The cold air pressed against my skin as we moved forward. Each breath steamed into the early morning fog, heavy with tension and the scent of iron. Leaves crunched beneath our boots. The trees loomed on either side, tall and watchful, as if they too knew war was coming. Behind me, my pack moved with silent purpose. Wolves in formation. Soldiers of the dusk. Some in human form. Some already shifted, fur rippling, teeth bared.
We had left the stronghold behind us, its walls smaller with each passing hour. And ahead, the Black Pines waited.
Not a single bird sang.
I had marched to battle before. Too many times to count. But this felt different. This was not a skirmish. Not a warning. This was fate laying down its cards. And we would be forced to play.
Aria rode beside me on a dark stallion borrowed from the northern outpost. She looked regal in her armor. Her shoulders squared. Her eyes forward. Her hair tied back, though a few strands still danced across her cheek with every gust of wind.
The others gave her space, as they often did. She was still learning to command her magic, but the fire within her was real. And they respected it. They feared it, some of them. But not me.
I trusted it.
She glanced at me. Her expression unreadable.
Do you think they will come to meet us before we reach the Pines? she asked.
If they're smart, I said. But Veyran's ego is as thick as his thirst. He will wait. He wants us on his soil. He wants us to feel surrounded.
And you? she asked.
I smiled.
I want him to feel cornered.
By midday, we crossed into old territory. Lands we once patrolled before the vampire hordes pushed us back. I remembered this ground. Every tree. Every stream. Every place where blood had once soaked the roots.
A small shrine stood half-buried beneath snow, carved with names I knew. Warriors who had fallen. Wolves who had stood their ground. I stopped and knelt. Brushed the frost from their names.
Talia joined me in silence. Jarek stood back, eyes scanning the tree line.
We rise because they fell, she said quietly.
I nodded.
Then we stood and moved on.
As dusk approached, we made camp by a frozen lake. Fires were lit, but small. Flames held low, careful not to betray our presence to the eyes that watched from the woods.
I walked the perimeter, checking every sentry. Not because I distrusted them, but because my instinct pulled me toward movement. Stillness had never suited me. Not when danger crouched just beyond sight.
I found Aria seated on a fallen log, her fingers outstretched toward a flickering flame that danced above her palm. The fire did not burn. It shimmered like light made liquid.
She did not look up as I approached.
Do you feel them? she asked.
Yes.
How close?
Close enough to smell the hunger in their breath.
She closed her hand, extinguishing the flame.
Then we should not sleep tonight.
I gathered the lieutenants once the fires died low.
They are watching us, I said. Not attacking yet. That means they're waiting for something. A signal. A moment.
Then we attack first, said Jarek.
Not yet, I said. We let them believe we do not see them. We let them think we fear the dark.
And then?
Then we light it up.
They nodded.
By dawn, we move. No more waiting.
The night stretched long.
The moon hung low, red and swollen like an open wound. I sat alone near the lake, listening to the stillness, the faint crackle of frost.
Aria joined me, wrapping her cloak tighter.
I used to fear the dark, she said.
Everyone does.
She shook her head.
No. Not like most people. I used to dream that the dark would come and take me away. That one day I'd open my eyes and there would be no more light. No more warmth.
And now?
Now I am the fire.
I looked at her, proud.
Then let them come.
At first light, we broke camp.
The frost crunched louder. The air sharpened. My skin itched beneath my armor. The scent had changed again. No longer distant. Now they were near. Surrounding. Waiting for the order.
We reached the clearing at the mouth of the Black Pines by midday.
The trees stood thick and black as tar. Tall, twisted trunks with no leaves. No light reached through them. The very air shifted. Heavy. Cold. Wrong.
This was their ground.
Jarek growled low behind me.
I smell blood.
I lifted my hand and stepped forward.
That is not all you smell.
From the shadows emerged the first line of Nightborn.
They moved silently. Not running. Not charging. Just appearing, like smoke rising from the ground.
They stood tall, their skin pale and stretched. Eyes like black glass. No hearts beat in their chests. They lived only through the hunger.
Behind them, more followed. And more.
And then I saw him.
Veyran.
He moved like a shadow, tall and cloaked, his mouth twisted into a smirk.
So the Alpha brings his pets to die.
I stepped forward.
And the coward hides behind his dead things.
His eyes narrowed.
You should not have brought her.
He looked at Aria.
She stepped beside me.
You are afraid of me, she said.
I fear nothing, he snapped.
Liar.
He hissed, sharp and sudden. The army behind him bristled.
And then the air split with a single shriek.
From the trees came something else.
A woman in red.
She moved like a ghost. Her feet did not touch the ground. Her eyes glowed silver, and every step she took left frost on the earth.
She said nothing. She only stared.
Aria stiffened.
That's her.
The dream?
Yes.
Who is she?
I do not know. But I feel her inside my bones.
The red woman raised a hand.
Veyran stepped back, deferring to her.
That told me everything.
She was not his ally.
She was his queen.
The first attack came not from the front, but the sides.
Vampires leapt from the trees, claws extended. My wolves met them mid-air.
The clearing exploded into chaos.
Steel rang. Teeth tore. Fire burst from Aria's hands, sweeping into the trees, turning darkness into flame.
I shifted, my bones cracking, my body transforming.
The beast within me rose.
I let him take over.
We charged.
I tore through two Nightborn before they could react. My claws raked through their throats, their bodies falling like ash. My pack followed, howling as they descended.
Aria stood in the center, flame spiraling around her like a storm.
The red woman raised both hands.
From the trees came shadows.
Not vampires.
Something older. Darker. Creatures made of smoke and bone, their bodies twisting and reforming.
They swarmed the flanks.
Hold the line, I roared.
Jarek and Talia pushed forward, forming a barrier.
And then she moved.
The red woman stepped into the fight.
Where she walked, wolves fell.
Not from wounds.
From fear.
She was not just magic.
She was death.
I fought toward her, tearing through bodies, clawing my way across blood-soaked ground.
Aria reached her first.
The red woman turned.
They faced each other like fire and ice.
Aria lifted both hands.
Her flame surged.
The woman raised her fingers.
And the flame stopped.
Frozen mid-air.
Aria gasped, dropping to one knee.
I leapt between them.
My claws raked across the red woman's arm.
She vanished in smoke.
But her laughter remained.
We pulled back to the treeline, regrouping.
Bodies lay everywhere.
Ours. Theirs.
Aria collapsed, breathing hard, blood on her lip.
What happened? I asked.
She stopped my flame. Like it was a toy.
She is stronger than we thought.
Stronger than anything I have ever felt.
Then we find her weakness.
She looked up, eyes blazing.
And we burn her down.
The battle was not over.
Only paused.
They would come again.
But now, I knew something new.
Veyran was not the true danger.
She was.
And if we were to survive, we had to kill something that may never have lived.
But we were wolves.
We were built for the hunt.
And she had just made herself prey.