The room felt smaller, as if the weight of Reynolds' words had pressed the walls inward. Katrina sat on the edge of the bed, the carved wooden wolf clutched tightly in her hand. Her golden eyes were fixed on the flames in the hearth, but her mind was far from the room. Jon stood nearby, his dark eyes watching Reynolds with careful suspicion, Longclaw resting against the wall within reach.

Reynolds paced nervously by the doorway, his breath still visible in the cold air that seeped through the cracks. Dream sat perched on the table, her green eyes locked on him, her tail flicking sharply. Ghost lay by Jon's feet, his ears twitching at every sound.

"So let me get this straight," Jon said, breaking the tense silence. "You've been looking for Katrina because you believe your father's plans didn't die with him?"

Reynolds nodded, his expression grim. "It's more than belief. I've seen it."

Katrina turned to him sharply, her voice cold and sharp as a blade. "Seen what?"

Reynolds stopped pacing, his golden eyes meeting hers. "The shadows. They've started moving again. At first, I thought it was just the remnants of his power, lingering in the places he controlled. But it's more than that."

Katrina's grip on the wooden wolf tightened. "What do you mean, 'more than that'?"

Reynolds hesitated, his gaze flicking to Jon as if gauging whether to speak. Jon stepped closer, his voice firm. "If you know something, say it."

Reynolds exhaled heavily. "There are whispers among the clans north of the Wall—rumors that the shadow didn't die with him. That it's waiting for something. Or someone."

Katrina's stomach twisted, but she forced herself to speak. "Me."

Reynolds nodded. "You're the key, Katrina. The fire. That's why he lied to me. That's why he kept us apart. He wanted me to believe you were gone, so I wouldn't go looking for you. Because you're the only one who can stop what he started."

Katrina let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "I don't even know what he started. All I know is that he destroyed everything he touched."

"And he planned to destroy more," Reynolds said, his voice low. "The fire and the shadow—they're not just power. Together, they're a weapon. One that could burn the North, the Wall, and everything beyond it to ash."

Jon frowned, his mind racing. "Why now? If your father is dead, why is this happening?"

Reynolds hesitated again, his hands clenching at his sides. "Because his death wasn't the end. His power didn't just vanish—it scattered. The shadows, the wights, the whispers in the wind… they're all pieces of him. And they're trying to come back together."

Katrina's chest tightened, her voice trembling with both anger and fear. "And what am I supposed to do about it? I didn't ask for any of this."

Reynolds stepped closer, his expression softening. "I know. But you're the only one who can stop it. The fire inside you—it's more than his legacy. It's the only thing that can destroy what he left behind."

Jon's hand rested lightly on Katrina's shoulder, grounding her. "And how do you know this? How do we know you're not lying?"

Reynolds met Jon's gaze, his golden eyes blazing with sincerity. "Because I've felt it too. Not like her—it's weaker in me. But it's there. And it's pulling me, the same way it's pulling her."

Katrina stood abruptly, the wooden wolf slipping from her grasp and clattering to the floor. "Enough!" she snapped, her voice raw. "I've spent my entire life trying to escape him, and now you're telling me I can't? That I have to fight whatever this is because of something he put in me?"

Reynolds didn't flinch, but his voice was gentle when he responded. "I didn't want to believe it either. But running won't stop it. It'll just keep growing."

Katrina turned away, her hands gripping the edge of the table as she struggled to steady her breathing. Jon stepped closer, his voice low. "You don't have to decide anything right now. We'll figure this out, together."

Katrina closed her eyes, her body trembling. "You keep saying that, Snow. But every time I try to fight it, it just gets stronger."

"Then we'll find a way to weaken it," Jon said firmly. "You're not doing this alone, Katrina. Not anymore."

The room fell silent, the crackling of the fire the only sound. Finally, Katrina turned back to Reynolds, her golden eyes blazing with renewed resolve. "If you're my brother, and if you've felt this pull, then you know how dangerous it is."

Reynolds nodded solemnly. "I do."

"Then you know what's at stake," she said. "If you're lying, or if this is some trick—"

"I'm not lying," Reynolds interrupted, his voice steady. "I swear it."

Katrina studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she picked up the wooden wolf from the floor, turning it over in her hands. "If we do this, if we fight whatever's coming, you better be ready. Because I'm not going back to being a pawn in his game."

Reynolds straightened, his jaw set. "Neither am I."

Jon exchanged a glance with Katrina, his dark eyes steady. "What's our first move?"

Reynolds hesitated, then said, "There's a place north of the Wall—a cave my father used to go to. He said it was a source of the shadow's power. If it's still there, we might find answers. Or a way to stop this."

Katrina exhaled slowly, her hands tightening around the wooden wolf. "Then we start there."

Jon nodded, his grip tightening on Longclaw. "We leave at first light."

The fire in the hearth flickered, casting their shadows on the walls. For the first time in years, Katrina wasn't just running from her past—she was heading straight toward it.

