LightReader

Chapter 1 - The Healer's Routine

Rowan's POV

The woman's scream cut through the evening air like a knife.

"Please! Someone help me!"

I dropped the medical tools I was packing and ran outside. A refugee stumbled toward my office, blood pouring down her arm. Deep scratch marks tore through her skin—the kind only Feral wolves leave behind.

"Inside. Now." I grabbed her good arm and pulled her through the door. My hands moved fast, reaching for clean cloth and healing herbs. "How long ago were you attacked?"

"An hour. Maybe less." The woman's face was ghost-white. "Is the infection going to turn me?"

My stomach twisted. Everyone feared the same thing. One bite from a Feral could turn a normal wolf into a mindless beast. "Not if I treat it fast enough."

I pressed my palms against her torn flesh and let my healing power flow. Warm golden light spread from my hands into her wound. The woman gasped as the corruption burned away. Black smoke rose from the claw marks before they slowly closed.

"You're lucky," I said, wrapping her arm with bandages. "The corruption hadn't spread to your blood yet."

The woman started crying. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

I helped her stand. "Go home. Rest. Come back tomorrow so I can check the wound."

After she left, I locked the clinic door and leaned against it. My whole body felt tired. Healing always took my energy, but lately it felt worse. Like something inside me was waking up—something that wanted more power than I could give.

The sun was setting as I walked home through Ashenvale village. This place wasn't much—just scattered cabins where refugees lived after fleeing Feral territories. But it was safe. It was mine. And most importantly, it was far away from Nightborne Fortress.

Far away from him.

I pushed that thought down hard. I hadn't let myself think about Commander Thaddeus Nightborne in months. What was the point? He'd made his choice four years ago. He picked duty over me. He picked his blood-bound wife over his own child.

My hand moved to my chest, touching the spot where my heart still ached.

Stop it, I told myself. You're better than this.

I reached my small house and pushed open the door. "Ember? Baby, I'm home."

"Mama!" My four-year-old daughter looked up from the kitchen table, her storm-grey eyes bright with joy. "Look what I drew!"

I walked over and kissed the top of her head. Her dark curls smelled like the lavender soap we used. "Let me see, sweetheart."

Ember pushed her drawing toward me. My blood turned cold.

She'd drawn three stick figures linked by glowing threads. Red threads. One figure was bigger than the others, with broad shoulders and what looked like a scar on the chin. The threads linking him to the other two figures pulsed with dark red color—almost like they were bleeding.

"That's beautiful, baby," I said carefully, trying to keep my voice steady. "Who are these people?"

"The thread-people," Ember said, like it was clear. "The sad warrior, you, and Daddy-Dante."

My heart hammered in my chest. "The sad warrior?"

Ember nodded seriously. Her little finger traced the biggest figure. "He's been getting closer for weeks, Mama. His thread is so dark now. So angry and hurting."

"Ember, how do you know—"

"I can see the threads between people," she interrupted. "They show me who belongs together. Your thread and Daddy-Dante's thread are green and warm. But the sad warrior's thread..." She frowned. "It's red and burning. And it's connected to you. And to Daddy-Dante too, which is weird."

I sat down hard in the chair next to her. Ember had been drawing these "thread-people" for months, but I'd thought they were just imagination. Children see things adults can't, the old doctors used to say. But this was different. This was specific.

"Ember, listen to me carefully. When you say the sad fighter is coming—" "He's already close, Mama." Ember's eyes went faraway, like she was seeing something far away. "Maybe a day's trip from here. He smells like pine trees and blood. And he's so, so sad inside. Like his heart is breaking."

No. No, no, no.

It couldn't be him. Thaddeus didn't know where I lived. I'd covered my tracks exactly when I ran four years ago. I'd used my healer knowledge to hide my smell. I'd avoided all Covenant areas. There was no way he could have found me.

But Ember had never been wrong about her dreams.

The door opened and Dante walked in, bringing a basket of supplies. "Sorry I'm late. The market was crowded today—" He stopped when he saw my face. "Rowan? What's wrong?"

I couldn't speak. I just pointed at Ember's picture.

Dante set down the box and looked at the paper. All the color drained from his face. "Oh no."

"You know what this means?" My voice came out as a whisper.

Dante knelt beside Ember, his hand shaking as he touched her picture. "How close is he, little flame?"

"Really close." Ember tilted her head. "Why does everyone look scared? The sad hero just wants to find Mama. He's been looking for so long."

Dante and I stared at each other. Three years we'd been together. Three years he'd been the father Ember needed, the partner I'd learned to love. And now everything was about to fall apart.

"We need to run," I said. "Tonight. Pack what we can carry and—"

"It's too late for that," Dante said softly. His eyes had changed—they looked haunted. "If Ember can sense him this clearly, he's close enough to track your smell. Running now would just make him chase faster."

"Then what do we do?"

Dante stood up and walked to the window. He looked out at the darkening forest. "We face him. Together."

My hands clenched into fists. Four years. I'd had four years of peace. Four years of making a new life. Four years of healing from the pain Thaddeus Nightborne had caused.

And now he was coming to destroy it all again.

"Mama?" Ember's small voice broke through my fear. "The sad warrior isn't coming alone."

I turned to her. "What?"

Ember's eyes glowed with an eerie golden light I'd never seen before. When she spoke, her voice sounded older. Wrong.

"He's bringing soldiers. And someone else is following him. A lady with ice in her heart and blood on her hands. She wants to hurt us, Mama. She wants to cut all the threads."

The golden light died from Ember's eyes and she slumped forward. I caught her before she hit the table.

"Ember! Baby, wake up!" I shook her gently.

Her eyes fluttered open. "I'm sleepy, Mama."

"I know, sweetheart. Let's get you to bed."

As I carried Ember to her room, my mind raced. Thaddeus was coming. And someone dangerous was following him.

After four years of hiding, my past had finally caught up with me.

And this time, I had a girl to protect.

I laid Ember down and pulled the blanket over her. She was already asleep, her small chest rising and falling calmly. She had no idea that her whole world was about to change.

I walked back to the kitchen. Dante stood by the window, his shadows whirling around him—a sign his powers were activating.

"How long do we have?" I asked.

Dante's jaw clenched. "If Ember's right about the distance? He'll be here by dawn."

Dawn. Just a few hours away.

I looked at Ember's picture still lying on the table. The red threads pulsed in my mind, connecting me to a man I'd tried so hard to forget.

"There's something I never told you," Dante said suddenly. His voice was tight with guilt. "About why I left the Nightborne Fortress. About the real reason I can't let Thaddeus find us."

I turned to face him. "What are you talking about?"

Dante met my eyes, and I saw real fear there. "Thaddeus and I... we're not just blood-brothers, Rowan. We're bound by something much darker. Something that ties all three of us together whether we want it or not."

Before I could ask what he meant, a howl split the night.

Long, sad, and way too close.

Dante's face went white. "That's impossible. He shouldn't be here yet."

The howl came again, closer this time. My wolf knew it instantly, even after four years. My whole body started shaking.

"Get Ember," Dante said quickly. "Now."

I ran to Ember's room, but when I threw open the door, my heart stopped.

The window was open. The curtains flapped in the breeze.

And my daughter's bed was empty.

In the dirt outside the window, I saw small tracks leading into the dark forest.

And next to them, huge wolf tracks that could only belong to one person.

Co

mmander Thaddeus Nightborne had found us.

And he'd already taken my daughter.

More Chapters