Aurora stumbled through the dense forest, the weight of exhaustion pulling at her limbs, but she pushed herself forward, one foot in front of the other, until her body refused to take another step. She leaned heavily against a thick pine tree, gasping for air as she slumped to the ground. Her body ached, the world spinning slightly as the adrenaline began to ebb.
She had been running for hours, her mind still reeling from the events of the previous night. Her heart felt like it was still racing, a dull, constant thrum that echoed in her chest. Aurora closed her eyes for a moment, her back resting against the bark as she tried to gather what little strength she had left. Her mind screamed at her to keep moving, but the weight of everything was too much.
A strange scent drifted toward her on the wind. At first, it was subtle, almost unnoticeable, but soon the unmistakable stench of sulfur flooded her senses. Her wolf stirred uneasily, and though exhaustion pulled at her, the primal instinct of danger snapped her alert. Her eyes shot open, her body tense.
The smell... it wasn't natural.
She took a deep breath, her nostrils flaring as she concentrated. The sulfur wasn't the only thing she smelled now. Beneath it, there was something darker—more pungent—something like rotting flesh, mingling with the decay of the earth. The scent of something ancient and foul.
A growl rumbled low in her chest, barely audible. She pushed herself to her feet, despite the dizziness threatening to consume her, her senses going on high alert. Something—someone—was near.
Her ears twitched, straining to catch any movement. There. A faint rustling, a shift in the underbrush, too calculated to be the wind.
She wasn't alone.
Aurora's heart raced again, but it wasn't from fear. It was a flood of anger, a burning need to protect herself. Her claws scraped against the bark of the tree as her wolf urged her to shift. She bit back the instinct, keeping herself in her human form, but she was ready to fight.
Then, it came—silent at first but unmistakable.
A low, guttural chuckle from above.
Aurora's heart stuttered in her chest. She jerked her head up toward the trees, eyes scanning the canopy. Figures moved in the shadows, their forms crouched and unnatural in the thick branches. She didn't know what they were, but they weren't friendly. The way they were watching her, the way the silence deepened around them, was enough to make her skin crawl.
"Show yourselves!" she commanded, her voice shaky but strong, the last vestige of her bravado slipping through the cracks of fear.
A cold, mocking laugh answered her challenge.
"Fresh blood," a female voice cooed from the treetops, her tone taunting. "And here I thought the Nightshade's little wolf would be more aware of her surroundings. You're quick, aren't you? How'd you even sense us?"
Aurora's instincts were sharper than they'd ever been, even in her exhaustion. But there was something about this place—the air, the oppressive sense of danger—that told her she was being hunted.
The voice was closer now, and the shadows began to shift, figures dropping from the trees like specters. They circled her, slow and deliberate, their eyes gleaming with hunger. They were wolves, but not like her—no, these were dark, feral things, their eyes filled with malice and their snarls filled with twisted delight.
"I see you're lost, little wolf. Away from your precious Silverridge, hmm?" The same female voice spoke again, louder now, coming from behind her. The others joined in, their voices taunting, mocking, amused.
Aurora's heart thudded painfully in her chest. She was surrounded. Outnumbered. And though she fought to stay calm, her wolf was coiled tightly within her, ready to tear through these strangers and defend herself.
Her pulse quickened. Her body was already shaking, not from fear but from the desperation to survive. They were getting closer. She could hear their breath, their laughter, their claws scraping against the forest floor as they paced around her like hungry predators. The sulfur smell was almost suffocating now.
Without warning, Aurora lunged forward, claws extended, teeth bared, her wolf form almost breaking through the surface. She was fast, but they were faster. The female who had spoken earlier was the first to pounce, her claws raking across Aurora's chest in a swift, vicious swipe.
Aurora's head snapped back from the force, but she quickly regained her balance, spinning to face her attacker. She slashed with her claws, but the woman evaded the blow, laughing as she danced away. Her speed and agility were unnatural, and that made it clear: these wolves weren't just predators. They were something else. Something darker.
