightly, letting the light catch on its surface.
Cohen hesitated. "It reacts to shifts in temperature, movent, even sound. Almost like it's... listening. Waiting for sothing."
Listening.
Waiting.
The possibilities unfolded before .
"This Marker isn't just dormant," I murmured, eyes narrowing. "It's alive."
A beat of silence stretched thin in the room.
Cohen swallowed but said nothing.
I turned the vial once more, watching it swirl, considering the weight of what I held.
Then I heard it.
An almost imperceptible crack.
My head snapped up, zeroing in on a containnt chamber at the far left of the lab.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
The containnt chamber held black... blood.
Cohen followed my gaze, paling. "Your Majesty, that is the blood we collected from you during your last Flux."
"I know," I murmured. I recognized the corruption.
Crack.
"How secure is that?" I asked, eyeing the black, viscous liquid swirling in the glass.
"Very..." Cohen trailed off, uncertainty creeping into his voice.
CRASH.
Suddenly, it shattered with a horrifying crack, glass exploding outward as the thick, black blood poured free.
But it didn't spread.
It rose.
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