Chapter Fifty-Eight: Teeth at the Door

Chapter Fifty-Eight: Teeth at the Door
The first howl split the night like a blade.

Faith jerked awake before David’s hand even touched her arm, the hair on her arms already standing on end. The sound wasn’t a Rainfall call it was lower, stretched, threaded with a hunger that set her wolf’s teeth on edge.

“Gear up,” David said, already pulling on his jacket. His voice was all Alpha now, clipped and dangerous.

They were outside in moments, boots crunching over frost-hardened dirt. The wind carried the unmistakable scent of strangers wolves, not yet shifted, but close. And beneath it, blood. Fresh.

The alarm bell in the square rang out, the sharp clang echoing off the wooden homes. Warriors spilled into the street, some half-dressed, some already armed.

“They’ve breached the east gate,” a breathless young sentry called, his eyes wide. “They came through the smoke we didn’t see them until…”

David didn’t wait for the rest. He turned to Faith. “Stay behind the front line and if the fighting breaks…”

“I’m not staying behind,” she cut in. “Not tonight.”

They didn’t have time to argue. The east gate was already a snarl of growls and clashing steel by the time they reached it. Orell wolves in dark leather moved through the shadows like water, their speed brutal, their strikes precise.

Faith drew her blade, the silver glint catching torchlight. Her first opponent lunged from the side too fast for a human to follow but her wolf surged forward in time, twisting her body so the blade caught the attacker’s ribs. He went down hard, snarling, blood steaming in the cold.

Another came at her before she could breathe, this one in wolf form, teeth snapping for her throat. She sidestepped, driving her dagger into the meat of his shoulder, twisting until he yelped and stumbled back.

Around her, the square was chaos Rainfall warriors shouting, the clash of metal against claws, the smell of singed fur where fire met flesh. The Orell wolves weren’t here to conquer; they were here to break something.

“Push them back!” David’s roar cut through the noise, his wolf nearly breaking the surface. He moved through the enemy like a storm, every strike decisive, every movement meant to kill.

Faith fought at his flank, the rhythm between them instinctive he drew enemies toward him, she struck at the openings they left. Her arms ached, her lungs burned, but she didn’t falter.

The turning point came when the torches on the northern wall flared not from lighting, but from something hurled into them. Flames climbed fast, smoke curling into the night. Someone shouted for water, but it was too late for the wooden watchtower.

The enemy wolves pulled back suddenly, retreating not toward the gate but into the narrow alleys, scattering like shadows. David saw it the same moment Faith did.

“They’re splitting us,” she panted.

“Not if I end it now.”

David shifted mid-stride, fur tearing through skin, his wolf exploding forward in black and silver. He cut down the nearest Orell warrior with a single bite to the throat, then gave chase, his howl shaking the rafters.

Faith followed, her blade slick with blood. She caught one of the retreating wolves in human form, slammed him against a wall, and drove the hilt of her dagger into his temple. He crumpled without a sound.

When she reached the treeline at the edge of the outer pack,she saw David drive the last of the intruders deep into the forest, his massive wolf form vanishing into the dark.

By the time the fighting stopped, the east gate was hanging from one hinge, and three homes were smoldering. The wounded lay in rows along the square, healers moving quickly between them.

Faith’s hands were still trembling when David returned, naked and bloodied from the shift. His chest rose and fell hard, his eyes still black.

“They were testing us,” he said. “Measuring how far they could get before I stopped them.”

“And?”

“They got too far.” His gaze swept the crowd. “Far enough to make my pack doubt I can keep them safe.”

Faith followed his line of sight. The looks weren’t fear  not entirely but they weren’t trust either. Whispers moved through the warriors like wind, glances darting toward the broken gate.

“This is what Divine wanted,” Faith murmured. “Not to win tonight but to make them believe she can.”

David’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists. “Then I’ll burn that belief out of them myself.”

But Faith wasn’t sure that fire alone would be enough.