She tried to answer, tried to explain, but the words wouldn't come. The link between her and the rune was complete now, unbreakable, and she could feel it pulling at something deep in her chest. Her magic, her life force, her very sense of self—all of it flowing into the ancient stone and the sleeping entity beneath.
Strong arms wrapped around her waist, hauling her backward. The moment Cade touched her, though, everything changed.
His wolf's power slammed into the connection like a dam breaking. Suddenly she could breathe again, think again, exist as something more than just a conduit for ancient magic. Theburning in her palm subsided to a manageable ache, and the world stopped spinning quite so violently.
But Cade wasn't unaffected by the contact.
At the first spark of contact between them, Lyra felt his wolf surge to the surface with an intensity that made her earlier magical explosion look like a gentle breeze. Power radiated from him in waves that made the cellar walls vibrate, and she could feel his human control slipping away like water through her fingers.
"Cade," she gasped, still clinging to his arms. "You need to let go."
"Can't," he growled, his voice deeper than it had been upstairs, rougher. "The connection—I can feel what you're feeling. What you're bound to."
His eyes were pure gold now, no trace of green left in them. When he spoke, she could see fangs that definitely hadn't been there a moment ago. "The thing under the rune. It's aware of you now. Aware and interested."
Lyra shivered at the hunger she'd sensed in the vision, the patient malevolence that had been waiting beneath the inn for so long. "How bad is 'interested'?"
"Bad enough that you're not staying here alone tonight," Cade said, then seemed to realize what he'd just said. His grip on her loosened slightly, though he didn't let go completely. "I mean?—"
"You mean you're going into full alpha protection mode," Lyra finished, surprised by how unsurprised she was by the prospect. Something about being in his arms felt right in a way that should have been alarming but somehow wasn't.
"Something like that." Cade's voice was still rough, but some of the wildness had faded from his eyes. "Can you stand?"
"I think so." Lyra tested her legs, grateful when they held her weight. The silvery marks on her palm and wrist had stoppedspreading, settling into an intricate pattern that looked almost like circuitry. "The rune—it's different now."
They both looked down at the obsidian stone. The crack was still there, but it no longer looked like damage. Instead, it seemed purposeful, like a door that had been opened just a crack. Light leaked through the fissure—not the harsh white light from before, but something softer and more complex, like moonlight filtered through water.
"It's claimed you," Cade said, his voice carefully neutral. "I can smell it on your magic."
"Claimed me how?"
Before Cade could answer, footsteps echoed on the stairs again. Nico appeared in the cellar doorway, took one look at the scene, and sighed dramatically.
"Well," he said, settling onto the bottom step with practiced ease. "I see we've moved past the 'look but don't touch' phase of supernatural crisis management."
"She's marked," Cade said without preamble. "The rune's bound to her now."
"I can see that." Nico's pale eyes studied the patterns on Lyra's palm with professional interest. "Quite elegantly done, actually. Much more sophisticated than the usual founder's mark."
"The usual founder's mark?" Lyra held up her hand, staring at the silvery traceries. "This happens to other people?"
"Not for about two hundred years," Nico said cheerfully. "But theoretically, yes. Each founder bloodline carries the potential for bonding with their ancestral rune. Most people never get close enough to trigger it, and those who do usually have the good sense not to touch ancient magical artifacts with their bare hands."
"So what does this mean?" Lyra gestured at her marked palm. "Am I stuck here now? Magically bound to the inn forever?"
"Not exactly." Nico rose from the step and moved closer to examine the rune itself. "The mark creates a connection, not a leash. You're tied to the rune's purpose now, which means you're tied to keeping the seal strong."
"What seal?"
"The one that's been keeping something very old and very hungry locked beneath this inn for the past two centuries," Nico said matter-of-factly. "The same something that's been stirring ever since you first touched the rune."
Dread washed the color from her face. "Please tell me you're joking."
"I'm afraid not." Nico's expression turned serious. "The founders didn't just build a town here, Lyra. They built a prison. And you've just volunteered to be one of its wardens."
"Volunteered?" Lyra's voice rose an octave. "I didn't volunteer for anything! I just touched a stone!"
"An ancient magical artifact that your bloodline was specifically designed to interface with," Nico corrected gently. "The choice was made the moment you inherited founder blood. Touching the rune just... activated your inheritance."
