Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Zara Fen POV

The woods swallowed me the moment I crossed the boundary.

Light thinned quickly beneath the trees. Branches tangled overhead, blocking the rising sun. The air smelled damp and sour, layered with old blood and rot. My boots sank into soft earth with every step.

I did not slow down.

Hesitation got wolves killed.

The blade felt heavy in my hand, its grip worn smooth by use. I kept it low and ready, my senses stretched tight. Every sound felt too loud. Every silence felt worse.

The bond burned under my skin.

Not comforting. Not guiding.

Warning.

I moved deeper into the woods, following the faint marks left behind by Dawnridge patrols. Broken branches. Drag marks. Dark stains pressed into the ground where blood had soaked and dried.

Someone had been hurt here.

Someone had not come back.

A sound snapped to my left.

I froze instantly.

Something moved between the trees. Too slow to be wind. Too deliberate to be an animal passing through.

I lowered my stance, blade lifted slightly.

My wolf stirred inside me, tense and alert. Fear curled through my chest, sharp and controlled. Panic would get me torn apart.

I waited.

The woods breathed around me.

Nothing came.

I exhaled slowly and moved again, this time angling toward higher ground. Staying low made it easier to be ambushed. I needed visibility, even if it meant exposure.

The ground rose unevenly, roots twisting like traps beneath my feet. I stepped carefully, listening, counting my breaths.

Then I smelled it.

Blood.

Fresh.

My pulse spiked.

I followed the scent, every instinct screaming caution. The trees thinned slightly ahead, opening into a small clearing choked with ferns and fallen branches.

The token lay near the center.

Bone. Carved. Dark with drying blood.

Relief flared too fast.

Something moved.

A low growl rolled through the clearing, vibrating through the ground rather than the air.

I spun.

Three shapes emerged from the shadows.

Wolves.

But not pack wolves.

Their eyes were wrong. Too wide. Too empty. Their movements were jerky, uncoordinated, like bodies being driven by instinct alone. Feral.

Rogues.

My grip tightened on the blade.

They circled slowly, testing distance. One limped, its flank torn open and leaking blood. The others ignored it.

Weakness meant nothing to them.

I backed toward a fallen tree, keeping it at my side to limit angles. My wolf pressed forward, snarling, desperate for release.

Not yet.

One lunged.

I barely sidestepped in time, blade slicing across its shoulder. It howled, but the sound was wrong. Flat. Empty.

The second attacked immediately.

I dropped low and stabbed upward, the blade sinking into flesh. Hot blood soaked my hand. The wolf collapsed, twitching violently before going still.

The third did not retreat.

It charged.

Pain exploded across my arm as its teeth tore into me. I screamed and drove the blade down again and again until it released me, collapsing in a heap.

Silence crashed down.

My arm burned fiercely. Blood soaked my sleeve, warm and slippery. I staggered back, breathing hard, vision narrowing.

I did not stop.

Stopping meant dying.

I grabbed the token and shoved it into my jacket, then moved again, forcing my legs to obey. The bond flared sharply, pain threading through my chest, as if reacting to the violence.

Something was wrong.

The woods went quiet again. Too quiet.

No insects. No distant animal calls.

I felt it then.

Being watched.

Not by wolves.

By something heavier.

The ground trembled faintly beneath my feet.

I turned slowly.

A massive shape shifted between the trees. Taller than any wolf I had ever seen. Its eyes glowed low and red, fixed entirely on me.

A corrupted beast.

Half shifted. Twisted by prolonged exposure to feral territory.

Its breath steamed in the cold air.

I ran.

Branches tore at my skin as I sprinted blindly through the undergrowth. My lungs burned. My injured arm throbbed violently with each step.

Behind me, the beast crashed through the forest, fast and relentless.

I burst into another clearing and skidded to a stop.

A ravine cut through the ground ahead, deep and jagged. No way around it.

The beast lunged.

I turned and jumped.

Pain ripped through my body as I hit the far side hard, rolling down rocky ground before slamming into a tree. Stars exploded across my vision.

I pushed up anyway.

The beast snarled from the other side of the ravine, pacing, searching for a crossing.

I didn’t wait.

I staggered away, every step agony, my vision blurring with exhaustion and blood loss.

The sun was climbing now. Time was running out.

I broke through the last line of trees and stumbled into the clearing.

Dawnridge stood ahead.

Wolves were already gathered.

I collapsed to my knees at the edge of the clearing, gasping for air, blood soaking into the dirt beneath me.

Hands reached for me.

Voices rose.

“She’s alive.”

“She came back.”

I forced my shaking hand into my jacket and pulled out the token, dropping it onto the ground in front of me.

Bone hit stone.

Silence fell.

I lifted my head slowly.

“I’m not finished,” I said hoarsely.

Then everything went black.