Selene
The fortress walls loomed behind us like silent sentinels as Draven and I slipped through the shadows of the rear gate. The night air carried the sharp bite of pine and frost, and my boots barely made a sound on the damp earth. I'd packed light – a bow slung over my shoulder, a dagger at my thigh, and a small satchel with dried meat and bandages. No room for sentiment, only survival. Dorian was out there, and every moment we wasted felt like another chain tightening around my chest.
Draven moved ahead, his broad frame cutting through the darkness with that effortless grace of his. He glanced back, his golden eyes catching the faint moonlight. "You sure about this, huntress? No turning back once we're in the wilds."
I quickened my pace to match his. "I've been sure since the moment Kaelen took my son. If you're having second thoughts, feel free to scamper back to your throne."
He chuckled. "Scamper? Please. I'd rather face a horde of rogues than leave you to your own devices. Besides, who'd keep you entertained on this little adventure?"
I rolled my eyes, but a reluctant smile tugged at my lips. The man had a way of lightening the heaviest shadows, even if it annoyed me half the time. Still, as we pushed deeper into the treeline, the remnants of the mate bond stirred in my gut – a faint, unwelcome pull toward Kaelen, like an echo of his presence lurking just beyond reach. It made my skin crawl, reminding me of everything I'd lost. How could I still feel him after all he'd done? And here I was, relying on Draven, a man I barely trusted, yet whose steady presence was starting to feel... necessary. I shoved the thought down. Focus on Dorian, not whatever mess my heart was becoming.
We hadn't gone far when rustling ahead stopped us cold. Draven's hand shot out, signaling me to halt, his body tensing like a coiled spring. Before I could draw my dagger, figures emerged from the underbrush – four Shadowfang warriors wearing cloaks and armed. Leading them was Veyra, her scarred face set in a scowl, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.
"Going somewhere without us, Alpha?" Veyra's voice was laced with that stubborn edge I'd come to recognize. She stepped forward, her eyes flicking to me with a mix of suspicion and reluctant acknowledgment.
Draven straightened, his expression shifting to that easy confidence. "Veyra. I thought I told you to stay behind and hold the fortress."
"You did," she replied, crossing her arms. "But you're not marching into Bloodfang territory with just her at your side. No offense, Luna, but this isn't a solo hunt. We're coming with you."
I bristled at the "just her" but bit back a retort. Veyra wasn't wrong, we needed numbers if things went south. Still, her protectiveness grated, like she saw me as a liability rather than an asset. "And if we refuse?" I asked, meeting her gaze head on.
Veyra's lips twitched into a grim smile. "Then we'll follow anyway. Shadowfang doesn't abandon its own."
Draven sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "Stubborn as ever. Fine, but this isn't a full assault. We're keeping it small and quiet. Who'd you bring?"
Veyra gestured to the group behind her. "Renn and Thorne are scouts, they're quite good with bows and tracking. And Elara." She nodded to a slender woman with silver streaked hair tied back in a practical braid, her cloak adorned with pouches of herbs and vials. "Our healer. If we're facing rogues or worse, we'll need her skills."
Elara stepped forward, her eyes assessing us both with a calm intensity. "Moon's blessings," she said softly, her voice carrying a soothing timbre. "I've prepared remedies drawing from the Goddess's favor. I have with me some herbs blessed under the wards to amplify healing. But remember, the Goddess aids those who earn it, not those who rush blindly."
Draven clapped her on the shoulder. "Elara's the best we've got. Saved my hide more times than I can count. Alright, let's move. But everyone stay sharp... these woods aren't friendly."
As we fell into formation, with Renn and Thorne scouting ahead and Veyra at the rear, I walked beside Draven and Elara. The pinewoods thickened around us, the trees twisting into dense clusters that blocked out the stars. I noticed carvings on the trunks – ancient runes etched deep into the bark, glowing faintly in the dim light. They hummed with an energy that raised the hairs on my arms.
"What are those?" I asked, keeping my voice low as we navigated the narrow path.
Draven glanced at the nearest tree, his expression turning serious. "Wards from the old Wolf Wars. Centuries ago, packs clashed over territory, using blood magic to curse their enemies. These keep feral rogues at bay, trap their minds in illusions or drive them mad. But over time, some have began to wear out and weakened."
