The forest was quiet…
But the silence didn't last long.
By the time Matteo and Kiaro left the blood-soaked circle,
the whispers had already begun.
"He's not just vampire…"
"He's part wolf… I saw it with my own eyes."
"No one should have that kind of power…"
The words spread through the gathered wolves
like sparks in dry grass.
Fear.
Curiosity.
Hate.
They watched him walk past with wide eyes,
ears pinned back,
tails low.
Not as prey.
Not as predator.
As something they didn't even have a name for.
Matteo's steps were heavy.
Blood clung to his shirt.
Pain burned sharp in his ribs,
but his face stayed cold and calm.
Every muscle in his body wanted to collapse.
But he wouldn't.
He wouldn't let them see him fall.
Kiaro walked close beside him,
her golden eyes flicking at every shadow,
her jaw tight.
"They're afraid of you," she whispered.
"I know," Matteo said.
"Afraid people do dangerous things."
"I know that too."
Something moved behind them.
A growl, low and bitter.
Dubio staggered from the dirt,
shaking, bleeding,
his black fur patchy from the fight.
Blood dripped from his mouth as he stood,
his golden eyes burning like embers.
"Don't think this is over," he growled.
His voice cracked with pain,
but pride flared hot in it.
Like fire refusing to die.
"You should be dead," he spat.
"You are a curse."
Matteo didn't look back.
He just kept walking.
"Maybe," he said.
"Maybe I am."
Dubio's claws raked deep scars into the earth.
His breath came ragged.
His eyes followed Matteo
until the trees swallowed him whole.
By the time Matteo and Kiaro reached the river,
the entire forest was awake with voices.
"He bled and stood again."
"No wolf could beat him."
"He fought like shadow and flame."
Wolves who had once spat at the mention of vampires
now lowered their voices when they spoke his name.
Matteo.
The halfblood.
The mistake that survived.
He could feel their eyes on his back even as he walked.
A thousand unspoken questions followed him like ghosts.
Was he their doom…
or their salvation?
By dawn, the whispers reached the heart of Tukwai
the throne hall of the Wolf King.
The great stone chamber echoed with low growls.
Ancient wolf statues loomed from the walls,
their stone teeth bared in eternal warning.
Elders gathered in a ring,
their fur streaked with gray and white,
their eyes sharp with fear.
"A vampire entered our land," one elder hissed.
"He fought in the Circle."
"He defeated the prince," another added darkly.
"Without shifting."
"This is a sign," muttered a third.
"A curse returned."
The Wolf King sat silent in his throne.
Massive. Still.
A crown of black iron resting on his brow.
His eyes glimmered like cold steel.
And then the eldest spoke:
"He is not just vampire.
He carries wolf blood."
Silence crashed down like a blade.
The King's claws tapped once
against the arm of his throne.
A soft sound,
but it made the whole hall flinch.
"Find him," the King said at last.
His voice was deep. Calm. Deadly.
The kind of calm that came just before storms.
"Find this hybrid.
Bring him to me."
A shiver ran through the council.
Even the torches seemed to burn lower.
"He will not come willingly," one elder warned.
"Then make him," the King replied.
The words hit the room like thunder.
The circle of elders bowed low.
None dared meet his eyes.
The Wolf King rose from his throne,
his shadow stretching like claws across the stone floor.
"Tell the hunters," he said.
"Tonight… we hunt a halfblood."
Far away, Matteo stood on the cliff's edge,
the wind tugging at his torn shirt,
the forest sprawling endless beneath him.
The sky was pale with the first light of dawn.
Sunlight spilled over the trees,
cutting the mist into golden ribbons.
For the first time all night,
there was silence.
And yet
his chest still felt like a war drum.
His ribs throbbed.
His knuckles ached.
And his mind… would not stop.
He could still hear their voices.
Abomination. Curse. Monster.
They didn't understand.
They only saw what he could do.
Not what it cost him.
Behind him, Kiaro wrapped his torn arm with cloth.
Her hands were steady,
but her lips were pressed thin.
"They won't stop now," she said quietly.
"They've seen what you are."
Matteo stared at the sunrise.
"I didn't choose this."
"I know," she said softly.
"But they won't care."
He turned to her.
She was so close he could see the flecks of amber in her eyes.
Eyes that had once looked at him with suspicion…
now full of something else.
Worry.
And maybe
something more.
"Whatever happens next," she whispered,
"I'm with you."
For a second, the world stilled.
The ache in his bones faded.
The fire in his blood went quiet.
He nodded once.
"Then let's survive this."
Kiaro gave the smallest smile
like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
Then she tied the bandage tight,
and they turned from the cliff,
vanishing back into the shadowed trees.
But as they walked,
they didn't see the black-feathered raven
that rose from the branches below,
wings slicing the air
as it flew straight toward the heart of Tukwai.
Straight toward the Wolf King's throne.
With news.
With their names.
Somewhere behind them… the hunt had already begun.