The morning broke beneath a veil of mist. The world felt quiet, too quiet, as if the forest itself was holding its breath. The banners of Valehart fluttered faintly on the hill beyond the river, marking the place where peace was supposed to be born.
Lucian stood at the edge of the clearing, the king's camp visible through the fog. His warriors moved in silence around him, hiding among the trees as planned. Darius stood at his side, gaze scanning every shadow.
Selene walked beside Lucian, her cloak drawn close. He had not really wanted her there, but he actually want her close to him. Something in her eyes had silenced his troubling heart, a certainty he could not name.
The scent of steel and damp earth filled the air.
Lucian's voice was low. "Remember the plan. We do not draw weapons unless they do first."
Darius nodded, though unease darkened his face. "And if it is a trap?"
Lucian's eyes hardened. "Then we end it fast."
They crossed the clearing together. The human guards stiffened as they approached, their spears gleaming with wet silver. Lucian's stride did not falter. The king was waiting beneath a white pavilion, draped in crimson and gold. His smile was thin, his eyes colder than winter glass.
"Alpha Lucian," King Aldred said smoothly. "At last we meet in peace."
Lucian bowed slightly, every motion measured. "Peace is bought with truth, not tricks."
Aldred's smile faltered. "Word from a man that killed my messenger"
Lucian looked with confusion, " What do you mean by that?"
Aldred replied "Then let truth speak today."
The air between them pulsed with tension. Around them, soldiers and wolves faced one another across the mist, hands on weapons but waiting. Every heart beat loud enough to echo.
Selene stood a few paces behind Lucian, her senses alive. She could feel the unease crawling through the air, the scent of treachery coiling beneath the surface. Something was wrong. The magic around her whispered warnings she could not yet understand.
Then it happened.
A sound cracked through the silence, a whistle, sharp and sudden. Before anyone could react, arrows sliced through the fog. One struck a wolf guard in the throat. Another shattered the handle of Darius's blade.
Chaos erupted.
Lucian spun, eyes glowing with fury. "Ambush!"
The clearing exploded into battle. Wolves shifted in flashes of motion, soldiers screamed, steel clashed against fang. Smoke filled the air, thick and choking.
Selene raised her hands, whispering an ancient word under her breath. A burst of invisible force rippled outward, deflecting the arrows flying toward them. She could not use too much power, if the king saw her magic, she would be hunted next, but she could save who she could.
Lucian tore through a line of knights, his movements swift and brutal. For every man who fell, two more took his place. Darius fought at his back, but even he could feel it, something was terribly wrong. They had been exposed.
Then Selene froze.
A flash struck through her mind, a vision, sudden and sharp. Caius's face appeared before her eyes, grinning in the dark, his voice whispering through the wind. It was me.
She gasped, the vision shattering as another explosion of fire lit the edge of the clearing. She turned toward Lucian, shouting his name, but the sound was swallowed by the roar of battle.
It was too late.
A knight charged from the smoke, blade gleaming with silver light. Selene stumbled back, but before the strike landed, Lucian moved faster than thought, faster than instinct. He caught the blade in his side, twisting the attacker's wrist until bone snapped. The knight fell, screaming.
Lucian staggered, blood darkening his tunic.
Selene caught him as he fell, her hands trembling. "No," she whispered, "not again."
Darius reached them, dragging Lucian's arm over his shoulder. "We have to leave now!"
Selene turned one last time toward the burning pavilion. Through the flames, she saw King Aldred standing unharmed, his expression unreadable and behind him, in the shadows, Caius watched with a smile that never reached his eyes.
By the time they reached the edge of the woods, Lucian was half-conscious, his breathing ragged. The scent of his blood filled the air.
Selene knelt beside him, pressing her hands against the wound. "He will not survive the journey to the stronghold," she said sharply.
Darius looked toward the hills. "There is an apothecary in the village. We will take him there."
Selene's eyes met his. "My shop. Follow me."
They moved fast through the forest, every sound behind them a threat. When they reached the village, Selene led them through the back door, locking it behind her. The shop was dark, the air thick with herbs and smoke.
"Bring him to my room," she ordered.
Together they laid Lucian on her bed. His face was pale, his breath shallow. He did not stir.
"Elara!" Selene called. Her sister appeared within moments, eyes wide. "Start brewing the healing draught. And prepare the moonroot."
Selene's hands glowed faintly as she chanted over his wound. The air shimmered, the candle flames trembling. But the magic sputtered and dimmed, his curse resisting her power.
"Come on," she whispered. "Stay with me."
Darius stood nearby, his fists clenched. "If you need help, tell me what to do."
"Then leave," she snapped, her control breaking. "Your presence weakens the spell."
"I will not leave him," Darius said. "Not after what your kind did to ours."
Her head whipped toward him, eyes burning with fury. "Do you want to save your Alpha or drown in the ghosts of the past?"
For a moment, silence hung heavy between them. Then Darius stepped back, jaw tight, and walked out into the shop. He sat in the corner, breathing hard, staring at the flickering light from under the door.
Elara glanced at him with a strange smile that did not reach her eyes. "It has begun again," she murmured.
Darius frowned. "What has?"
She said nothing.
Outside, the night grew darker. The first drops of rain began to fall. In the forest, wolves howled, some in pain, some in mourning.
Back at the stronghold, Caius returned before dawn, his armor untouched, his face grave. He stood before the elders, his voice heavy with false sorrow.
"The Alpha is dead," he announced. "He went to fight, not to speak. He defied the king and brought ruin upon us. We must choose a new Alpha before the other packs and the humans march upon our gates."
Murmurs filled the chamber disbelief, fear and anger.
Some refused to accept it, demanding proof. Others, shaken and desperate, began to whisper Caius's name.
By the time the moon reached its height, the pack was divided.
And far away, in a small apothecary shop filled with the scent of rain and blood, Selene knelt beside Lucian's still body, whispering words older than any curse, praying to whatever gods might still be listening.
The storm had begun and the world of wolves and witches would never be the same again.