Chapter Sixteen: The Shadow of the City
Kael's boots hammered against cobblestones, his cloak snapping behind him as he hurtled into the alleys. Umbra was a blur of black muscle at his side, claws scraping stone, golden eyes locked on their prey.
The thief darted like a wisp of smoke—small, quick, vanishing around corners before Kael's eyes could settle. Each turn led them deeper, away from the colorful banners of the market and into the veins of the city's underbelly.
The air changed first.
Here, it was heavy with rot and damp, the scent of stale water mingling with refuse. Shouts of merchants gave way to the coughs of beggars, the muttered dealings of men with knives tucked in their belts. Rats scattered as Kael thundered past, shadows bending unnaturally toward him as though dragged in his wake.
Umbra snarled, leaping a stack of broken crates with effortless grace. The thief skidded around a corner, her small frame slipping through a gap between leaning buildings.
Kael didn't slow. His eyes burned crimson, his blood pounding in his ears. His voice cracked like a lash.
"Stop!"
The word carried power, shadows stretching toward the girl, making her stumble for half a breath—but not enough. She pressed forward, clutching the stolen chest to her chest like a lifeline.
The alleys narrowed, filth pooling where rainwater had nowhere to go. Laundry lines sagged above, dripping onto Kael's shoulders as he passed beneath. He vaulted a splintered barrel, his shadows catching on the edges and flinging him forward with unnatural speed.
The girl glanced back, wide-eyed, and for a moment Kael saw her face. Dirt smudged her cheeks. Her eyes were sharp with fear, not malice.
Umbra lunged, snapping at her heels. She yelped, darting left into an archway, spilling into a square half-buried in shadow. Stone walls rose high on all sides—dead end.
She stopped short, breathing ragged, her chest pressed tight against the stolen box.
Kael entered a heartbeat later, Umbra pacing low and slow to cut off her escape. Shadows curled up Kael's arms, coiling like serpents hungry for release. His voice was low, dangerous.
"Cornered."
The girl turned, pressing her back against the wall. Her hands shook, but her chin lifted defiantly.
And Kael saw—truly saw.
She was human. Barely more than sixteen summers. Thin to the point of frailty, her clothes little more than rags stitched together. The box seemed to weigh more than she did.
Her voice cracked, but she forced words out. "Stay back. I'll— I'll smash it if you come closer!"
Kael's crimson eyes narrowed, shadows flickering around him as Umbra's growl filled the square.
For the first time since the chase began, Kael hesitated.
The girl pressed tighter against the wall, the stolen chest clutched to her chest. Her eyes darted from Kael's burning gaze to Umbra's slow prowl, back again. Sweat streaked lines through the dirt on her face.
Kael stopped just out of her reach, shadows curling lazily around his shoulders like restless smoke. His voice was even, but carried the weight of command.
"Why steal from me?" His crimson eyes locked on hers. "Out of every stall in the market, every merchant distracted by coin—you chose mine. Answer me."
The girl swallowed hard. "I… I needed it."
Kael's expression darkened. "Need does not excuse theft. You risked your life for this chest. What is worth so much to you?"
She hugged the chest tighter, shaking her head. "You wouldn't understand."
His shadows twitched, darkening the corner of the alley. "Try me."
Her eyes flickered, searching his face. And something in Kael's gaze—despite the fire, despite the weight—was not entirely cruel. She stammered, voice cracking.
"There are children. My brother. He's sick. We have nothing. No food, no silver. If I don't bring something back, he…" She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, but no tears fell. She was far too used to swallowing them.
The shadows around Kael stilled. He looked at her—truly looked. He saw the hollows beneath her eyes, the way her bones pressed against her skin, the sheer desperation that clung to her.
Slowly, he let the shadows fade. His shoulders lowered a fraction, and Umbra's growl dwindled to a low rumble.
"You should have asked," Kael said at last, his voice quieter, though no less commanding. "But instead, you chose theft. You put yourself—and others—at risk. That is a mistake you cannot afford."
The girl's lips parted, surprise flickering across her face. Kael took a slow step closer, hand extending toward the chest.
"Give it back," he said firmly. "And I will decide your fate."
For the first time, her grip loosened. Her arms trembled as though she were about to obey.
Then movement.
The faint scrape of a blade behind him.
Kael's instincts screamed, shadows flaring too late as a second figure darted from a side passage—a boy, barely older than the girl, a jagged knife raised high. His face was twisted with fear and anger, his cry sharp in the air.
"Stay away from her!"
Kael pivoted, shadows already rising—
—but Fenrik was faster.
The wolfkin slammed into the boy from the side, his spear haft knocking the knife away in a clatter of metal on stone. Fenrik snarled, fangs bared, pinning the would-be attacker with a knee to the chest.
"You'll spill no blood today, cub," Fenrik growled, his voice a deep rumble of authority.
Kael's crimson eyes flared as he turned back to the girl. For a heartbeat, the shadows surged again, anger threatening to overwhelm his earlier restraint. The betrayal bit deep—he had lowered his guard. Trusted, if only slightly.
The girl shrank back, eyes wide with horror, staring not at Fenrik restraining her brother but at Kael's terrible gaze. She whispered, trembling, "Please… don't hurt him. He was only trying to protect me."
Kael stood silent, the weight of his power thick in the alley.
Umbra's golden eyes flicked between them all, his low growl the only sound in the silence.
Finally, Kael's hand dropped to his side. His voice came cold and sharp.
"You have made your situation worse. Both of you."
He stepped forward, looming over the girl, his shadow stretching across her small frame.
"But I will not kill you." His words cut through the air like steel. "Instead, you will explain everything—here and now. Who you are. Where you come from. Why you steal. You will give me no more lies, or I will reconsider."
The girl clutched the chest tighter, trembling—not from the weight, but from the realization that she stood on a knife's edge between mercy and destruction.