BloodMoon: Captivated by the Forbidden Lycan Alpha
Chapter 282: THE HEARTSPRING

Chapter 282: THE HEARTSPRING

{"Magic sprints are the driving force of all nature."}

The moment Gerod’s voice faded from our minds and the ground trembled beneath the weight of the tide, I moved faster than wind, faster than thought. Tor barely had time to react before I seized his arm and launched us forward, my vampire speed blurring the world around us into streaks of green and mist. Trees whipped past. Rocks blurred beneath my boots. The scent of salt and storm clung to my skin as I surged across Hanka Island toward the one place we could not afford to lose.

The Haven Chamber, Gerod’s last sanctuary. We reached the cliffs, and I did not stop. My body moved on instinct, guided by something deeper than sight or memory. The magic called me pulled me through the hidden pass of woven roots and stone. I ducked beneath the arching vines and slid into the narrow crevice between the cliffs, Tor following close behind, breath harsh but steady.

And then a chamber opened before us, carved deep into the heart of the mountain, a wide basin of ancient power veiled in swirling clouds. The scent of dragon fire was thick, and the walls shimmered with old runes etched in glowing lines, blue, gold, crimson, alive with warning.

I stepped in, heart racing, eyes scanning for the one thing that should have been here.

The sacred pool and the Heart Spring of Hanka were completely gone. The centre of the chamber where the silver-blue waters once glowed with life was now a hollow depression cracked, cold, empty. A wound in the world. I could feel the absence like a scream. The silence it left behind was deafening.

"Gerod..." Tor whispered beside me.

I turned in a slow circle. No wings in the shadowed heights. No glow of dragon eyes watching from the stone. No rumble. No breath. No presence.

"He’s gone," I murmured, my voice tight.

"Or worse," Tor said. "He’s fading."

We stood there, warriors in a forgotten temple, staring at the remnants of a sanctuary meant to outlast time itself.

I did not expect it, nor did of us.

One moment the chamber was hollow, a memory of what once was... and the next, the air around us thickened, vibrating with an ancient pulse. Tor and I both stumbled back as the ground beneath our feet shimmered like rippling water, and magic, pure, untamed, ancient rose in a blinding surge. Then, without warning, the hollow crater where the sacred pool had vanished filled with light. And then water rose, crystal-clear and glowing, swirling with the colours of old power. The Heart Spring had returned, not gently, but with authority like a god slamming a staff into the ground. It pulsed once, then twice, and suddenly the entire chamber was alive again, the runes on the walls flaring with renewed brilliance.

I turned to Tor, breath catching. "It’s back..."

Gerod appeared, massive, regal, and terrifying. He landed in a roar of wind and wings, his obsidian and silver-scaled body filling the sanctuary like a living mountain. Eyes like burning stars locked onto us. Power radiated from every inch of hi,m and fury.

"You’re late," he growled, voice both thunder and fire. "And you bring the scent of the tide."

Tor and I instinctively bowed, chests heaving with a mixture of awe and guilt. I had never seen him like this. Not fully formed. Not in all his divine glory. Gerod’s tail lashed once as he advanced, wings folding in, and his eyes narrowed. "Ashanai is already on the island. She stirs the tide. You have felt it."

We nodded, shame burning low in our guts. "I brought you here because the spring is no longer safe on its own," Gerod rumbled. "The magic alone cannot hold her. It needs Guardians."

His great claw swept forward, and suddenly I felt the spring’s magic rise again, but this time it was not surrounding us it was entering us. It hit my chest like fire and ice, rushing through my veins like a second heartbeat. I gasped, knees nearly buckling, but I did not fight it. I let it in. The essence of Hanka, of the dragon’s protection, of balance it became part of me. Part of us.

Tor cried out beside me as he, too, was filled with it, and then Gerod exhaled, steam curling from his nostrils as he stepped back. "You are now bound to this Sanctuary. You carry its breath in your bones. You will not leave it."

"But the fight—" I began.

"This is the fight, Freyr Kayne." His eyes narrowed into slits of molten gold. "If she reaches the spring... everything falls. Guard it with your lives. With your soul. Do you understand me?"

Tor and I looked at each other, and we turned to him and nodded in unison.

"Ye,s" I said, voice low but steady. "We’ll guard it until our last breath."

Gerod let out a satisfied rumble, then turned toward the pool, curling around it like a serpent guarding the flame of the world,d and then disappeared.

The silence in the Haven was maddening. Tor and I stood near the sacred spring, every muscle coiled, listening. Not just with ears but with instinct, with power. The echo of battle filtered faintly from above... muffled cries, snarls, the unmistakable clash of magic. But it was distant. Too distant.

