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Shadows of Blood

Author: K. Kennedy
last update Last Updated: 2025-06-18 12:26:06

The forest smelled different at night—sharper, colder, like the world held its breath waiting for something to break. I moved silently between the ancient pines, my senses stretched taut like a bowstring. Elena’s scent was faint but unmistakable, threading through the underbrush like a silver thread weaving through dark fabric.

I followed it, heart pounding beneath my ribs. She was close. Too close for comfort, yet just out of reach. The moon hung low and full, casting pale light that flickered through the canopy, painting the forest floor with ghostly patterns.

The Ashfang Pack territory was unfamiliar, a tangled web of old magic and older grudges. The curse that bound our families whispered through the trees, carried on the wind like a warning I couldn’t ignore. I could feel it clawing at my blood, reminding me that this was no ordinary hunt.

Elena Blackthorne—my second chance mate—was more than a name now. She was the key, the hope, and the danger all wrapped into one.

I paused nea
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  • Beneath the Howling Pines   The Shadow I Was Born From

    Elena didn’t follow me when I left the spring.I think she needed time.I needed it too.Because now that the truth was out—raw and jagged between us—I could no longer pretend I didn’t know what had to be done.The curse had used us as a key.And I’d left the damn door unlocked.I moved deeper into the forest, past the Ashfang perimeter where the wards were thinnest. Not because I wanted space—but because I needed distance to think. To feel. To remember what I was before her.Before hope got involved.My wolf paced beneath my skin, tense and watchful. He hadn’t spoken since the bond was sealed. Not truly. But now he stirred.You know what they’ll ask of you, he said.I clenched my jaw. “I know.”Would you do it?I didn’t answer.Because we both knew what he meant.If it came down to choosing between saving Elena… or destroying the bond to starve the curse—Would I do it?Would I survive it?A twig snapped behind me.I spun, claws half-formed, but the figure who emerged from the mist w

  • Beneath the Howling Pines   The Truth in His Blood

    We didn’t speak for hours after the vision.Not because I didn’t want to.Because Silas didn’t know how to begin.The tension between us had solidified into something hard and cold, something that pressed against my ribs every time I looked at him and saw the flicker of guilt in his eyes.But eventually, just after dusk, he asked me to meet him by the old stone spring on the western edge of the territory. A place sacred to our kind. Where the first Ashfang wolves were said to have made their blood vows.A place of truth.He waited for me there, sitting on the edge of the stone ring, arms resting on his knees, eyes cast toward the water’s reflection.I sat beside him, the cool night air threading around my shoulders like a cloak.For a long time, neither of us said anything.Then, finally, he broke the silence.“I didn’t go scouting,” he said quietly. “Not really.”I nodded. “I know.”He didn’t look at me.“I went to the ruins. To what’s left of the Blackmoor estate.”I waited, breath

  • Beneath the Howling Pines   The Silence Between Us

    There was something wrong with Silas.He didn’t say it. He didn’t have to.I could feel it.Not through words, not even through the mate bond—not exactly. It was in the pauses between our conversations, in the way he looked at me like he was trying to memorize something he’d never see again.Like he was preparing for something I wasn’t being told.At first, I told myself I was imagining it. Stress. Training. The cursed wolves are breathing down our necks. But by the third time he flinched when I reached for him, I stopped pretending.He was keeping something from me.“Hey,” I said one afternoon, as we finished sparring and stood beneath the pine canopy, sweat glistening on our skin and breath clouding the air. “Talk to me.”Silas hesitated, jaw clenched. “About what?”“Don’t insult me,” I snapped. “You’ve been quiet since the bond sealed. And not the normal, brooding-rogue-wolf kind of quiet. The something’s wrong and I’m pretending it’s not kind of quiet.”He looked away.That was an

  • Beneath the Howling Pines   The Things We Don't Say

    I crossed back into Ashfang territory just after sunrise.The mist clung to the forest like it didn’t want to let me go. Cold soaked into my bones, but it wasn’t from the night chill—it was from the words Malric had left me with.You and Elena… are the vessel.The curse didn’t want to kill the bond. It wanted to use it.The thought gnawed at the edges of my mind the entire way back, even as my wolf kept pacing under my skin, restless and uneasy. Every step closer to her made it worse.Because I didn’t know how to tell her.Didn’t know if I should.When I reached camp, the others were already up. Warriors sparred in the clearing. Elders paced the perimeter like anxious crows. The air was tight with preparation, thick with anticipation.Elena stood at the center of it all.She was giving orders—direct, clear, confident. The way the others listened to her now… it was different. Not just out of respect. Out of trust.She wasn’t just the Alpha’s daughter anymore.She was becoming a leader.

  • Beneath the Howling Pines   Blood Never Forgets

    By nightfall, I was gone.Not from Elena. Not from the Ashfangs.But from myself.The pull of my bloodline dragged me east, deeper than I wanted to go. Deeper than Elena would ever let me, if she knew. I told her I needed to scout, to track the cursed wolves and make sure we weren’t walking into an ambush.It wasn’t a lie.Just not the whole truth.Because beneath the scouting, beneath the loyalty, there was something else.Obligation.The curse that haunted both our bloodlines didn’t come from thin air. It was seeded long ago—in violence, in betrayal, in something our ancestors had tried to bind and bury but never truly understood.And the Blackmoor name was at the center of it.Which meant I was too.The further I moved into the eastern woods, the colder the air became. The trees bent oddly here, warped and twisted, their bark streaked with black veins like something rotted them from the inside out. These weren’t Ashfang woods anymore.This was old ground.Cursed ground.I shifted j

  • Beneath the Howling Pines   The Howl Beneath the Pines

    The first howl came at dawn. It wasn’t one of ours. It was guttural, wrong—like something dead trying to remember how to sing. The sound cut through the morning mist like a blade, silencing the forest in a single breath. Birds stilled. The wind died. Even Nyx went stiff in my chest, ears pinned back, hackles raised. Mara burst into my cabin a moment later, still half-shifted, her eyes golden and wild. “They’re at the eastern ridge,” she growled. “Cursed ones. Four, maybe five. We don’t know if they’ve crossed the border yet.” I was already pulling on my boots. “Where’s Silas?” “Gone ahead,” she said, tone clipped. “Of course.” Of course, he had. I shifted mid-run, the bones cracking clean as Nyx surged forward and took control. Her body moved like lightning through the trees, leaping over fallen logs, paws pounding the ground in a rhythm older than language. The moment I reached the ridge, I smelled them. Rot. Decay. Something like burnt fur and iron. The cursed wolves stoo

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