Chapter 115: Shadows in the Trees

The moonlight dappled the forest floor, fractured by thick, gnarled branches that reached like claws overhead. Serena crouched beside Elias and Theron near the ridge’s edge, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her blade. The air was too still—unnaturally so. Not even the crickets dared to sing.

“There,” Theron whispered again, pointing toward a clearing below where faint impressions marred the mossy earth—light footprints, human-sized, but wrong. Too narrow. Too precise.

Elias narrowed his eyes. “Not rogue. Too careful for that.”

Serena touched the track with her fingers, then sniffed the air. Her wolf recoiled.

“They smell like smoke... and blood. Faint, but it’s there.”

Theron’s jaw tensed. “It’s one of the king’s shadows.”

Elias straightened. “A scout?”

“Or a message,” Theron muttered. “They’re not here to attack. They’re here to watch—and let us know they’re watching.”

“Then let’s leave a message of our own,” Elias growled, his voice low, edged with something feral.

But Serena grabbed his arm before he could move. “Elias, no. That’s what they want. You go down there now and they’ll scatter, only to strike somewhere else tomorrow night. We need to think bigger. Set a trap.”

He looked at her, breathing hard, his eyes still glowing with rage—but he nodded. “Fine. We wait. For now.”

They returned to the encampment in near silence, the heaviness of being hunted settling over them like fog. Around them, the pack warriors sharpened weapons and restocked their supplies. The healers whispered prayers over the wounded. The children huddled together in the safety of the elder wolves’ tents.

Serena walked beside Elias, every step matching his as if tethered by something invisible. After what had passed between them earlier, every brush of his arm, every glance, held weight.

“Do you regret it?” Elias asked quietly when they were out of earshot.

She blinked. “Regret what?”

“The kiss.”

Serena stopped walking. “No.”

Elias turned to her, face unreadable. “Then why are you pulling away?”

“I’m not.” She sighed, looking up at the moon. “I just... don’t know what happens next.”

“You mean after the war?”

She nodded.

Elias stepped closer, lowering his voice. “If we survive this, Serena... I want more than stolen moments and moonlit kisses. I want all of you.”

Her breath caught. The vulnerability in his voice—so different from the cold, fierce leader the others saw—was like a key turning in a long-locked door.

“I want that too,” she said, barely above a whisper.

A sharp howl pierced the air before he could answer—urgent, high-pitched, not from a warrior but from one of the scouts.

Elias’s demeanor shifted in an instant. “That came from the west side.”

They took off running.

By the time they reached the edge of camp, chaos had already started to bloom. A scout staggered forward from the tree line, blood running down his arm. “Ambush!” he gasped. “Two sentries down—attacked from the trees. Fast. Silent. Vanished before we could shift.”

Elias barked orders instantly. “Double patrols! No one leaves the perimeter alone!”

Serena turned to Theron, who’d appeared at her side. “It’s the shadows. They’re probing. Testing our defenses.”

Theron nodded grimly. “They’ll strike hard next time.”

Serena felt it too—that tightening in her chest, the warning her wolf kept whispering.

Night wasn’t over. And the enemy was already inside the trees.

Later, as darkness deepened and most of the camp settled into uneasy rest, Serena sat alone near the fire pit, sharpening her blade. Sparks flicked into the air like fireflies. Her thoughts refused to still.

Elias’s words haunted her.

I want all of you.

She hadn’t told him the one thing that still weighed on her heart—that her visions had returned. Stronger. Darker. And every time she closed her eyes, she saw blood on snow... and Elias on his knees, wounded.

She heard footsteps behind her and turned, half-expecting Elias.

But it was Theron.

“You’re not sleeping,” he said, settling on a nearby rock.

“Neither are you.”

He chuckled faintly. “Touché.”

They sat in silence for a few beats before Theron spoke again. “You care about him.”

It wasn’t a question.

Serena nodded. “I do.”

Theron studied the flames. “You’re good for him. Better than he knows.”

Serena glanced at him. “You sound almost... resigned.”

“Because I am. I made my peace with it a long time ago.” His smile was bittersweet. “Besides, I’ve always known Elias would need someone stronger than me by his side.”

She looked at him, surprised by the softness in his voice. “You’re not weak, Theron.”

“No. But I’m not the one he looks at like the moon rose just for him.”

Serena felt her cheeks flush.

Theron stood after a moment, his expression settling into something more familiar—hard, focused. “Get some rest, Serena. Tomorrow might not give us another chance.”

She nodded. But she didn’t sleep.

Her wolf paced beneath her skin all night, growling at shadows the eyes couldn’t see.

At dawn, a scout returned with news that made Serena’s blood run cold.

“They’ve taken one of ours,” the young man panted, collapsing at the camp’s edge. “Leila. From the southern ridge. No trace left except this.”

He handed Elias a black feather—long, oily, and foul-smelling.

Serena’s breath caught. “The shadows don’t just kill. They take.”

Elias’s face was like stone. “Then it’s time we bring the war to them.”