The wall didn't break.
It shattered.
Ice and stone exploded outward in a thunderous roar as I tore through it, claws extended, frost trailing behind me in a web of jagged veins. Cold wind followed my entrance like a living thing, curling around my limbs as I hit the ground hard enough to crack the floor beneath me.
Move. Kill. Claim!
Dozens of heads snapped in my direction. Pale eyes. Shimmering fur. Their growls rose as one, echoing off the stone like a chorus of hunger and fear. But mine was louder.
They are prey.
The second heartbeat thundered beneath my ribs—hot, insistent. It beat in perfect time with my own now. No hesitation. No dissonance. Just rhythm. Just fire.
The first of them lunged.
I met it halfway.
Claws tore through sinew and bone. A twist, a snap, a gurgle. Another pounced—I didn't dodge. I slammed into it, teeth bared, elbow cracking through its jaw. Blood sprayed across my cheek, warm against the cold.
More.
They swarmed.
Good.
Let them.
The chamber burst into motion. Bodies closed in from every side—snapping, snarling, howling. I moved through them like a blade through snow. My tail whipped behind me, knocking three into the wall. Another leapt from above—I caught it midair and crushed its spine in a single, brutal twist.
Frost danced along the ground where I stepped. It climbed walls, curled around broken pillars, slowed their steps just enough to give me the edge. Not a breath weapon. Not a spell.
Me.
I spun, carving through two at once. The heat in my chest pulsed outward, magic riding my limbs like a second skin. I could feel it—threading through bone and sinew, turning thought into movement. No resistance. No fear.
This is what I was made for.
A pup lunged, smaller than the others. I caught it by the throat before it could sink its fangs into my calf.
It writhed. Clawed.
I squeezed.
A crack.
Still.
I dropped it.
More came. Too many to count.
I felt my pupils change, my vision sharpen. Good.
They tried to encircle me, using numbers, angles, elevation. It didn't matter. I turned with the motion, a blur of limbs and magic. My claws tore through fur and flesh, my tail smashed ribs and skulls alike. One creature tried to crawl beneath me—I stomped, and it didn't move again.
I can feel it.
The frost singing through my blood. The magic in my limbs.The second heartbeat—hers—beating with mine. Stronger. Louder.
I ducked a swipe, spun low, and swept the legs from a lunging beast. Before it hit the ground, I was already moving. Already hunting.
Faster.
I hit a wall, leapt off it, twisted in midair, came down on a cluster of them with both feet. The ground cracked. Bones snapped. Their shrieks blurred into static. Blood hit my face and steamed in the cold. My mouth opened, breath heaving—and I could taste the iron.
And I liked it.
The last body crumpled beneath me, twitching once before falling still.
Then—silence.
No growls.
No snarls.
Only the sound of my breathing, ragged and steady, echoing off stone slick with blood and frost.
Why did they stop?
I turned slowly, claws flexing, expecting more. Expecting another wave. But nothing came.
Just the hiss of frost curling up the walls.
The pulse beneath my ribs still beat strong—hers and mine. Still in sync. Still singing.
But now the chamber was too quiet.
Too still.
I took a step. Ice cracked beneath my heel. My magic crawled outward, feeling through the frost like roots in frozen soil.
And that's when I saw it.
Not straight ahead.
Off to the side—half-buried beneath shattered debris and claw-marked stone.
Massive doors. Ancient. Towering. Encased in layers of thick ice so dense they shimmered like mirrors. Carvings barely visible beneath the frost—symbols worn by time, language I couldn't read. My instincts prickled, my core, my magic pushing against another presence.
That way leads deeper.
But the beat in my chest shifted.
Not yet.
Not until the nest is mine.
I turned from the doors.
And froze.
A shadow moved at the far end of the room. The ground shook every few seconds.
Slow. Heavy. Deliberate.
The Broodmother stepped forward.
She didn't rush. She didn't roar. She just walked—her massive frame forcing silence into every corner of the chamber. Her fur was matted with blood, her back arched and lined with jagged bone like a living mountain. One eye glinted. The other was clouded with an old scar.
The corpses didn't bother her. She stepped over them like they were nothing and then she looked at me.
Not with rage. Not with fear but a sense of supremacy.
With recognition. I let out a low growl from deep inside my chest, my heartbeat fluttering with it.
She knows what I am.
My claws curled. My mouth pulled back in a grin that didn't feel like mine.
Kneel, grovel, perish.
DIE!
She charged.
I met her head on.
We met with the force of colliding worlds.
The ground shattered beneath our weight. I clawed for her throat—she bit down on my arm. Pain. We spun in a frenzy of blood and frost, crashing into the stone, tearing through ice and bodies. Her strength wasn't raw. It was honed. Experienced.
She wasn't a wild beast.
She was a queen.
I slammed her against a column—it cracked, but she headbutted me through it. I staggered, rolled, came up slashing. She caught my wrist, twisted. My shoulder screamed.
But my magic roared louder.
Two heartbeats. One rhythm. No fear.
I broke her grip and drove my knee into her chest. Her breath wheezed. I grabbed her by the scruff, lifted—and threw her across the chamber.
