Chapter 86: Blood Message

Kaelen's POV

The blade arced toward my back. Slow. So fucking slow. My double pupils caught every detail—the trembling in Conrad's grip, the dark poison coating the steel, the desperate rage twisting his face.

I twisted sideways. My hand shot out and caught the blade three inches from my spine. The edge bit into my palm, blood seeping between my fingers as I held it steady. Conrad's eyes went wide, his mouth opening in shock.

"You buried your last chance at survival." My voice came out flat, dead. I yanked the knife from his grip and tossed it aside, watching it clatter against a moss-covered stone.

His mouth opened, started to form words—probably another plea. My boot slammed down on his chest before he could speak. Ribs cracked under the impact. He screamed. I bent down, my fingers closing around his shattered right arm at the elbow joint.

"You chose this."

Then I pulled. The arm tore free from the shoulder socket, tendons snapping like overstretched rope. The joint gave way with a wet pop that echoed through the clearing. Blood sprayed across the moss, across my legs, across the young aspens just starting to bud.

Conrad's scream split the forest. Birds exploded from nearby trees, their wings beating frantically. I dropped the severed limb beside him. It landed with a dull thump, fingers still curled slightly. His remaining hand clutched at the ruined shoulder, blood pouring between his fingers.

"Please..." The word came out gargled, choked.

I didn't answer. Just stepped over him, my bare feet leaving bloody prints. Behind me—wet gasping, the sound of Conrad trying to drag himself away with one arm. Pathetic.

I reached the body of the man whose spine I'd broken. His neck was bent at an impossible angle, face pressed into the moss. Clean break. Fast death. More mercy than he deserved.

Movement in the trees to my left. The third man stumbled back into the clearing, his face pale as moonlight. His eyes locked on Conrad's writhing form.

"Holy fuck. Holy—"

I moved. Three strides. My hand closed around his throat, fingers digging into soft flesh. His windpipe collapsed under my grip. I twisted. Sharp crack. His body went limp. I let him drop.

I turned back to Conrad. He'd managed to crawl maybe five feet, leaving a long smear of blood across the moss. His legs kicked weakly, his remaining arm clawing at tree roots.

I walked over and picked up the poisoned blade. Crouched beside him.

"You had one job. Deliver a message to Damien."

"Please..." Blood bubbled from his lips. "I'll do it. I'll—"

"Too late." I drove the blade into his heart. Quick. Clean.

He gasped once. His body convulsed as the poison worked fast, muscles seizing. Then stillness.

I stood and looked down at the three corpses. The afternoon sun slanted through the aspens, making the blood look almost black against the green moss. Not enough. Damien needed to understand.

The other two had escaped during the chaos. Let them run. Let them tell Damien what happened here. But these three—these would be my message.

I grabbed Conrad's ankle. The white wolf would be faster. The shift came quick—bones cracked, muscles reformed. I bit down on Conrad's leg, tasting copper and dirt, and started moving.

The forest blurred past. My claws left deep gouges in soft earth. The blood trail behind me stretched long and dark. North. Toward the Shadowmere border. The scent of pine grew stronger. The trees changed—more spruce now, fewer aspens.

Twenty minutes of running brought me to the border. Old stone cairns marked the boundary, moss-covered and half-buried. I dropped Conrad's body and shifted back to human form. The spring afternoon air bit at my skin but I barely felt it.

I looked around. A cluster of oak trees stood thirty feet past the border stones, their branches just beginning to leaf out. Perfect. Anyone crossing from Ravencrest territory would see this first.

I grabbed a fallen branch and used it to clear the underbrush around the oaks. Made the area visible. Then went back for Conrad's body and dragged it to the center oak.

I searched the corpses. Found thick leather straps on one of them—probably meant to bind Seraphine. Good. They'd serve a different purpose now. The rough leather scraped my palms as I worked, binding Conrad's corpse to the trunk. Arms spread wide, legs bound at the ankles. Crucifixion style. His head lolled forward, blood still dripping from his empty shoulder socket.

Not dramatic enough. I went back for the other two bodies. Dragged them here one at a time. Tied the second to the oak on the right. The third I propped against the tree on the left, his broken neck making the positioning difficult.

Blood pooled at the roots of all three trees. The smell of copper and death hung thick. Still not enough.

I picked up the poisoned blade. Crouched in front of Conrad's body. Started carving. The blade cut deep, through skin, through muscle. Each stroke deliberate. Letters formed slowly across his chest.

"TRESPASS ON SHADOWMERE—THIS IS YOUR FATE"

The words stretched from collarbone to sternum. Dark red lines oozed across pale flesh. I moved to the second body. Carved on his back.

"DAMIEN—I'M WAITING"

Then I stood back, wiping blood from my hands. The message was clear. Brutal. But still missing something.

I walked to the center oak, pressing my palm against Conrad's wounds until blood coated my skin. Then I reached up and drew on the trunk above his head. My symbol. Twin circles for the double pupils, surrounded by the outline of a wolf's head. The Shadowmere Alpha's mark.

Let there be no confusion about who did this.

I stepped back. The three corpses hung in the fading light, blood tracked down the oak trunks. The carved words stood out stark and red. The smell would carry for miles once decomposition set in. Perfect.

I turned away. Started walking back toward Shadowmere proper, my feet leaving bloody prints on the forest floor. The prints of a man, not a wolf. I wanted them to know this was personal.

The bond pulled at my chest. Sharp. Insistent. Seraphine. The rage that had fueled me for the last hour suddenly drained away, leaving me hollow. Empty.

I'd killed them. Sent the message. But the child was still dead. Cordelia was still injured. And Seraphine...

The bond twisted, her pain echoing through it. Muted now but still there. My chest tightened. I'd chosen to protect her. Chosen to make her pack. And because of that choice—because of me—a child had died.

The wolf inside me snarled. She's ours. We protect what's ours. Damien threatened her. He needed to learn. But the human part—the Alpha part that carried responsibility for every life in this territory—that part felt the weight. The cost pressed down on my shoulders.

I kept walking, my pace quickening. The bond pulsed, urged me faster. Back to her. Back to make sure she was alive. Whole. The sun sank lower. By the time I reached the clearing where I'd left Lucian, full darkness had fallen. Moonlight filtered through new leaves.

The scent of blood still hung heavy. But Seraphine's scent was fading—they'd moved her. Good. Lucian had followed orders.

I shifted one more time, letting the wolf carry me home faster. My muscles burned with exhaustion, every stride pulling at strained tendons. But I pushed harder, the pack house lights glowing through the trees ahead.

The bond sang. "Soon. Almost there."