The Null's Runic Legacy

Chapter 1

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.

Chapter 2

ELARA

The blue light around me is warm, a perfect echo of the power I feel stirring in my soul. It is a promise.

The machine’s hum shifts, rising in pitch.

This is it. The moment of measurement. The final calibration before the score appears.

I send a silent wave of encouragement to my wolf. Show them. Show them all what we are.

And then, something changes.

The warmth doesn't just fade. It's stolen. A sudden, violent vacuum where my power used to be. My connection to my wolf snaps like a frayed cord, leaving a hollow, freezing void.

My eyes fly open.

The blue light is gone. The machine is silent. A soft click echoes in the chamber.

On the crystalline console, a single word materializes in stark, black letters.

NULL.

The word means nothing. An absence. A zero. It’s a mistake. It has to be a mistake. The machine must be broken.

The chamber door hisses open behind me. The sound is deafening in the sudden, absolute silence of the great hall. No one is moving. No one is breathing.

I rise from the chair on unsteady legs. My gaze darts through the viewing window, searching for one face, the only one that matters. Bianca.

I find her. Her face is a mask of disbelief. But it’s not the supportive shock I expected. It’s something else. Something colder.

"There must be an error," I say, my voice a weak rasp. "The machine malfunctioned. I felt her. My wolf was right there."

The proctor looks down at his data slate, his expression unreadable. "The machine is functioning within perfect parameters. The reading is accurate."

Whispers start to ripple through the crowd, quiet at first, then gaining strength.

"Null? A Vance?"

"The Beta's daughter… a dud."

"I can't believe it. What a disgrace."

Each word is a physical blow. My face burns hot. I want the marble floor to swallow me whole. I push through the stunned silence, my eyes locked on Bianca. She’s my anchor. She’ll understand.

"B," I say, my voice cracking as I reach for her hand. "Tell them. You know my wolf is strong."

She takes a step back.

Her hand pulls away before I can even touch it. Her sapphire eyes, which have always held warmth for me, are now chips of ice.

"Don't," she says, her voice low and sharp. "Don't touch me."

The rejection hits me harder than the machine's verdict. It steals the air from my lungs.

"Bianca, what are you talking about?" I plead. "It's me."

"I don't know who you are," she says, her words precise and cruel. She doesn't even look at me. She looks past me, as if I’m already gone. "My best friend is strong. She's an Elite. You… you’re nothing."

Another girl, one of the popular alphas in waiting, steps up beside Bianca, placing a protective hand on her shoulder. She sneers at me. "Looks like you’ve been slumming it, B. Better not let the filth rub off on you."

Bianca doesn’t defend me. She doesn't even flinch. She gives a small, almost imperceptible nod.

My world tilts on its axis. The bond we shared, the promises we made, they crumble into dust. The silver fang charm on my wrist feels heavy, like a shackle.

My gaze desperately searches the room and lands on my father. He stands with the other elders, his face pale, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle spasms in his cheek. He looks older than he did this morning. Broken.

"Dad?" The word is a fragile whisper.

He meets my eyes for a fraction of a second. There is no anger. No sympathy. Just a deep, hollow chasm of shame. He turns his back on me, a deliberate, final movement, and begins speaking to another pack elder, dismissing me completely.

The floor drops out from under me.

"Thorne, Bianca," the proctor calls out, his voice booming through the hall.

Bianca straightens her shoulders, shaking off the moment as if it were a piece of lint on her perfect uniform. She walks towards the testing chamber without a single backward glance. She doesn't spare me a thought.

I stand there, frozen in the center of the hall. An island in a sea of pointing fingers and scornful looks.

The chamber door clicks shut behind Bianca. A few moments of silence pass. Then, the machine sings. A powerful, resonant hum fills the air, and a brilliant golden light floods the viewing window, far brighter than the blue light I produced.

The proctor’s voice rings out, filled with reverence. "Compatibility Score: ninety-eight point seven. Alpha Prime Designation. Elite Class."

The hall erupts in cheers. People surge forward to congratulate Bianca as she exits the chamber, a triumphant, radiant smile on her face. She accepts their praise, laughing as if this was the greatest day of her life. As if she didn't just shatter mine.

The proctor clears his throat, holding up his slate to command silence. "Final class assignments will be posted. However, a provisional placement is required."

He looks directly at me. His eyes hold no pity. Only cold, procedural duty.

"Vance, Elara. Compatibility Score: Null." He pauses, letting the word hang in the air like a death sentence. "Provisional assignment: Omega Level."

A fresh wave of gasps and mocking laughter washes over me. Omega. The lowest of the low. The class for the servants, the broken, the packless. My father’s daughter. In the Omega class.

It is worse than a failure. It is an erasure of everything I was, everything my family stood for.

I am no longer Elara Vance, the Beta's daughter.

I am a Null.

I am nothing.

And I am completely, utterly alone.

Chapter 3

ELARA

The Omega classroom is in the basement. Of course it is.

There are no polished marble floors here. Just damp, grey stone that smells of earth and resignation. The air is thick and still, a world away from the bright, airy halls I was supposed to walk.

I find an empty desk in the back corner, the wood scarred with names of failures past. I keep my head down, willing myself to become invisible.

