CHAPTER 6

The morning mist clung low to the forest floor as Lyra did her morning patrol. Stormfall’s borders were always quiet at dawn, but today the silence felt wrong; it was too heavy, too still. Usually, there would be the noises from the animals scurrying around the forest, or the birds in the trees. But this morning, there was nothing.

Lyra slowed, scanning the ground. Just like Talia had shown her.

Something had been here.

The soil was disturbed in a way she didn’t recognise, deep impressions, uneven spacing, and a strange drag mark. She crouched, brushing her fingers lightly over the tracks.

They were too large for a normal wolf. Too erratic for prey. Too heavy for anything she’d seen in Stormfall territory before.

A chill crawled up her spine.

She leaned closer, inhaling. The scent was faint, muddled, and unfamiliar. It wasn’t Stormfall scents, nor did it smell like anything she knew from the Bloodpine pack. It was something else. Something wrong.

Lyra straightened slowly, her pulse quickening as it hit her.

Rogues.

It had to be; there was no other explanation. She rose to her feet, scanning the trees. The forest remained still, but the hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

She needed to tell her father.

Her father stood near the training grounds, speaking with two senior warriors when Lyra approached. His expression was stern, which was typical for him, but today there was an edge to it.

“Father,” Lyra said, stopping beside him.

He turned. “Lyra. What is it?” He knew something was wrong instantly.

“I found tracks near the northern border,” she said. “Large ones. Too large for a normal wolf. And the pattern was strange, almost erratic.”

One of the warriors frowned. “A wounded rogue, maybe.”

Lyra shook her head. “It didn’t smell like a lone wolf. And the spacing was off. It felt… wrong.”

Alpha Thorne studied her for a moment, his gaze sharp. “Show me.”

Lyra led them back to where she found the tracks, but when they reached the spot, the tracks were already fading. The scent had thinned, barely detectable.

Her father crouched, examining the ground. “These are old.”

“They weren’t an hour ago,” Lyra insisted, although it confused her. How can an hour make them seem days old?

He stood, brushing dirt from his hands. “It was likely a lone rogue passing through. Nothing more.”

Lyra’s jaw tightened. “It didn’t feel like a lone rogue.”

“Your instincts are strong,” he said, “but not infallible. We’ve had no recent confirmed sightings of groups nearby. Stormfall is safe; it seems they have moved on.”

Lyra opened her mouth to argue, but the look he gave her silenced her.

He turned to the warriors. “Double patrols for the next two days. Just in case.”

Then he walked away.

Lyra stared at the fading tracks, frustration burning in her chest. She wasn’t imagining this. Something was out there. Something dangerous. And he must have sensed it too, otherwise he wouldn’t have doubled the patrols. He wouldn’t do that just to make her feel better. He doesn’t like wasting resources.

If he didn’t trust her judgment, then she would investigate herself.

Lyra returned to the border just before the sun set, moving silently through the trees. Shadows stretched long across the ground, and every rustle of leaves made her muscles tighten.

She followed the faint trail deeper into the woods, past the border markers, past the familiar paths she used to meet Talia. The scent grew stronger; it had a metallic scent, tinged with something feral.

Then she saw it.

A tree trunk, gouged by deep claw marks.

Lyra approached slowly, her breath catching. The marks were high, far higher than any normal wolf could reach, even with rearing up. Which meant these wolves were huge. And the marks weren’t clean. They were jagged, uneven, as if whatever made them had claws that didn’t retract properly.

Her stomach twisted. This wasn’t a normal rogue. This wasn’t even a normal wolf.

She moved to the next tree. More marks. Then another. And another.

Her father had been wrong. Very wrong.

Lyra swallowed hard. She needed to warn Talia. If these creatures, whatever they were, moved into Bloodpine territory, Talia’s pack would be in danger. And Talia would be in danger.

She should have told her about the rogues when she first learnt about them, but it completely slipped her mind. And then things have been quiet recently… until now.

Lyra turned and ran to the neutral clearing where she always met Talia.

As she reached the clearing, Talia was already waiting. She looked up, smiling, until she saw Lyra’s expression.

“What happened?” Talia asked, standing quickly.

Lyra didn’t waste time. “There are tracks nearby. Big ones. And claw marks on the trees, high up. Too high.”

Talia’s face paled. “Rogues?”

“Not normal rogues,” Lyra said. “Something else. Something stronger.”

Talia swallowed. “My father mentioned strange scents near our southern border. He thought it was someone from your pack at first.”

Lyra shook her head. “It’s not us.”

Talia wrapped her arms around herself, staring into the trees. “Do you think they’re close?”

Lyra hesitated.

Talia noticed. “Lyra.”

“Yes,” Lyra said quietly. “I think they’re close; the marks were fresh.”

Talia tried to smile, but it faltered. “Well… that’s great. Just what we needed. Mystery monsters in the woods.”

Lyra huffed a breath. “They’re not monsters.”

“Big claws, weird tracks, no scent you recognise?” Talia raised a brow. “Sounds like monsters to me.”

Lyra didn’t argue. She couldn’t call them rogues, because they weren’t normal rogues.

Talia paced, running a hand through her hair. “My father will panic if he hears about this. He’ll blame Stormfall. Or he’ll send scouts. Or he’ll…”

“Talia.” Lyra stepped closer. “We’ll figure it out.”

Talia stopped pacing. “You sound very confident for someone who just described nightmare wolves.”

Lyra shrugged. “I’ve fought worse.”

Talia snorted. “You have not.”

Lyra cracked a small smile. “Okay, maybe not. But we’ll still figure it out.”

Talia’s expression softened. “You always say that, like it is simple.”

“Because it’s true.”

Talia looked away, her voice quieter. “Well, I’m not scared.”

Lyra tilted her head. “Talia.”

Talia sighed. “Okay. Maybe a little.”

Lyra didn’t tease her. She didn’t need to. She could see the fear flickering in Talia’s eyes, the fear she was trying so hard to hide. It was easy for her to see, because she felt it too.

Lyra placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll be careful. Both of us.”

Talia nodded slowly. “We should meet earlier. Before it gets too late. It’s safer.”

Lyra agreed immediately. “Earlier is good.”

“And maybe not every day,” Talia added reluctantly. “Just until we know what’s out there.”

Lyra’s chest tightened, but she nodded. “Right. We will meet every other day, just until then.”

Talia exhaled. “Good. Because if something jumps out of the shadows at night, I’m blaming you.”

Lyra smirked. “I’ll take the blame.”

“You better.”

They stood together in the clearing, the forest darkening around them. The air felt colder now, heavier. The shadows seemed to shift at the edges of Lyra’s vision.

Something was coming. Lyra looked at Talia, her friend, her ally, the one person who understood the impossible position she was in.

“We’ll stay ahead of it,” Lyra said quietly. “Whatever it is.”

Talia nodded, though her hands trembled slightly. “Yeah. We will.”

But as Lyra walked back toward her pack, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her…

Again.