The Whispering Cave
Cleopatra's POV
The cold air hit my face as I stood frozen before the cave’s entrance. Memories stirred violently, flickering like an old reel in the back of my mind. I had been here before—in a vision. This was similar to the cave my younger self brought me.
Lucien’s hand rested on my shoulder, pulling me from the depths of the memory. “Shadow,” he murmured, his voice low, “you must enter.”
“I... I can’t,” I whispered, my throat tight. The last time I was here—it was eerie and very strange.
“The ancestors await,” Lucien said, his voice steady, though his eyes held something darker. Was it fear? No, not fear. It was more like respect—a reverence for whatever lay within the shadows of this place.
I took a shaky step forward, my body trembling, not from the cold, but from the power I felt humming through the ground. It was as though the earth itself was alive, pulsing beneath my feet. The markings on the cave walls began to glow faintly, the symbols shifting as though they were breathing, waiting for me to cross the threshold.
Lucien said nothing as I moved deeper into the cave. The walls felt like they were closing in around me, the weight of the stone pressing on my chest. The dim light of the glowing symbols provided just enough illumination to make out the shapes ahead—twisting, spiraling inscriptions that seemed to tug at the edges of my consciousness.
As we descended deeper, the air grew thick, almost suffocating, but it wasn’t the stifling darkness that unsettled me—it was the whispers. Faint, just on the edge of my hearing. I couldn’t make out the words, but they were there, lurking in the shadows, beckoning me forward.
Lucien’s footsteps echoed softly behind me, a quiet reminder that I wasn’t alone, though his presence did little to comfort me now. I could feel it—the weight of whatever lies ahead.
Suddenly, the whispers grew louder, sharper, like a chorus of voices that had been silenced for too long, now desperate to be heard. My heart raced as I glanced around, searching for the source, but there was no one. Just shadows. Shadows and the soft glow of the symbols.
“Do you hear that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Lucien didn’t respond immediately. His eyes were focused ahead, his expression unreadable. “They are calling to you,” he said, his voice reverent, as though he, too, was feeling the weight of those ancient voices.
I swallowed hard and moved further into the cave, the whispers growing louder with every step. The air felt charged, thick with power and something else… expectation.
Then, I saw it—the stone altar. The same one from my vision. It stood in the center of the cave, ancient and worn, its surface covered in more of those strange symbols, glowing faintly in the dim light. The moment I laid eyes on it, a wave of dizziness washed over me, and the world seemed to tilt.
I stumbled forward, my knees buckling as the whispers turned into a roar inside my head.
‘Shadow… Shadow…’
They were chanting my name now, louder and louder, their voices merging into one. I fell to my knees in front of the altar, my hands trembling as I pressed them against the cold stone.
And then, suddenly, everything went silent.
The air around me stilled, and the glow of the symbols faded. I was left in complete darkness, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I knelt before the altar, waiting. Waiting for what, I didn’t know.
“Shadow,” Lucien’s voice broke the silence, but it wasn’t his usual calm tone. There was urgency in it now. “You need to—”
But before he could finish, the ground beneath me began to rumble. The stone altar vibrated under my hands, and a deep, guttural sound echoed from the depths of the cave. My heart pounded in my chest as I looked up, my eyes wide with fear.
The markings on the walls began to glow once more, but this time, they weren’t the faint, soft lights from before. They were burning, fiery, their light casting sharp, dancing shadows across the walls. The whispers returned, but they were different now—urgent. Demanding.
Lucien stepped closer, his face set with determination. “Shadow, you need to finish the ritual.”
I turned to him, confusion and panic clouding my mind. “Ritual? What ritual?”
“The one your mother started. The one only you can finish. I initiated it when I healed you but you have to complete this stage alone.”
My breath caught in my throat. My mother? She had been here, standing in this exact spot, performing some kind of ritual? But why? What was she trying to do? And why did it feel like I was about to fall into the same trap she had?
The whispers grew louder again, a mixture of voices blending into one as the ground trembled beneath me. The symbols on the altar flared brighter, and suddenly, a sharp, blinding light erupted from the center of the stone, shooting up into the air.
I gasped, stumbling back as the light expanded, filling the cave with a radiant, unnatural glow.
Lucien grabbed my arm, his grip tight. “Shadow, listen to me. This is the moment of truth. You must make a choice.”
“A choice?” I repeated, my voice shaking. “What choice?”
His eyes, sharp and serious, bore into mine. “Your mother is offering you her power. You are the only surviving white wolf of royal blood. But it comes with a price. If you accept it, you will carry the burden your mother did. If you refuse, the power will fade… but so will the last connection to your mother.”
I stared at him, my mind racing. The air buzzed with energy, and the whispers pressed in around me, waiting. Waiting for me to decide.
“What price?” I asked, my voice rising slightly.
My heart pounded in my chest. What had my mother done? And what would happen if I followed in her footsteps?
But he didn't respond.
Before I could even comprehend the magnitude of the decision in front of me, the light shifted, condensing into a single point—forming a figure. And there, standing before me, was the unmistakable silhouette of a woman.
I blinked, my breath catching in my throat. It couldn’t be…
“Mom?” I whispered, my voice trembling.
The figure stepped forward, her face slowly coming into focus.
And she wasn’t alone.
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