89 – The Ambush
89 – The Ambush
Kael’s POV
The forest was silent in the way that always made Kael’s instincts sharpen — not peaceful silence, but the kind that held its breath before a strike.
The moon glinted off the edges of spears and the wet sheen of blades as Nightclaw and Moonfang warriors waited in the shadows. Every muscle in Kael’s body was tense, as he crouched behind the cover of a boulder. Elias stood to his right, gaze fixed on the trail where the rogues would appear.
“Scouts say the first wave is moving into position,” Elias murmured, voice low enough to be swallowed by the night.
Kael gave a short nod. This was it. The plan had been simple on parchment but would be chaos in the dirt: lure the main rogue force down the narrow trail, cut them off at both ends, then force them toward the center where the bulk of his warriors would be waiting. Moonfang’s archers, positioned along the ridge, would pick off stragglers before they could retreat.
It had been risky striking early, but the intel from their unexpected ally had confirmed it — the rogues were moving, gathering for one last strike. Better to hit them before they were ready.
Across the ridge, Kael caught sight of Alpha Theron, his tall, broad form barely visible in the dark. The Moonfang Alpha gave a short nod, the closest thing to agreement Kael would get from him.
“Positions,” Kael ordered softly, and the warriors melted into the shadows.
For a heartbeat, the world was still.
Then, faint at first, came the sound — the crunch of boots on the ground and rogue voices.
Kael’s wolf bristled inside him, a low growl vibrating through his chest.
The first rogue stepped onto the trail, unaware of the trap. Then another. And another.
Kael waited until their numbers swelled, his warriors silent around him.
“Now,” he breathed.
The forest erupted.
From both ends, Nightclaw and Moonfang warriors surged forward. Arrows whistled from above, dropping the front ranks before they could react. Kael moved like shadow and flame, his blade finding its mark with each strike. The rogues snarled and fought back, but the ambush had torn through their formation.
The trap was working.
Elias was a blur beside him, cutting down a rogue who lunged for Kael’s blind side. Finn’s wolf form tore through another, his dark coat slick with frost and blood.
They were pushing the rogues back, driving them into the center kill zone—
—when the air shifted.
Kael’s wolf snapped its head toward the treeline just as a second wave of rogues spilled out from the shadows. Twice as many as they’d anticipated.
“Shit,” Elias hissed.
The rogues hit their flank hard, forcing Kael’s warriors to turn and defend. The perfect trap was unraveling into chaos.
“Hold formation!” Kael’s voice cut through the clash of steel. He pivoted, intercepting a massive rogue who swung a spiked mace at his head. The impact jolted through his arm as their weapons met, and Kael drove his blade up through the rogue’s ribcage.
The battle dissolved into a storm of snarls, steel, and blood. The rogues fought like cornered animals, and for the first time that night, Kael felt the balance shift against them.
Somewhere in the madness, A searing pain ripped across his side as a blade slipped past his guard. Kael gritted his teeth, twisting to drive his elbow into his attacker’s jaw before slamming the hilt of his sword into the rogue’s temple.
It’s nothing, he lied to himself.
The truth was the cut was deep — he could feel the warm gush of blood soaking his clothes. His wolf snarled at him to keep moving, to keep fighting.
Through the chaos, Kael caught sight of him — the rogue leader. Tall, scarred, with cold eyes that glinted in the moonlight. The one who’d escaped them before.
Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the noise of battle faded to nothing.
Kael lunged.
The rogue leader met his strike with brutal strength, their blades clashing in a shower of sparks. Kael pressed forward, each strike aimed to end it — to end him.
But the leader was fast, sidestepping at the last second and ramming a shoulder into Kael’s injured side. Pain exploded through him, and his vision flickered.
“Kael!” Elias’s voice was distant over the roar of blood in his ears.
The leader grinned — a cold, promise-filled thing — and melted back into the chaos.
Kael staggered but forced himself upright, parrying another blow from a rogue who rushed him. He had no choice but to fight his way back toward his warriors, every movement dragging more blood from the wound.
“Fall back!” he bellowed.
It was messy, but the order cut through the chaos. The warriors regrouped, retreating toward the northern ridge where their healers waited. Moonfang’s archers covered their withdrawal, sending volleys into the rogues pressing forward.
By the time they broke free of the gulley, Kael’s legs felt like lead.
The rogues didn’t go far — the leader clearly had other plans. But the message was clear: they weren’t broken yet.
Kael collapsed to one knee once they reached the treeline. Elias was there instantly, catching him before he hit the ground.
“You’re bleeding out, Kael.”
“Not… yet,” Kael ground out, pushing himself upright again. He couldn’t collapse here. Not in front of both packs.
But the look on Elias’s face told him he wasn’t hiding the truth well.
When they finally reached the healer’s camp, Aria was already there, shoving her way past two startled guards. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him, her hands instantly going to his blood-soaked side.
“What the hell?” Her voice trembled with fury and fear.
“That we couldn’t let him escape again,” Kael said hoarsely.
Aria pressed her hand harder against the wound, her wolf glowing faintly behind her eyes. “You almost died, Kael.”
He caught her wrist, holding her gaze despite the pain. “But I didn’t. And I won’t — not while you’re here.”
Her throat worked, but she didn’t answer, focusing on stopping the bleeding instead.
Somewhere behind them, Theron’s voice was sharp, already barking orders to his warriors. Elias and Finn were speaking in low tones about the rogue leader’s retreat.
Kael’s thoughts were already spinning ahead. The ambush hadn’t been a victory — not really. The leader was alive, the rogues were stronger than they’d thought, and the element of surprise was gone.
This was going to be harder than he’d planned.
Much harder.