A loud clatter of books hitting the floor makes me jump. A boy with a mop of sandy hair scrambles to pick them up, his limbs all moving in different directions at once.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his face turning a deep shade of red as he fumbles with a heavy tome. “My hands and my brain had a disagreement.”

I kneel down, gathering a few of the scattered scrolls for him. “It happens.”

He looks up, his brown eyes wide with surprise. “You’re Elara Vance.”

I flinch. “I am.”

“I’m Liam. I, uh, saw what happened yesterday. It wasn’t right.”

Before I can respond, a girl with sharp, dark eyes and a defiant set to her jaw slides into the seat next to me. She looks from Liam to me, then nods. “He’s right. What they did was garbage. I’m Anya.”

“She’s not one of you,” a sneering voice cuts in from the front row. “She’s a Vance. She’s just slumming it until her daddy pulls some strings.”

Anya is on her feet in an instant. “Say that again. I dare you.”

The instructor walks in before a fight can break out, and the tension subsides into a low simmer. Throughout the lecture on pack law, a topic I could teach myself, I feel Anya’s quiet solidarity and Liam’s occasional, clumsy attempts at a reassuring smile. It’s a strange, foreign feeling. Kindness without condition.

Later, we sit in the courtyard. Liam is trying to explain the merits of a particular healing salve, while Anya sharpens a small knife on a whetstone she produced from her boot.

“The point is, a crushed moonpetal is far more effective than…” Liam trails off, his eyes fixed on something over my shoulder. His face pales.

Anya stops sharpening her blade. Her posture goes rigid.

A shadow falls over our table.

“Well, well. Look what we have here,” Bianca’s voice is like honey laced with poison. “The Null and her collection of strays.”

I look up. She stands there, flanked by two other Elite girls, all of them looking down at us like we’re something they found on the bottom of their shoes. The silver fang on her wrist glints in the sun. It feels like a mockery of the one I still wear.

“Leave her alone, Thorne,” Anya says, her voice low and dangerous.

Bianca laughs, a high, brittle sound. “Oh, I’m so scared. The little Omega is going to what? Bite my ankles?” She turns her icy gaze back to me. “I almost didn’t recognize you without the shine of your father’s reputation. Oh, wait. That’s gone now, isn’t it?”

Her words hit their mark. I can feel the hot sting of shame behind my eyes.

“They say he hasn’t left his office since the test,” one of her cronies adds, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. “The great Beta Marcus Vance, hiding his face in shame. Because of you.”

My hands clench into fists under the table. My knuckles ache.

“That’s enough,” Liam says, his voice shaking but firm.

Bianca ignores him, taking a step closer to me. She leans down, her face inches from mine. “You were always holding me back, you know. I thought you were my equal. But you’re just dead weight. A disgrace to your bloodline.”

Something inside me snaps.

Not anger. Not sadness. It’s something else. A deep, cold pressure building behind my ribs, a low hum that vibrates through my bones. The world seems to sharpen, the colors too bright, the sounds too loud. For a second, I can feel the frantic beat of Bianca’s heart, smell the cloying sweetness of her perfume.

I just stare at her, my silence more unnerving than any shouted reply.

She recoils slightly, a flicker of uncertainty in her perfect blue eyes. She must see something on my face that she doesn’t understand.

“Pathetic,” she spits, straightening up. “Come on. I think I’m losing brain cells just breathing this air.”

She turns and walks away, her pack of hyenas trailing behind her. The courtyard noise returns, but the hum inside me remains.

That night, sleep offers no escape.

I’m standing in a forest of impossible, silver trees under a sky filled with two moons. A low growl echoes around me, shaking the very ground.

From between the trees, it emerges.

A wolf. But it’s unlike any wolf I have ever seen or imagined. It’s massive, larger than a warhorse, its fur the color of midnight. But it’s not the size that steals my breath. It’s the markings. Glowing, blue, ancient runes pulse all over its body, shifting and swirling like living constellations. They hum with a power so immense, so primal, it feels like the dawn of the world.

I’m not afraid. I should be terrified, but I’m not. I feel a pull, a sense of belonging that eclipses everything else.

The great wolf lowers its head, its eyes twin pools of liquid starlight. It opens its mouth, but no sound comes out. Instead, I feel a single word resonate in my soul.

*Soon.*

My eyes fly open. My heart is a frantic bird against my ribs. My skin tingles, a phantom echo of the wolf’s runic energy. The sterile, bleak Omega dorm room is silent and dark.

Shaking, I push myself out of bed and walk to the small, grimy window that looks out over the academy grounds. The moon is high and full, bathing the empty training fields in a ghostly light.

Then I see him.

A lone figure stands in the deepest shadows of the clock tower, perfectly still. Even from this distance, I know who it is. Kaelen Nightshade. The Alpha of Alphas. The one everyone fears.

He isn’t moving. He’s just watching. Looking directly up at my window.

As my eyes adjust, I see it. A faint, unnerving glow. His eyes. They burn in the darkness with a cold, silver fire. It’s not a look of malice or curiosity. It’s a look of recognition. As if he’s just found something he has been searching for his entire life.