The morning came quietly, the gray light filtering through the thin cracks in the cottage's walls. The snow outside was undisturbed except for Ghost's pawprints, a silent reminder of the constant watch he kept throughout the night. Jon stood near the door, checking his gear while Ghost sniffed at the ground, his crimson eyes watchful.

Katrina leaned against the table, fastening her cloak. She moved with more purpose now, though the exhaustion still clung to her. Her golden eyes flicked toward Reynolds, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, adjusting his boots. Dream hopped down from her perch, weaving between Katrina's legs as if sensing her unease.

"North of the Wall," Katrina said, breaking the silence. "That's where you think we'll find answers?"

Reynolds nodded, his face grim. "It's not just a place of answers—it's a place of power. If we're going to stop this, we have to understand what we're dealing with. The cave… it's where he drew the shadows."

Katrina crossed her arms, her gaze narrowing. "And you didn't think to check it before now?"

Reynolds flinched at the sharpness in her voice. "I've been trying to find you. Without you, there's no point going there."

Jon stepped between them, his tone calm but firm. "Enough. We've made the decision to go. Arguing won't help."

Katrina sighed, her expression softening as she turned toward the door. "Let's just get it over with."

The journey north was grueling. The snow fell heavier the closer they came to the Wall, and the biting wind tore through their cloaks like a knife. Ghost led the way, his nose low to the ground, while Dream stayed close to Katrina's shoulder, her green eyes scanning the landscape.

The Wall loomed in the distance, an impossibly high expanse of ice that shimmered faintly in the pale light. Jon's gaze lingered on it, the memories of his time at Castle Black rising unbidden. He shook them off, focusing on the task at hand.

"We'll use the old passage," Reynolds said, nodding toward a narrow path that snaked toward the Wall's base. "It's hidden, but not entirely safe."

"Safe enough," Jon said, his hand resting on Longclaw.

As they approached the Wall, Katrina felt the pull in her chest grow stronger. It wasn't the faint, nagging sensation she'd felt before—it was sharp, insistent, as if something was calling to her. She stopped, clutching her chest, her breaths coming faster.

"Katrina?" Jon turned, his brow furrowed with concern. "What is it?"

"I feel it," she said through gritted teeth. "It's stronger here."

Reynolds stepped closer, his face pale. "We're getting close. The shadow's reach… it lingers around the cave."

Jon placed a hand on Katrina's shoulder, grounding her. "You can do this."

She nodded, though her jaw was tight. "Let's go."

The hidden passage beneath the Wall was dark and narrow, the sound of dripping water echoing faintly as they descended. The air grew colder with every step, and the walls of ice around them seemed to close in. Ghost moved ahead, his ears twitching, while Dream hissed softly, her fur bristling.

"This place reeks of death," Katrina muttered, her golden eyes darting to the shadows.

Reynolds nodded. "It's been abandoned for years, but the shadows… they never truly left."

They emerged on the other side of the Wall, the vast expanse of the true North stretching before them. The snow here was thicker, the wind sharper, and the landscape more desolate. Far in the distance, jagged peaks rose like teeth, their bases shrouded in mist.

"That's where we're going," Reynolds said, pointing toward the mountains. "The cave is hidden in those peaks."

"Great," Katrina muttered, her voice heavy with sarcasm. "A lovely little hike through death and ice."

Jon smirked faintly. "You'll survive."

They moved quickly, the weight of the shadow's presence growing with every step. The further they went, the more oppressive the air became, as though the land itself was alive and watching. Even Ghost, usually fearless, stayed close to Jon, his body tense.

As they climbed into the foothills, Katrina stopped suddenly, her spear raised. "Do you hear that?"

Jon froze, his hand tightening on Longclaw. The wind howled through the peaks, but beneath it was another sound—a faint, rhythmic noise, like a low hum.

"What is that?" Jon asked, his voice low.

"It's the cave," Reynolds said, his expression grim. "We're close."

They pressed on, the hum growing louder. It seemed to vibrate in their chests, matching the pull Katrina felt inside her. Her breathing grew heavier, and she clenched her teeth, forcing herself to keep moving.

Finally, they reached the mouth of the cave. It was a jagged opening in the mountainside, dark and foreboding. The hum was louder now, almost deafening, and the air was thick with a cold that seeped into their bones.

"This is it," Reynolds said, his voice barely audible over the noise. "This is where he drew the shadows."

Katrina stared into the darkness, her golden eyes blazing with a mix of fear and determination. "If this is the source, then we destroy it."

Jon stepped beside her, his voice steady. "We do it together."

As they entered the cave, the hum turned into whispers, faint and unintelligible, but unmistakably alive. The shadows seemed to shift on the walls, moving of their own accord. The air grew colder, heavier, and Katrina's fire began to stir, warming her chest despite the icy surroundings.

Whatever lay ahead, Katrina knew it wouldn't be easy. But she also knew they couldn't turn back. The shadows had waited long enough.

It was time to face them.