Chapter 134: The Hunters' Attack

The scouting mission never happened.

Kael and his wolves were still hours from the eastern border when they heard the screaming. It drifted through the trees, thin and distant, carried on a wind that smelled of smoke and blood. Kael's heart lurched in his chest. He had heard wolves scream before—in battle, in grief, in the final moments of a life violently ended. But this was different. This was a whole settlement screaming.

"The western camp," Torvin said, his voice tight. "They're attacking the western camp."

Kael didn't hesitate. He turned and ran, his paws pounding against the forest floor, his packmates close behind him. The western camp was smaller than the main settlement, home to perhaps thirty wolves—families with young pups, elderly wolves who couldn't hunt anymore, a few warriors assigned to protect them.

They were vulnerable.

They were alone.

And they were dying.

---

Kael reached the camp as the sun disappeared below the horizon, plunging the world into twilight. The scene before him was chaos. Cabins burned, their flames casting orange light across the clearing. Bodies lay scattered on the ground—wolves who had tried to fight back, wolves who had tried to flee, wolves who had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The attackers were vampires.

Kael had never seen one before, but he recognized them from the stories the elders told. They moved with a fluid grace that no wolf could match, their pale skin gleaming in the firelight, their red eyes glowing with hunger. Some of them had shifted into monstrous forms—creatures of shadow and fang that seemed more nightmare than flesh.

"Spread out," Kael commanded, his voice rough. "Protect the survivors. Drive the vampires back."

His wolves obeyed, fanning out across the camp, engaging the attackers with a fury born of desperation. Kael stayed at the center, searching for any sign of his packmates, any sign of someone who needed help.

That was when he saw the pups.

---

They were huddled behind a burning cabin, four of them, no older than six or seven. Their faces were streaked with tears and soot, and they were clutching each other so tightly that their knuckles had gone white. A vampire was advancing on them, its red eyes fixed on the children with an expression that made Kael's blood run cold.

Kael moved without thinking.

He launched himself at the vampire, his claws extended, his jaws open wide. The creature was faster than he expected, dodging his attack with a fluid twist that sent Kael crashing into the side of the burning cabin. Pain exploded through his shoulder—the same shoulder that Gunnar had wounded—and Kael tasted blood in his mouth.

But he didn't stop.

He scrambled to his feet and charged again, this time aiming for the vampire's legs. His teeth sank into cold flesh, and the creature hissed in pain, its claws raking across Kael's back. The wounds were shallow, but they burned—a strange, searing sensation that had nothing to do with fire.

Kael held on.

He bit down harder, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, ignoring the blood soaking through his fur, ignoring the screams that filled the night air. The vampire thrashed and clawed, trying to dislodge him, but Kael refused to let go.

"Get the pups out of here," he growled at the nearest wolf.

The wolf hesitated.

"NOW!"

The wolf grabbed two of the pups and ran. Another wolf appeared from the shadows, scooping up the remaining children, and together they fled into the forest.

Kael released the vampire and scrambled backward, putting distance between them.

The creature stared at him with those burning red eyes, its leg hanging at an awkward angle. "You fight well for a pup."

"Leave this place," Kael said. "Tell Seraphine that the Northern Pack is not afraid of her."

The vampire laughed—a cold, terrible sound. "We'll see."

---

The battle raged for another hour.

Kael fought beside his wolves, his body moving on instinct, his mind focused on a single goal: protect his pack. He lost track of how many vampires he faced, how many wounds he sustained, how many times he nearly died.

He knew only that the wolves around him were falling, and he couldn't save them all.

Torvin appeared at his side, his old face streaked with blood. "We need to retreat. There are too many."

"We can't leave the survivors."

"We can't save them if we're dead." Torvin grabbed Kael's arm. "Fall back. Regroup. We'll come back at dawn."

Kael wanted to argue, wanted to stay, wanted to fight until every vampire was dead or driven away. But Torvin was right. They were outnumbered, outmatched, and losing wolves by the minute.

"Fall back," Kael commanded, his voice heavy with frustration. "Everyone who can run, run."

The wolves scattered into the forest, carrying the wounded and the young, fleeing the burning camp. Kael stayed at the rear, covering their retreat, his body moving on autopilot even as his mind screamed at him to rest.

A vampire appeared in front of him, blocking his path.

Kael snarled and lunged, but his body was too slow, too tired, too wounded. The vampire caught him mid-air and slammed him into the ground, its claws digging into his chest.

"Kael!"

Torvin's voice was distant, muffled, as if coming from underwater. Kael tried to respond, but his mouth wouldn't work. His vision was blurring at the edges, darkness creeping in from the corners of his eyes.

The vampire raised its hand for the killing blow.

---

A blur of motion.

The vampire was gone, ripped away from Kael with a force that sent it crashing into a burning cabin. Kael blinked, trying to focus, trying to understand what had happened.

A figure stood over him.

Not a wolf. Not a vampire from Seraphine's army. Something else. Something ancient.

The figure turned to face Kael, and he saw its eyes—not red, like the other vampires, but silver, like moonlight on water. It studied him for a moment, its expression unreadable, and then it spoke.

"Run."

Kael didn't argue.

He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the burning pain in his chest, and fled into the forest. Behind him, he heard the sounds of battle—the screaming of vampires, the clash of claws on claws, the roar of flames consuming the camp.

He didn't look back.

---

Kael ran until his legs gave out, until his chest burned with every breath, until the world around him dissolved into a haze of pain and exhaustion. He collapsed at the base of a large oak, his body trembling, his mind reeling.

The silver-eyed vampire had saved him.

Why?

Torvin found him an hour later, his old face pale with worry. "Kael. Thank the moon. I thought you were dead."

"I should be."

"What happened? The vampire—I saw someone attack it, but I couldn't see who."

Kael closed his eyes. "I don't know."

---

The survivors gathered at the main settlement as dawn broke over the mountains. Kael counted them—too few, too many lost, too many families destroyed. The western camp was gone, burned to the ground, and with it, a dozen wolves who had trusted the pack to protect them.

Selene met him at the gate, her storm-gray eyes wide with fear. When she saw the blood soaking through his clothes, she rushed to his side, her hands already glowing with healing magic.

"You're hurt."

"I'll survive."

"The others?"

Kael shook his head. "We lost too many."

Selene's face crumpled, but she didn't cry. She just guided him toward the healers' tent, her grip steady on his arm, her magic flowing into his wounds.

"Who saved you?" she asked quietly.

Kael hesitated. "A vampire."

Selene stopped walking.

"A vampire?"

"I've never seen one like it. Its eyes were silver, not red. And it fought the other vampires—killed them, drove them back." Kael met his mother's gaze. "Why would a vampire save me?"

Selene was quiet for a long moment. "I don't know."

But her eyes held something—a flicker of recognition, perhaps, or a memory of something she had seen in her visions.

"Mother?"

"I said I don't know." Selene resumed walking. "Rest now. The answers can wait."

---

Kael lay in the healers' tent, staring at the canvas ceiling, replaying the battle in his mind. He had faced vampires for the first time, had seen his packmates die, had nearly died himself.

And a mysterious vampire with silver eyes had saved him.

Why?

He thought about the hybrid woman, about the prophecy, about the war that was coming. He thought about his mother's visions, the warnings she had tried to give him, the future she had seen.

Everything was connected.

He just didn't know how.

Kael closed his eyes and prayed for sleep.

The dreams came quickly—images of silver eyes and burning cabins and a woman with golden hair who reached for him across an impossible distance.

He didn't wake until dawn.