The dark force pulsed beneath the surface of the world, unseen yet omnipresent. Its attention was not limited to Ember Hale or the Bloodstone Pack—it reached outward, touching covens, rogue packs, and corrupted creatures alike, whispering promises, threats, and commands.
A robed figure knelt before a twisted altar, candles flickering as if they feared the shadow itself. Dark runes carved into the stone pulsed faintly, feeding from the force that lurked beyond. The figure raised her hands, chanting in a tongue older than human memory, unaware that each word was guided, manipulated, and amplified by the entity lurking in the void.
Do not falter, the dark force whispered in her mind, soft as silk and sharp as a knife. The bloodline must be weakened. Their bonds must fray. The Awakened Curse
