Page 100 of Bitten, Marked, Obsessed

But it’s what’sblockingthe far end that stops us all cold.

Award.

It pulses like a heartbeat, like it’s breathing. A tangled mess of symbols etched in bone and obsidian, hovering mid-air. I canfeelthe curse radiating off of it—designed to gut anyone dumb enough to try pushing through.

Ridge swears. “That’s necrotech. I thought the Brood burned the last of that.”

“They did,” I say grimly. “Or we thought they did.”

One of the wolves—a wiry guy named Bran—edges forward. “We going through?”

“Not unless you want your soul turned inside out,” I mutter.

Kendall steps forward, expression unreadable. “Let me try.”

I reach out and catch her wrist. “Kendall?—”

“It’s calling me. It’sforme.”

“That’s what scares me.”

She meets my gaze. For a second, I see the fear in her too.

But then she leans closer, voice lower.

“You said you trusted me.”

I let go.

Slowly, she raises her hand. The ward hums. Low and dangerous. Like a beast waking in its den. And thenit bends.

The symbols twist like smoke, shivering toward her. Not attacking. Not resisting.Recognizing.

Her fingertips brush the air just before the ward. It collapses quietly and cleanly. Like it never existed. Silence ripples through the group.

“What the fuck…” Bran whispers.

Ridge steps back, visibly shaken. “That’snot natural.”

“She’s the Bolvi,” one of them breathes.

I turn, growling. “Shut it.”

But it’s out now. And they all know.

Kendall doesn’t flinch. She just walks through the space where the ward used to be. And we follow because what else can we do?

The corridor past the ward is wider. Smoother. Polished with time and something stranger.

We keep going until the path forks. Left smells like rot. Right smells like blood.

Kendall halts. “This way,” she says, pointing right.

But before we move there’s a whisper. Soft. Close. Fromwithinour group.

“...you should’ve turned back. She shouldn’t be here.”

I whip around.

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