Chapter 62 When Old Wounds Bleed
The cottage seemed to shrink around them the moment Moira uttered his name.
Silas.
The syllables crawled through Derek's mind like cold iron being pressed into old wounds. The shadows on the walls trembled with the candle flames, but nothing shook more than the breath he forced past his teeth. Amanda felt it. The tight coil in him. The tremor he fought to hide.
Moira placed the parchment on the table. "The vision was clear. If we want to rebuild the ancient seal, the corrupted soul has to be him."
Derek's jaw clenched. "He's betrayed me twice." His voice was low, like stone grinding against stone. "Twice, Moira. He tried to kill me. Bound my wolf. Lied to my face for years." He shook his head slowly. "Why would I trust him a third time?"
Amanda hesitated, then stepped closer. She could still feel the grief of the day's losses weighing on her chest, but she pushed through it. "Because people can change," she said gently. "Because somewhere inside him, your friend still exists. And because..." Her voice softened. "We don't have a choice."
Derek didn't turn toward her, but she saw the flicker in his eyes. Recognition. Fear. The ache of betrayal still lodged deep. He looked at Moira again. "You're certain?"
Moira nodded. "The prophecy demands three elements. An Alpha reborn. A curse-breaker of the forgotten bloodline. And a soul corrupted by darkness but capable of choosing light." Her gaze dropped for a moment. "Silas fits the last piece. No one else does."
Silence lingered like smoke.
Amanda reached for Derek's hand. He didn't pull away. "This isn't about trusting him blindly," she said softly. "It's about giving him one chance. One. If he refuses, if he turns against us, we'll handle it. Together."
His jaw loosened just a fraction. He met her eyes at last, the storm inside him shifting. "You're asking me to walk back into the fire that burned me."
"I'm asking you to believe we can put it out."
For a moment, neither of them breathed. Then Derek exhaled sharply and nodded once. A decision made not because he wanted to, but because he had to.
"All right," he said. "We search for Silas."
Amanda's relief came with a knot of fear. She squeezed his hand once before letting go. "I'll stay here. Nightfang needs defenses strengthened."
"I know," Derek said. "I'll take a small team. Cassius. Riley. And someone who can track him."
As if summoned by the very thought, there was a knock at the doorway.
A man stepped inside. Broad shouldered, wearing a battered leather coat patched with old claw marks. His dark hair was tied back, and a thin scar ran along his jaw. Eyes sharp. Unblinking.
"I hear you're looking for Silas," he said simply.
Derek's posture stiffened. "Who are you?"
"Pierce." The man nodded once. "Rogue hunter. I track wolves who don't want to be found."
His gaze flicked to Moira. "She summoned me."
Moira lifted a hand. "He knows Silas's habits. He can help you."
Pierce crossed his arms. "Last I heard, Silas was hiding in the Shadowlands. Even rogues avoid that place now. It's crawling with corrupted wolves."
Derek stared Pierce down. "Can you get us there?"
"I can get you close," Pierce said. "Whether you survive the rest, that's on you."
Amanda stepped forward, concern etched across her face. "Derek, the Shadowlands..."
He brushed his knuckles against her cheek. A brief, steadying touch. "I'll be back."
"You'd better be."
They left at dawn.
Amanda watched from the gates as Derek led the small team into the forest. His shoulders were squared, his steps steady, but she could see the tension in the way his hands curled at his sides. The weight of the prophecy, the pack, and his past rode with him.
When the trees swallowed them, the ache in her chest flared. Fear. Hope. And something deeper.
Clarissa touched her arm carefully. "He'll return."
Amanda nodded, not trusting her voice.
Then she turned back to her duties. Nightfang needed her. Defenses needed strengthening. And her power, however tired, still had work to do.
The forest darkened the deeper they went. Trees twisted into unnatural shapes. Branches hung low like skeletal fingers. Pierce moved with confidence, barely glancing back as Derek and the others followed.
"This corruption," Riley muttered, scanning the shadows. "It's worse than the stories."
Pierce grunted. "The Nightbringer's influence spreads faster every day. Packs are falling. Losing themselves."
Derek's gaze sharpened. "Losing themselves how?"
"You'll see."
They didn't wait long.
The first corrupted wolves lunged from the underbrush with snarls that didn't sound fully alive. Their eyes glowed a sickly violet. Their fur patchy, skin cracked with black veins pulsing like roots. They moved fast. Too fast.
Cassius shifted mid-air, colliding with one wolf in a crash of fur and teeth. Riley followed, ripping another from Derek's flank. Derek didn't shift. His control kept his wolf contained until the right moment. But he fought with brutal precision, claws extended, eyes flashing with silver light.
Pierce cut down one wolf with a silver-edged blade, not even flinching as black blood splattered the ground.
The fight was fast but violent. When the last corrupted wolf lay twitching on the forest floor, Derek stood over it, breathing hard.
"They're not wolves anymore," he said quietly.
"No," Pierce agreed. "This is what happens when you let darkness claim you. It eats everything left."
Derek stared at the corpse, something cold settling inside him. "Silas could have ended up like this."
Pierce didn't sugarcoat it. "He still might."
Derek said nothing, but the thought followed him through the trees like a ghost.
By nightfall, the forest changed again. Colors drained into grays. Even the air felt thick, heavy. A faint vibration hummed beneath their feet, like the land itself was poisoned.
"The border," Pierce said quietly. "Shadowlands start here."
Riley sniffed the air and winced. "Smells like rot and fear."
Derek stepped forward. "Lead on."
As they walked deeper, the trees thinned into a clearing filled with old dens. Most were half-collapsed, claw marks shredded into the stone. A faint trail of dark residue clung to the ground, like dried veins of poison.
Cassius crouched, touching the dirt. "This is fresh."
Pierce nodded. "He's close. But so is something else. Stay alert."
They moved in silence. The moon a thin white sliver above them. Derek felt the land pressing on him, like it recognized the power in his blood and recoiled.
A faint sound broke the stillness. A low, ragged breathing.
Pierce halted, raising a hand. "There."
One den, deeper than the rest, gaped open like a mouth carved into the earth. From inside came the steady scrape of claws against stone.
Derek stepped forward before anyone could stop him.
"Derek," Cassius warned. "Let us go first."
"No." Derek's voice was steady. "If he's still himself, he'll recognize me. If he's not..." He flexed his hands, silver light rippling beneath his skin. "I can handle it."
He ducked inside.
The den smelled of damp earth and something fouler. Dark magic, decay, and pain woven together. The deeper he walked, the narrower the walls became. The breathing grew louder.
Then Derek saw him.
Silas crouched in the far corner. Half-human, half-corrupted. His skin was threaded with black veins that pulsed like something alive beneath the surface. His hair hung in filthy strands. One eye was normal. A deep, familiar brown. The other glowed with the same violet corruption as the wolves outside.
Chains lay broken on the floor beside him, as if he'd tried to restrain himself and failed.
Silas lifted his head slowly.
For a moment, his human eye widened in something like shock. Then he laughed. Dry. Broken. Bitter.
"Well," he rasped, "if it isn't the Alpha I tried so hard to ruin."
Derek didn't flinch.
Silas's smile twisted. "Come to kill me? Please do." He pressed a shaking hand against his chest, where the veins pulsed violently. "Every day I hold this thing back is agony."
Derek stepped closer, ignoring Cassius and Riley tensing behind him.
"I didn't come to kill you," Derek said quietly. "I came to offer you a chance at redemption.”