CHAPTER 82: THE CURSED PEAKS

Chapter 82: The Cursed Peaks

The blood moon cast eerie shadows as Liana watched the last of the pack members fade into the forest. Their eyes glowed red, their faces blank with strange calm.

"We can’t save them if we’re dead," she said, turning away from the window. "We leave now." Kael grabbed his sword, feeling its weight. Without his Alpha strength, everything felt heavy.

"Six of us against an army of ghost wolves and mind-controlled pack members. Great odds." "Seven," Marcus stepped through the door, his face grim.

"You’ll need someone who knows the Cursed Peaks." Liana’s eyes narrowed. "Since when do you help us?"

"Since I realized my political games won’t matter if we’re all dead." Marcus shouldered his pack. "The Peaks aren’t just dangerous because of the environment.

They mess with your head, make you see things that aren’t there." "Or maybe they show you things that are," Celeste said quietly, her chains now replaced with silver cuffs that stopped her magic.

"The mountains remember every failure, every lost dream. They feed on sadness." Talia clutched her spell book tighter. "Wonderful. A place that actually wants to make us give up." "Then we don’t give it the chance," Jace said, checking his knife.

Even without his speed, his hands moved with deadly accuracy. "We get in, stop Lyra, get out." Rowan touched his head, wincing. "The whispers are getting louder. Whatever’s in those mountains, it’s calling to the darkness in all of us." They slipped out through the servant’s entrance, moving like ghosts through the empty house.

The night air tasted of copper and fear. The trip to the Cursed Peaks took them through three different territories. Each one was emptier than the last, pack members drawn away by the blood moon’s call.

On the second day, they reached the foothills. The very air seemed thicker here, pushing down on their shoulders like invisible hands.

"Does anyone else feel that?" Talia whispered. "Like something’s sucking the hope right out of you?" Kael nodded grimly. "It’s the mountain’s gift. Despair so thick you can taste it." Marcus pointed to a narrow trail winding up the rocky hill.

"That’s our way. Stay close, don’t trust what you see, and whatever you do, don’t listen to the whispers." "What voices?" Jace asked. His answer came as a whisper on the wind.

You’re not strong enough. You never were. Why do you even try? Jace tripped, his face going pale. "I heard... my father. Telling me I was a failure." "It’s not real," Liana grabbed his arm.

"The mountain feeds on old wounds. Don’t give it power." They climbed higher, the trail becoming dangerous. Loose rocks moved under their feet, and the air grew so thin that breathing became work. That’s when the ghosts appeared.

The first one appeared near a cliff edge - a massive wolf with silver fur and hollow eyes. It stared at them with endless sadness before fading away. "Failed Alpha," Marcus said. "They come here to die when they lose their packs.

Their spirits never leave." More ghosts emerged from the rocks. Dozens of them, all wolves who had once been masters. They circled the group, not charging, just... watching. Join us, they seemed to say. Rest. No more fights. No more pain. Rowan dropped to his knees, stunned.

"Their feelings... so much grief. They all lost everything they loved." Celeste knelt beside him, her voice surprisingly gentle. "Feel it, but don’t accept it. You’re not them. You still have something to fight for."

That night, they made camp in a cave. The spectral wolves followed them, settling around the door like guard dogs.

"They’re not trying to hurt us," Rowan said, his voice faraway. "They’re trying to tell us. Something’s coming." Liana took first watch, looking out at the ghostly pack.

One of them, a she-wolf with kind eyes, approached slowly. The ghost opened its mouth, and Liana heard words that chilled her blood: The witch knows you’re here. She’s been watching since you left home. "How long has she known?" Liana whispered.

Since the moment you chose to come. This mountain shows her everything. The ghost wolf’s form started to fade. She’s not just collecting power. She’s collecting lives.

Everyone who dies here becomes part of her army. Dawn brought no comfort. The blood moon hung in the sky like a wound that wouldn’t heal, breaking natural law. As they climbed toward the peak, the whispers grew louder.

Each member of the group faced their own problems. Kael heard his father calling him weak. Jace saw visions of Liana picking his brothers over him. Talia relived every moment she’d felt helpless.

But Rowan’s empathic skills, though weakened, helped them push through. He could feel when someone was about to break and guide them back to reality.

"Pain shared is pain halved," he said, helping Celeste when she nearly walked off a cliff, lost in memories of her own mistakes. By afternoon, they hit a plateau where the air shimmered with unnatural heat. Below them, a camp spread across the mountainside.

Lyra’s camp. Hundreds of tents circled a massive black stone circle. Shadow wolves prowled between them, and at the middle stood the witch herself. She was no longer the beautiful woman who had once been Beta.

Her skin was pale as moonlight, her hair white as bone. Dark veins pulsed under her skin, and her eyes were pools of liquid night. "There," Marcus pointed to a tent near the stone circle. "That’s where she’d keep the Heart of Shadows." "It’s too easy," Liana said, studying the plan.

"She has to know we’re here." Jace nodded toward the camp. "Look at the guard lines. They’re moving us toward specific entry points." "A trap," Kael concluded. "But we’re walking into it anyway."

"Because we have to," Liana squared her shoulders. "If she gets that item, everyone dies. At least this way, we have a chance." They began their descent toward the camp, following a path that seemed almost planned for them. Too handy. Too perfect.

That’s when Rowan grabbed Liana’s arm, his eyes wide with fear. "She’s not just expecting us," he whispered. "She’s been planning this since before we left.

The whole thing - the blood moon, the pack members going away, even our decision to come here." "What do you mean?" "I can feel it now. Every choice we made, every step we took... we’re not the stars in this story." His voice broke. "We’re the sacrifice." A slow clap echoed across the hillside.

Lyra stood at the edge of her camp, smiling like a mother meeting her children. "Welcome, little wolves," her voice carried on the wind. "I’ve been waiting so long for you to arrive."

Around them, the spectral wolves began to howl - not in warning, but in grief. They were too late. The trap had already closed.