Chapter 97: The Reckoning

Chapter 97: The Reckoning
Snow soaked into the knees of my trousers as I dropped beside the twisted edge of blood.

I pressed my hand into the churned ground, searching for any sign of direction. Prints overlapped, deep and jagged, broken by the weight of a body dragged, not walked. Blood trailed like a broken thread, weaving between the trees ahead.

I followed it.

Branches clawed at my coat. The wind howled higher as I climbed the ridge, cold snapping at my skin like a warning. My pulse was loud in my ears. I barely felt the gash along my upper arm anymore. The pain had folded in on itself, devoured by something sharper.

Roran was gone.

He had been beside me, moving like we were made of the same thought, the same breath, and now the world felt hollow without him. The absence of his presence made the air wrong.

I ran harder.

The scent of iron deepened. I caught it on the back of my tongue. Blood, yes, but also smoke. Burnt fur. Something dying.

Not far.

Please, not far.

The trail ended at a split in the ridge. A small outcropping half-hidden behind a fallen pine, limbs snapped and blackened by old fire. I slowed, stepping quietly now, every sense stretched thin. The silence was too complete. Not still. Waiting.

And then I saw him.

Crushed beneath the bent trunk, Roran lay half-curled on his side, blood soaking the snow beneath him. His coat was torn. One leg twisted at an unnatural angle. His chest rose in uneven bursts, breath rattling in his throat.

I fell to my knees.

“Roran.”

His eyes opened, barely. Focused. Then slid closed again.

I pressed my hands to his chest. “Stay with me. Look at me.”

He exhaled through clenched teeth.

“I’m here,” I whispered. “I’ve got you.”

A rustle to my right.

My head snapped up.

From the brush, a figure moved. Slow. Calculated.

Not one of ours.

A rogue.

His eyes gleamed yellow, sickly with fury. Blood coated one side of his face. A jagged blade hung from his hand, dripping.

He had followed the trail. Not to escape.

To finish.

I reached for my weapon.

Too slow.

He lunged.

I stepped in front of Roran without thinking.

The blade swung.

I twisted, caught it across the side of my arm again. Fire lit through my bones. My blade clattered to the snow. I kicked out hard, catching the rogue’s shin. He stumbled, but not far. Not enough.

I could hear Roran breathing behind me. Each sound was shallower than the last.

The rogue advanced again.

And I felt it.

Something inside me snapped.

It wasn’t fear.

It was the memory of losing Kael, the sound of his last breath, the silence that had followed me since. It was Talon’s small, warm hands. It was the way Roran had held him like he was already family. It was the firelight in his eyes the night we danced, the way he never once looked away from my grief.

It was the sound of a body being taken from me again.

And I would not survive another one.

Heat slammed through my chest. My skin burned.

I screamed.

Not a human sound.

My hands hit the ground.

The shift took me fast.

My bones cracked. My spine split. Pain surged through me, sharp and raw, every nerve lit with the heat of the old self I had locked away. My breath vanished. My vision blurred.

And then the world came back sharp.

I stood on four legs.

The cold hit my teeth as I snarled.

My wolf had not forgotten.

She surged forward with a fury that tasted like vengeance and something deeper. I tore into the rogue’s shoulder, teeth finding flesh and ripping. He screamed, swinging wildly, but I was already behind him, jaws clamping around the back of his neck.

He buckled.

I didn’t stop.

My claws raked down his back. My weight landed atop him. He howled once before my teeth closed again.

Silence fell.

Heavy. Final.

The snow absorbed it.

I stood panting over the body.

Blood dripped from my muzzle. My legs trembled. But my heart still beat, strong and unrelenting.

Behind me, Roran groaned.

I turned.

He was trying to push himself upright. I crossed to him in two strides and nudged his shoulder gently, letting him know I was there. He slumped back.

“Wolf,” he muttered, voice thick with pain. “Of course.”

I leaned down and licked his cheek once.

He laughed, broken and low.

“I’m not going to die. Not if you’re still snarling like that.”

I stepped back and shifted.

The pain returned in a rush, but I didn’t fight it.

I collapsed beside him in the snow, chest heaving. My limbs shook. My skin felt like it didn’t fit right. But I was here.

Human again.

And alive.

“I’ll get help,” I said, voice hoarse.

He caught my wrist.

“You can’t carry me.”

“You don’t weigh that much.”

“You’re bleeding too.”

“I don’t care.”

He closed his eyes.

I looked at his leg. The angle was wrong. Badly broken. And there was a deep slice down his side, still bleeding slowly, the blood dark now, thick and cold.

I tore my cloak and wrapped it tight around his torso, tying it firm against the wound. My fingers slipped in blood more than once.

When I was done, I braced his shoulder.

“We’re going to move.”

“You shift again,” he said, breath catching, “you’ll black out.”

“Then I’ll crawl.”

He turned his face toward me. His hand reached up, brushed my cheek.

“You shifted for me.”

The words made my throat close.

“I hadn’t since Kael,” I whispered.

“I know.”

He didn’t smile. But his eyes told me everything.

“Why now?” he asked.

“Because I couldn’t lose you too.”

His fingers curled around mine.

I lifted him slowly. He groaned through his teeth, but didn’t cry out. I wrapped one of his arms over my shoulder, supported his weight with mine, and began walking.

The snow was deeper now. The wind harder.

But he was breathing.

And I would not stop.

Not for anything.