Chapter Sixty-Two: Shadows
Chapter Sixty-Two: Shadows
The day after Nareen’s quiet revelation, Rainfall’s yard bristled with tension. Warriors moved in tight formation, eyes flicking to the treeline as if they expected it to reach out and strike.
By midmorning, the scouting party returned — their steps quick, their eyes shadowed. David met them in the square. Faith watched from the balcony, the wind pulling strands of hair into her face as the leader of the scouts began to speak.
“They’re no longer hiding,” the man said. “We tracked them to the river pass — at least fifty more than last time we counted. Orell colors flying.”
David’s expression was carved from stone. “How far?”
“Two days if they keep their pace. Less if they push under the moon.”
Faith’s stomach tightened. The river pass wasn’t far from an allied pack — the Cedar Fang wolves — a small but capable group that had fought alongside Rainfall once before.
David turned to his brother, his voice brisk. “Daniel. You ride to Cedar Fang before nightfall. Take three guards. Tell them we’ll have the river pass surrounded if they move quickly.”
Daniel nodded once. “And if they hesitate?”
“Remind them that if Rainfall pack falls, they’re next.”
Faith leaned on the balcony rail, watching Daniel clasp David’s forearm before disappearing into the stables. It felt wrong, sending him out when the Orell were moving in numbers, but she knew why David had chosen him — Daniel could talk his way into alliances better than any other wolf in the pack.
Still, the unease didn’t leave her.
By the time night settled over Rainfall, the wind carried a strange heaviness. Faith sat in her chamber, the low firelight painting the walls, but her wolf paced beneath her skin, restless.
She rose, crossing to the window. The Blood Moon had passed its peak, but its red hue still lingered in the sky, bleeding into the horizon. Somewhere out there, Daniel was riding hard toward Cedar Fang. Somewhere closer, Divine’s wolves were waiting.
The feeling came first — a weight on the air, a prickle at the back of her neck. Then the sound.
A howl — not distant, not part of the usual night chorus. It was close. Too close.
Faith’s hand went to the dagger she kept in the folds of her cloak, her pulse already climbing. She stepped onto the balcony, scanning the shadows that clung to the tree line just beyond the Alpha Hall.
At first she saw nothing. Then, between the dark shapes of the pines, eyes caught the firelight. Not yellow. Not gold. Silver.
Her breath caught.
The eyes didn’t blink, didn’t move — they simply watched.
“David,” she whispered, but he wasn’t in the room. He’d gone to oversee the night patrol.
Faith backed toward the door, her wolf pressing at her skin. Every instinct screamed that turning her back would be a mistake. She kept her gaze on the trees until she slipped into the hall.
Two guards stood outside her chamber. Both straightened at the sight of her.
“There’s something out there,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “In the trees. Watching.”
One guard moved toward the balcony immediately, the other slipping away to alert David. Faith waited, her ears catching every creak and sigh of the hall’s timbers.
The first guard returned moments later, shaking his head. “Nothing now. Whatever it was, it’s gone.”
Faith didn’t believe that.
David arrived in under a minute, his eyes sharp. “Tell me.”
She did — the stillness, the silver eyes, the unbroken stare.
His jaw tightened. “Divine.”
The name landed heavy between them.
“She’s not striking yet,” he said. “She’s testing us. Watching the walls. Letting us know she can get close.”
“And if she can get close to the Hall…”
“She won’t,” he cut in, his voice a low growl. “Not while I’m here.”
He doubled the patrol routes that night, posted two extra guards at every entrance to the Alpha Hall, and stationed one beneath Faith’s window.
But even with the measures in place, Faith felt the weight of that gaze long after the silver eyes had vanished. Divine wasn’t hiding her presence anymore. She wanted Faith to know she was near.
Faith sat by the fire until the first light of dawn crept through the shutters, her hand never straying far from her dagger.
In the distance, the wolves of Rainfall howled to greet the morning. But Faith couldn’t shake the sound of the lone howl from the night before — low, deliberate, and meant for her ears alone.
Somewhere in the shadows, Divine’s game had already begun.