She hit the wall hard enough to crater it.
Still, she rose.
I didn't wait.
I blitzed forward, claws glowing with magic, tail lashing behind me like a whip of frost. I punched through her guard, drove her back, smashed her into the stone again. Her claws dug into my side, but the scales held. Barely.
We clashed again.
And again.
Each strike thundered through the walls. Frost exploded from our feet, coating the floor in jagged patterns of ice. Blood misted the air. Mine. Hers. Both.
She lunged. I ducked, spun, slammed my elbow into her jaw.
She faltered.
And I pounced.
My claws sank into her chest. She writhed. Snarled. Tried to bite.
I roared in her face and drove her to the ground.
Then—
Silence.
She didn't move.
I stood over her, chest heaving, blood dripping down my arms.
Mine now.
The magic pulsed, deep and triumphant. Her heartbeat gone. Only mine remained—and the other. The second. The stronger.
But something felt—
Wrong.
Movement.
Small. Quick.
Behind me.
I turned slowly.
Another pup. Tiny. Barely larger than the one I'd crushed earlier. Its fur clung to it in wet clumps, streaked with ash and blood. It didn't snarl. It didn't run.
It just looked at me.
Those eyes—
They weren't filled with fear. Not entirely.
Not like prey.
They were watching. Studying.
Its gaze pierced me—not pleading, not begging. Just... aware.
I raised my hand, claws still slick with blood. My body moved before I thought to stop it.
One more. Just one more.
My muscles tensed.
Finish it.
The second heartbeat surged.
Finish it.
But my hand—shook.
My breath caught, staggered.
Wait.
I stared at it.
Still silent. Still staring.
Its tiny chest rose and fell in ragged bursts, and for a moment—just a breath—I saw it.
Not the monster.
Not the kill.
Myself.
The edge of something crumbled.
STOP!
The scream wasn't aloud. It didn't need to be.
It tore through me like a blade.
The second heartbeat staggered, went out of rhythm. My own pulse kicked faster. Wild. Uneven.
The frost creeping from my feet slowed. Stopped.
And I… breathed.
In. Out.
Again and again.
The shaking in my hand grew worse.
What was I doing?
What had I...
I stumbled back, eyes wide, claws retracting. My magic still burned under my skin, but it felt wrong now. Too hot. Too loud.
The pup blinked.
Still unmoving.
Still alive.
I turned away from it. From the blood. From the bodies. From the silence.
From myself.
I collapsed to my knees beside one of the bodies. Not out of weakness.
Out of exhaustion.
Every breath rattled in my chest. My limbs trembled—not from fear, but from strain. My magic, still lingering like smoke in my veins, pulsed with each heartbeat. The second one—hers—now sluggish, fading from sync.
Like a muscle overworked.
Or a forge left burning too long.
Each throb of power sent little jolts through my arms, my legs, behind my eyes. I clenched my jaw. Didn't cry out. Just breathed.
In. Out. Keep going.
The cold no longer bit at me. It clung to me, draped like a second skin. I could feel it in my bones—less hunger now, more... silence.
A moment passed.
Then another.
I laid back, shoulder against a broken chunk of stone, letting the frost cool my burning limbs. The pup hadn't moved. It still watched me from a distance, huddled low to the ground with wide, glassy eyes that shimmered in the low blue light. The blood that stained its fur had already begun to freeze.
It should've run.
It didn't.
It just stared.
I shifted slightly—only a fraction—and it flinched. Back paw scraping across the frost, tail tucking, ears pinned.
I didn't reach for it. Didn't move again.
Just… watched.
You shouldn't be alive, I thought. None of you should.
And yet it was.
Still breathing.
Still watching.
I looked away, gaze dragging to the Broodmother's corpse.
She lay still, her body crumpled near the shattered wall. Her fur matted, bones twisted, ribs cracked wide. The scar across her face caught the light, just barely.
How long had she ruled this place? How long had she protected them? Fought for them?
My magic still pulsed beneath my skin, but weaker now. Less triumphant.
More hollow.
What even was this place? A den? A prison? A battlefield?
The doors loomed behind her. Huge. I could still see the ice clinging to them, that ancient writing buried beneath layers of frost. Something in me still pulled toward them.
But not yet.
Not now.
My stomach clenched.
I looked back toward the scattered bodies. Blood stained the stone. Frost crusted their fur. Some of their faces were still twisted in motion—teeth bared, claws raised.
Frozen in death.
I crawled forward and stopped beside one of the larger beasts. A clean kill. Its throat torn, body mostly intact.
I hesitated.
Just for a moment.
Then leaned down.
And bit in.
The taste hit me like thunder. Metallic. Warm. A spark of life lingering in the flesh. My jaw worked automatically, tearing away a strip, chewing, swallowing.
It was wrong.
And yet—
Right.
The pup made a small noise behind me.
But didn't run.
Didn't interrupt.
I didn't look back.
I just ate.
One bite at a time.
Until the fire in my limbs began to settle. Until the second heartbeat quieted. Until the only sound left in the ruined nest was the crackle of frost... and the slow, steady rhythm of breath.
The second heartbeat quieted... but it didn't vanish. Not yet.