Chapter 84: The Hunt (1)

Kaelen's POV

The map spread across the long oak table showed three red marks. Three attacks. Three calculated strikes against Frostpine's outer territories.

I traced my finger along the border. "They're testing us."

Lucian stood opposite me, arms crossed. His gray eyes studied the marks like they were chess pieces. "Third attack was less than five kilometers from the core. They're getting bolder."

"Or desperate." I tapped the lake marked in blue ink. "Double the patrols here. Eastern forest and—"

Pain.

Not mine.

It slammed into my chest like a fist through bone. The bond flared white-hot, searing through every nerve.

Terror. Grief. Rage.

All of it pouring through the connection. All of it hers.

The chair scraped back as I stood. Too fast. It toppled with a crash that echoed through the hall.

My hands hit the table. Fingers splayed. Breathing ragged.

"Alpha?" Lucian's voice seemed far away.

The bond pulsed again. Stronger. Clearer.

Not fear. Not exactly.

Fury. Broken. Drowning in it.

I was moving before I registered the decision.

The hall blurred past. Stone walls. Wooden beams. Pack members jumping aside.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears. Each pulse matched the agony flooding through the bond.

Images flashed. Isolde's body. Cold. Still. Blood on white snow.

No.

Not again.

Never again.

Lucian's footsteps pounded behind me. "What's happening?!"

I didn't answer. Couldn't.

The bond screamed louder.

I burst through the door to the small garden.

Empty.

The rose arbor cast shadows across abandoned stone benches. A book lay open, pages fluttering in the breeze.

She'd been here. Minutes ago. Maybe less.

"Seraphine!"

My voice bounced off the hedges. No answer.

The bond twisted tighter. Pain layered with something worse.

Desperation.

The wolf surged inside me. Instinct overriding thought.

She's hurt.

She needs us.

My eyes snapped toward the forest. Toward the lake.

There.

I vaulted the low fence. Lucian shouted something. I didn't hear it.

The grass blurred beneath my feet—young spring blades still wet with morning dew. Each stride covered twice what a human could manage. Three times. Early crocuses crushed under my boots, purple petals scattering.

Blood.

The scent hit me halfway across the field. Metallic. Fresh.

Then another smell. Male. Unfamiliar.

Cold fir and stone. Ravencrest territory.

The same scent from the three attacks.

My vision flickered. Gold bled into the edges.

The wolf pushed harder. Demanding control.

Not yet.

Trees loomed ahead—birches just beginning to bud, their white bark stark against the pale sky. Branches rustled. Something crashed through the underbrush.

A scream split the air.

Female. Young.

Then silence.

Wrong. Everything about this was wrong.

I hit the tree line at a dead run. Newly sprouted ferns whipped past. Thorns tore at my clothes. The air smelled of thawing earth and pine sap.

The smell of blood grew stronger.

So did the sound of fighting.

I crashed through a final wall of brush.

And stopped.

Ten meters away, a small body lay crumpled on the forest floor.

A child. Maybe ten years old. She lay face-up, a massive wound torn through her chest—claws had driven straight through from back to front. Blood pooled beneath her, still spreading dark across the moss and dead leaves.

Dead.

My gaze snapped left.

Seraphine.

Her plain dress hung in tatters. Blood streaked her arms, her shoulder, her ribs. The fabric barely covered her. Her auburn hair had come loose from its braid, wild and tangled with leaves.

But she was moving.

Running.

Straight toward a tall man in gray. His hands were still red. Still dripping.

The killer.

Seraphine's eyes burned pure gold. Not flickering. Not shifting.

Solid. Blazing.

Tears carved tracks through the blood on her face.

"I'll kill you!" Her voice cracked. Raw. Broken. "You murdered her! She was just a child!"

To the right, Cordelia fought three attackers. Blood ran from her temple. Her movements were slowing.

One of the men broke away. Darted toward Seraphine's exposed back.

Silver flashed in his hand.

A blade. Aimed at her spine.

Less than a meter away.

I moved.

Not thought. Not choice.

Pure reaction.

My boot connected with his chest. Ribs shattered under the impact. He flew backward, hit an oak tree hard enough to crack bark. Slid down into a patch of early snowdrops, their white blooms stained red.

Didn't move again.

I spread my arms. Blocking Seraphine's path.

"Stop!"

She didn't hear me. Didn't see me.

Just tried to go around.

I caught her waist. Pulled her back.

She exploded.

Nails raked across my forearm. Drawing blood. Her teeth snapped at my shoulder.

"Let me go!" The scream tore out of her. "He killed her! Let me fucking go!"

I held on. Even as claws dug deeper. Even as her teeth found skin.

"Seraphine! Look at me!"

"She had no one!" Tears and blood mixed on her face. "She died protecting me! I have to—"

No choice left.

I let the wolf rise.

Alpha power flooded out. Not controlled. Not measured.

Everything.

My eyes blazed gold. Both of them. The genetic anomaly that marked me as different.

The roar that came out wasn't human.

"ENOUGH!"

The sound rolled through the forest like thunder. Like an earthquake made of will. Birds exploded from the trees. The budding branches trembled.

Every wolf froze.

Cordelia's attacker stumbled back. His companion dropped his guard.

The gray-clad killer who'd murdered the child went rigid.

And Seraphine—

Her movements stuttered. Stopped.

The gold in her eyes flickered. Dimmed slightly.

Awareness crept back in.

Her body began to shake.

"That eye—" One of the attackers, a scarred man built like a mountain, stared at me. His weathered face went pale. "That's... the double pupil."

Recognition. Fear.

"Conrad!" He barked at the others. "We're leaving! Now!"

The gray-clad killer stepped back from the child's body. They all turned. Bolted into the forest with inhuman speed, disappearing between the white birches.

Cordelia tried to follow. Her leg buckled. "Don't let them escape!"

I should chase them.

Should hunt them down.

But Seraphine collapsed in my arms.

Her sobs came in broken gasps. Her whole body trembled like she'd shatter. Her skin was ice-cold despite the mild spring air.

I carried her to an old cedar. Set her down gently against the trunk. Patches of snow still clung to the shadowed roots.

My coat came off. I wrapped it around her shoulders. Covered the torn dress. The blood. The wounds.

Her fingers locked around my wrist. Desperate. Clinging.

"Don't leave me."

The words barely made sound.

I leaned down. Pressed my forehead to hers.

"I won't go far."

But I stood.

Turned toward where they'd vanished into the budding forest.

Gold still burned in my vision. The wolf still demanded blood.

One by one, I spoke each word clearly.

Cold. Final.

"None of them escape."