Elara nodded, her fingers brushing one of the runes. "The Goddess allowed such magic back then, but only for those who earned her favor through trials. Some packs relied on it blindly, including Bloodfang, thinking it a gift. But Shadowfang knows better – we maintain what we can, although it has grown increasingly difficult to keep up."
I traced a rune with my fingertip, feeling a subtle vibration. "So if they're breaking..."
"It means trouble," Draven finished. "Rogues will begin go slip through, or worse – the magic backlashes. We've lost patrols to it before."
Veyra called from behind. "Eyes forward, Luna. No time for history lessons."
I shot her a look over my shoulder. "History might save our skins if it bites us first."
She grunted but didn't argue. As we pressed on, the bond tugged again, sharper this time—a phantom ache in my chest, Kaelen's distant anger seeping through like poison. I clenched my jaw, forcing it down. Why now? Was he sensing my resolve, or was it just the proximity to his territory stirring it up? And Draven... walking so close, his arm brushing mine occasionally, sent a different kind of warmth through me. It confused me, this pull toward him. He wasn't Kaelen, with his polished promises and hidden greed. Draven was raw, unfiltered, and damn if it didn't make me question everything.
"Tell me about these wars," I said to Draven, needing a distraction. "What started them?"
He kept his eyes on the path, but his voice dropped lower, almost intimate. "Territory mostly. Packs like Bloodfang expanded too fast, raiding others for resources. Shadowfang held the borders best we could, but it cost us. Kaelen's father led one of those raids and stole our northern lands... killed some good wolves. Including family."
I caught the edge in his tone, a rare crack in his armor. "Family?"
"My parents."He hesitated, then met my eyes. "Left me to scrape the pack together. That's why I want him gone. I need to end the cycle." He grinned, "The extra power I'd get from it is a bonus."
The revelation hit me harder than expected. Even though he masked it all behind jokes and sarcasm, Draven carried scars deeper than the ones on his skin. It made him more real, less the enigma I'd pegged him as.
"I'm sorry," I murmured. "Kaelen's greed tends to destroy everything it touches."
"Oh, don't go soft on me now, huntress. Save the sympathy for when I steal a kiss under the moonlight."
I snorted. "You'd have to catch me first and tie me to a tree."
Draven's grin returned. "I just might take you up on that."
Elara chuckled softly beside us. "The Goddess favors balance, Luna. You both are the literal definition of fire and ice – perhaps you're more matched than you think."
Veyra muttered something about "foolish talk," but I ignored her. The woods grew denser, the air heavier with the scent of decay. Renn signaled from ahead, his voice a whisper carried back. "Clear for now, but the wards are thinning. Feel that hum?"
I did. I could feel a low vibration underfoot, like the ground itself was alive. We pushed on, the group falling into a rhythm of quiet exchanges. Thorne shared a quick story about a past rogue hunt, his gruff voice lightening the mood. "Nearly lost my tail to one big brute with eyes like coals. Elara patched me up, though. Said I owed the Goddess a trial for my stupidity."
Elara smiled faintly. "You did. Fasting under the full moon earned your healing fair and square."
Draven leaned closer to me. "See? Elara's not just a healer; she's our conscience. Keeps us from doing anything too reckless."
"Like sneaking out alone?" I teased.
He winked. "Exactly. Good thing you have me to keep things fun."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Hours blurred as we delved deeper, the pines closing in. The wards' glow dimmed in places, as cracks became visible in the runes. Draven paused at one, tracing the fracture. "This one's recent. Think it's sabotage?"
Veyra drew her sword. "Or time catching up. Either way, stay alert."
We continued, the night deepening. Then, a distant howl pierced the silence, followed by another. The group tensed, as weapons were readied. Elara murmured a prayer to the Goddess, her hands glowing faintly as she invoked a minor ward.
"Rogues?" I whispered to Draven.
He nodded, his expression fearless but calculated. "Sounds like. But listen... that's not normal. It's too coordinated."
The howls grew closer, and suddenly the air shimmered. The broken wards flared with unstable blue fire, casting eerie shadows. Whispers filled my ears – hallucinatory echoes, murmuring doubts and fears. "Traitor... weak... alone..."
Glowing eyes appeared in the dark, beasts surging forward with unnatural speed. Rogues, twisted by the curse, their forms hulking and feral.
"Form up!" Draven shouted, drawing his blade. "Protect the flanks!"
I nocked an arrow, my heart pounding hard. The wilds had turned on us, and the night was just beginning.