And then the ground shook. A quake, violent and guttural, the kind that made the bones in your legs feel like they might snap. Tor staggered into me, and I caught his arm, bracing myself as the entire sanctuary trembled like a leaf in a storm.

"Hold on!" I barked and my voice gritted with strain. We gripped the carved stone of the wall, backs pressed together instinctively. The roar that followed sounded like a beast being torn from the earth’s belly. But the walls held. The Haven did not crack. Not a stone fell from the arched ceiling. The ancient magic kept it whole. I felt it first as a coldness on my skin, the kind that slides along your spine and whispers in a voice you cannot hear, but your soul understands.

Tor straightened beside me, his golden eyes narrowing as the light in the sanctuary dimmed just slightly.

"She’s here," I muttered, jaw tightening. "She’s broken through the island’s wards."

"I feel it," Tor whispered, voice hushed. "The darkness... It’s crawling across Hanka like a sickness."

The pool shimmered uneasily, glowing with a weaker light. Even the runes on the walls pulsed slower, like a heartbeat struggling to keep rhythm.

We stood there in silence, breathing in the suffocating air, and then Tor whispered what I had been too afraid to say aloud. "I hope Rou and Commander Elle are okay."

I nodded, swallowing hard, heart thudding like a war drum. "They’re strong," I said, more for myself than him. "If anyone can hold their own against this tide... It’s them."

But even as the words left my mouth, the fear sank deeper.

For hours, we stood guard in the heart of Hanka Island, the Haven Sanctuary, surrounded by stone carved in ancient tongues and wards older than any of us. Time passed in tense, breathless stillness. The chaos outside had dulled into a distant hum, and now... it was gone.

All of it, not a scream, nor a roar, nor the crackle of fire, nor the clash of claws. Just... silence.

The kind that pressed in on your chest, thick and unnatural. I lowered my stance and slowly sat down on the smooth cave floor, my body aching with stillness and unease. Tor moved beside me, his posture tense but his expression unreadable. I did not need to ask. I knew the knot in his gut mirrored mine.

We had fought enemies before. Seen entire battlefields drenched in chaos. But this silence was worse. Tor finally sat beside me, and without a word, I reached out and pulled him close. His body was warm, grounding. I felt his fingers curl into my tunic like he did not even realize he had done it. A quiet act of fear. I let my chin rest lightly against his shoulder, my eyes fixed on the runes carved into the stone walls. They pulsed faintly. Still alive. Still watching. But even the spring’s magic felt... subdued.

"I don’t like this," I murmured.

Tor nodded slowly. "Me neither."

Still no sign of Gerod and we had no way of knowing if Rou and Elle were still alive. If they had driven back the darkness. If anyone had.

"Maybe... they’ve won," Tor said, voice low but strained.

"Or maybe it’s just the eye of the storm," I replied, bitterly honest. "And we’re about to drown in what comes next."

I held him tighter. The heat of his body reminded me that we were still here.

It was as if the chamber heard us, and just as Tor leaned against me, the air around us thickened like the cave itself took a breath. A sudden hum pulsed through the stone beneath us, and the runes etched into the walls flared softly with a pale golden light.

I shot upright, instinct thrumming, and Tor tensed beside me. "Freyr...?"

Before I could answer, the centre of the chamber shifted, light bending, mist swirling, and then a vision rose, hovering above the ground like a memory brought to life. We both stood quickly, our gazes locked on the scene unfurling in front of us.

The beach came to view, and the tides were raging, churning with an unnatural fury that boiled and frothed like the sea was alive and angry. Rou, in full Rogourau form, was a dark, monstrous blur in the chaos. Beside him, Elle moved with the precision of a commander, her sword a streak of silver light, her eyes fierce, unrelenting. The creatures, which rose from the water, were shaped like smaller Rogourau beasts but wrong distorted and howling. One lunged at Rou, and he met it with teeth and fury, his beast roaring as he tore it apart.

Tor whispered, "They’re holding the line..."

I nodded, unable to speak, then Gerod rose from the ocean like a deity awakened. His roar split the air in the vision, shaking even the memory. Tides responded to him, swelling and crashing with divine rage. Water turned to light, light turned to force, and the creatures crumbled, one by one, drowned in the storm Gerod summoned.

I exhaled sharply, the tension in my chest easing for the first time in hours.

"They’re alive," Tor said, a quiet tremor in his voice. "They’re winning."

I reached for his hand. "And we’re not alone in this."

As the vision faded, the chamber settled. The runes dimmed, the mist returned, and silence fell again, but this time, it felt different.