Chapter Forty-Four: Helena Moves
Helena POV
The eclipse cast its jagged shadow over the land—a slow, parasitic crawl of darkness that made the world seem hollow and expectant. The air itself held its breath, and I reveled in the hush. I loved the pause before the chaos, the silence that preceded the scream.
I stood atop the jagged ridge overlooking the Thornblood lands—once hers, soon to be mine. The scent of pine and damp earth reached me, but beneath it lingered the intoxicating perfume of fear, hope, and grief.
Deliciously fragile.
A whisper of power stirred at my fingertips, cold and clinical. I raised my arms, palms up, fingers splayed like claws ready to rip the sky itself. The White Wolf magic that had slumbered within me—the inverse of Hazel's chaotic heat—stirred awake. It didn't burn; it froze.
"Come," I murmured, my voice low, silky, and lethal. "Skoll-kin, arise. Hunt, tear, consume."
Shadows beneath my feet began to liquefy. They shifted and stretched, defying the laws of light. Black shapes emerged from the earth, twisting into the forms of wolves—but larger, impossibly fast, with eyes like molten silver and no pupils. Their teeth glinted as if forged from the core of a fallen star, and their fur was a void that absorbed the very moonlight.
The eclipse painted them as gods of ruin. They were monstrous. They were terrifying. They were perfect.
"Bring her to me," I hissed, the command vibrating with the weight of my will. "Make her bleed. Make her fear the dark again."
From this vantage point, I could see the distant ridge where Hazel had spent her youth—the forests where she had learned to run, to fight, and to survive. Soon, those woods would scream in unfamiliar ways. Soon, she would come.
A single thought passed through my mind as I watched the shadows coalesce: She would rise to protect them. It was her greatest strength and her most pathetic flaw. And in doing so, she would step directly into my waiting trap.
The Skoll-kin moved as one—a hive-mind of predation. I sent them forward with a pulse of my intent, letting their spectral senses seek the scent of my prey.
And then, a flicker of annoyance tugged at the edges of my mind. Caleb. He was always too close. Always too involved. I had expected him to be distant or cautious after the Red Wolf fusion—predictable and protective. Yet he lingered near her borders, his scent and presence faint but undeniable. He wasn't just a guard anymore; he was a tether.
I smiled, a thin, calculating line. Perfect. Let them be drawn into my game together. The bond would guide them, yes—but it would also act as a blindfold. It would make them focus on each other while the shadows I sent ahead moved into their blind spots. Let the wolves scatter their focus. Let the fear I unleashed fracture their fragile new control.
A single howl tore through the night—a chilling, metallic note of pure predation. The Skoll-kin followed the sound, spreading into the forests like ink dropped into clear water.
I crouched low, scenting the air with precision. In the valley below, the first of the young sentinels stumbled upon my hunting grounds. They were innocent prey—easy to devour. When the first cry of agony reached my ears, it felt like a symphony. I didn't feel pity; I felt the ripple effect.
The shock. The grief. Hazel would feel every death. Every life I snuffed out would be a hook in her soul, dragging her toward me.
My hands curled into fists, white-knuckled and hungry. "Yes," I whispered, watching the shadows slide back, coiling around the trees, the grass, and the very stones. "Come out, Hazel Thornblood. Come running to your doom."
The Skoll-kin erupted in a burst of coordinated speed—a dark tide flooding the valley. Branches snapped beneath their weightless paws; the smell of ozone and raw, corrupted magic thickened the night. I let the power build beneath my skin until my very pores wept shadow. I could feel her now—Hazel—like a frantic heartbeat, fierce and wild.
"Do not fail me, my wolves," I murmured, and a shiver of dark energy ran through the pack.
She will burn for this, I thought. She will bleed for every mistake she has ever made.
I stepped back from the ridge, letting the darkness of the eclipse drape over me like a sovereign's cloak. The wind carried the scent of burning leaves and pine resin, the night alive with the promise of systematic violence.
A laugh escaped me—quiet, chilling, like ice scraping against glass.
"Let her come," I said to the empty air. "Let her come, and let the world witness what it means to challenge the White Wolf."
In the distance, faint but distinct, I sensed a ripple—the pulse of her power stretching, trying to map the chaos I had unleashed. Hazel Thornblood, my most infuriating challenge and my most perfect piece on the board, was moving.
The game was finally moving into the endgame.
The Skoll-kin spread, shadows melting into every corner, waiting for the first drop of blood to hit the floor. I let my mind drift, considering the traps within traps. Caleb would follow. Flora might try to intervene. Adam... he was unpredictable, but he could not contain the void I had unleashed. Not fully.
When Hazel stepped into the forest I had poisoned with fear, I would be ready. Every strike, every claw, every echo of a Skoll-kin's growl would draw her closer to the center.
To me.
And finally, I would see the truth of the Red Wolf fusion. I would see her full potential.
And then, I would break her. Or I would take her.
The night stretched on, infinite and expectant. The eclipse deepened. The shadows thickened.
And Helena smiled.
War had truly begun.