Another one of the attackers lunged at her from behind, but Aurora barely managed to dodge, her body still weighed down by exhaustion. Her muscles screamed in protest as she fought to stay on her feet. The pack around her was closing in, and though she fought with everything she had—kicking, biting, slashing—she was overwhelmed.
Her teeth sank into one of their shoulders, but the wolf only laughed, a sickening, mocking sound. Her teeth were sharp, her moves fluid, but they had strength in numbers. It wasn't enough.
With one final, crushing blow, Aurora's world spun, and the darkness rushed in. She had fought with everything she had, her wolf screaming for release, but it was too much. She howled, a long, desperate cry that echoed through the forest. The sound carried on the wind, sharp and haunting, and as her vision blurred, she heard the howls of the others, their laughter joining in as the darkness claimed her.
The howl rang through the forest, long and sharp. Darius and Lyra both paused, the sound cutting through the air with chilling clarity. They exchanged a glance, the tension in the air thick with urgency.
"That's her," Darius muttered, his jaw tightening. "We need to move, now."
Without another word, they both sprinted toward the source of the sound, hearts pounding as the forest seemed to shift around them.
As the wind howled through the trees and the forest blurred past them, Lyra kept pace beside Darius, her boots thudding against the earth. The lingering echo of Aurora's howl still vibrated in her bones, but it was the tightness in Darius's jaw that unsettled her the most.
"What is it?" she asked breathlessly, glancing at him as they ran. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Darius didn't answer at first. His eyes were scanning the trees ahead, focused, calculating. Then he spoke, voice low and grim. "It's not ghosts we're dealing with. It's the Kael'thrak."
Lyra's steps faltered for half a heartbeat. "The what?"
He didn't stop. "The wolves in the trees. That's their true name, though most just call them the Hollow Pack now. Nomads of the deep woods—feral, brutal, cunning. They're older than most of the packs in these mountains, and meaner than all of them combined."
Lyra's breath caught in her throat. "You think they've taken Aurora?"
"I know they have," Darius said, tone like steel. "They hunt by scent and sound, and her scent's fresh. She howled, and they would've heard it for miles. To them, that's a challenge. Or worse—a gift."
A cold chill slid down Lyra's spine. "But… I thought they were just stories. Ghost wolves hiding in the trees, taking lone wanderers. I didn't think they were real."
"They're real," Darius said. "Too real. Most packs pretend they're myths because it's easier than admitting we made a deal with devils."
Lyra frowned. "A deal?"
He nodded grimly. "Decades ago, the Alpha Council made a truce with the Kael'thrak. The agreement was simple—stay in the deep forest, away from our lands and our people, and we'd do the same. We leave them alone, they leave us breathing."
"And Aurora?" Lyra asked, her voice tight.
"She crossed into their territory. She broke the truce."
Lyra's stomach dropped. "She didn't know…"
"They won't care," Darius growled. "They never do. They'll see her as an intruder. If she's lucky, they'll keep her alive a little while—long enough to break her. The Kael'thrak don't kill quickly. They enslave. They play. And when they're bored…"
He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't need to.
Lyra swallowed hard, dread crawling up her throat. "We have to get to her. We can't let them—"
"I'll get her," Darius interrupted, slowing just enough to fix his gaze on her. His eyes glowed faintly, gold laced with fury. "But you need to stay back when we get close."
Lyra shook her head. "No—"
"Yes," he said firmly. "You've never faced them, Lyra. I have. They don't fight like wolves. They fight like something that forgot how to be anything else. Leave them to me."
"But—"
"I made it out once," he said, voice low and distant, like he was speaking from somewhere far away. "I know their ways. I know how to survive them. If you go in there swinging, you'll die before you land a blow."
The forest grew darker around them, the air thicker with tension. Lyra could feel the shift—something unnatural coiling in the trees like a serpent waiting to strike.
"Just… trust me," Darius added, eyes narrowing as he sniffed the air. "We're close now."
Lyra nodded reluctantly, fear gnawing at her, but trust beginning to take root alongside it. Whatever Darius had faced in the past, it had shaped him into something formidable. And if anyone could pull Aurora from the jaws of the Kael'thrak, it was him.