The first bone wolf burst into the firelight like a shadow turned feral—its skull bare, jaw lined with shards of obsidian, eyes glowing an unnatural gold.
Kael met it head-on. His cursed dagger slashed across its ribs, and the creature howled as cursed fire ignited along the wound.
More followed—eight, then twelve, then a pack uncountable.
Selene moved with the fluidity of a veteran killer. Steel flashed, and one hound's head rolled across the stones, dissolving into ash.
"They're bound to something!" she shouted. "These things don't move like animals!"
Elira knelt beside the boy, her mirror shards glowing. She whispered a spell, casting a silver shield around him just as a wolf lunged from the shadows.
It hit the barrier and shrieked—its form unraveling into smoke.
"They're illusions wrapped in bone and blood!" Elira cried. "Fear turned solid!"
Kael gritted his teeth. The mark on his arm burned like molten iron. The dagger pulsed—but not in rage. In hunger.
He fed it.
Power surged through him as he lashed out—each strike of the cursed blade not just cutting flesh, but unmaking it.
The hounds faltered. For the first time, they hesitated.
And from the fog, a voice rang out.
"The heir of ruin walks in my land."
The fog parted.
A figure stood atop a crag, arms outstretched, chains dangling from his wrists like trophies. His face was masked in tarnished gold, and his eyes burned with drowned fire.
"Kael of the Throne. Do you come to take… or to kneel?"
Kael stared up, chest heaving. "I came to stop the curse."
The man laughed. It was the sound of deep water closing over your head.
"Then drown with the rest."
With a flick of his wrist, the hounds regrouped—melting together.
One massive creature emerged. A wolf made of many, stitched with bone and bound by red iron chains. Its eyes were legion.
Selene whispered, "Gods…"
Kael stepped forward.
"We kill the fear, or it kills us."
He raised the dagger. The throne's curse rose with him.
The battle for the Red Teeth had truly begun.
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End of Chapter 20
Kael faces the chained tyrant of the Red Teeth—a Marked who has turned fear into a weapon. The cursed do not always hide; some rule from atop blood-soaked thrones.