The Null's Runic Legacy

ELARA

“Can you feel it?” Bianca’s voice is a breathless whisper right next to my ear. “The air is practically electric. This is it, El. Everything we’ve worked for.”

I nod, my throat too tight for words. My heart hammers against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat matching the thrum of energy in the waiting hall of Silverfang Academy. All around us, other seventeen-year-olds fidget, their faces pale with a mixture of terror and hope. We are all waiting for the same thing: The Wolf Compatibility Test. The test that will define our entire lives.

“Stop looking so serious,” Bianca nudges me, a playful glint in her sapphire eyes. She holds up her wrist, showing me the small, silver fang charm hanging from a leather cord. It’s identical to the one on my own wrist. “Silver Fangs, side by side. Elite Class, here we come. Just like we always promised.”

I manage a smile, reaching out to tap my charm against hers. “Together, always.”

It’s been our mantra since we were six years old, skinning our knees while trying to keep up with the older pack warriors in training. Bianca Thorne. Daughter of the Alpha. Me. Elara Vance. Daughter of the Beta. We were born to lead, born to be the best. Our bond was forged in shared dreams and bloody-knuckled sparring sessions in my father’s training yard.

“Vance, Elara.”

A stern-faced proctor calls my name. My stomach plummets. It’s my turn.

Bianca squeezes my hand, her grip surprisingly strong. “Hey. Look at me.”

I meet her gaze. Her confidence is a brilliant, blinding fire. It’s always been that way. She burns bright enough for the both of us.

“My father said this test is just a formality for me. Alpha bloodlines are practically guaranteed a high score,” she says, lowering her voice slightly. “And you’re the Beta’s daughter. They wouldn’t dare give you anything less than Elite. Think of the shame it would bring your father.”

The words are meant to be reassuring, I know, but they land like a small stone in my gut. My father. Beta Marcus Vance. His expectations are a physical weight on my shoulders, a cloak I’ve worn my entire life. He didn’t just train me; he forged me. Countless dawns spent running forest trails until my lungs burned, endless afternoons mastering combat forms until my muscles screamed. He wanted me to be more than just the Beta’s daughter. He wanted me to be a legend.

“It’s not about him,” I say, my voice firmer than I feel. “It’s about my wolf. She’s strong. I can feel her.”

It’s the truth. Deep inside me, there is a warmth, a coiled spring of power I’ve always known was there. A quiet, fierce presence that hums just beneath my skin. It’s my wolf, my other half, waiting for her moment to be acknowledged, to be measured.

Bianca’s perfectly sculpted lips curve into a smile. “Of course she is. Now go in there and get the score we deserve.”

She gives my hand one last squeeze before releasing me. I take a deep breath, the sterile, ozone-scented air of the academy filling my lungs. I square my shoulders, just as Dad taught me. Head high. Back straight. Never let them see you doubt.

I walk the short distance to the testing chamber, the polished marble floor cool beneath my boots. Each step echoes in the cavernous hall. I can feel dozens of eyes on my back. They all know who I am. They all have expectations.

The chamber is a stark, circular room. In the center sits a single, intimidating chair made of gleaming silver and dark wood, covered in swirling, carved runes. Wires snake from its base into a large, crystalline console that hums with latent power. This is it. The compatibility machine. It doesn’t just measure your wolf’s strength; it measures its very essence, its connection to your soul.

The proctor gestures to the chair. “Sit. Place your hands on the armrests. Do not move until the sequence is complete.”

I obey, the metal of the armrests cold against my palms. Through a one-way viewing window, I can see the blurred shapes of the other students. I know Bianca is out there, her fingers likely crossed, waiting for my triumph so she can celebrate her own.

I look for my father in the small crowd of pack elders standing off to the side, but I can’t make out his face. It doesn’t matter. I can feel his presence, his unyielding hope. I won’t let him down.

The chamber door clicks shut, sealing me in. The low hum of the machine intensifies, vibrating through the chair and up my spine. I close my eyes, shutting out the clinical coldness of the room and turning my focus inward.

I reach for that familiar warmth inside me, the sleeping giant of my wolf. Come on, I plead silently. It’s time. Wake up. Let them see you.

A flicker. A gentle stir in the depths of my soul. It’s her. She’s here. A wave of profound relief and joy washes over me. She is strong. She is ready.

The machine whirs to life. A faint blue light begins to glow from the runes on the chair, enveloping me. My connection to my wolf deepens, the warmth spreading through my veins like liquid fire. This is more than strength. This is power. I can feel her spirit rising to meet the machine’s energy, a silent greeting, an ancient call and response.

Pride swells in my chest, fierce and hot. This is for my father. This is for my legacy. This is for Bianca, so we can step into our future together.

My heart is not hammering from fear anymore. It’s beating with pure, unadulterated anticipation. The light intensifies, and I hold my breath, ready for the world to finally see the truth of who I am. Ready for my life to begin.