Chapter Sixty-Five: The Hunter’s Snare

Chapter Sixty-Five: The Hunter’s Snare
The torment began the next morning.

A scout returned with a bundle tied in wolf-hide, his face pale as he handed it to David. Inside lay a strip of cloth torn from Daniel’s tunic, stained with dirt and blood. No note. No words. Just proof he was still alive, and suffering.

The following day, another message arrived. This time it was a dagger, its edge still wet with a dark smear. David recognized the blade instantly it had belonged to his brother.

By the third day, Faith was the one who unwrapped the parcel. A lock of Daniel’s hair tumbled into her hands, bound with twine. The scent was his, faint but there. Real.

Each cruel offering stoked the fire in David’s chest until it threatened to consume him. His wolf prowled constantly, snapping at the edges of his control. But he didn’t break, not yet.

Faith knew why. Every time his rage swelled too high, he looked at her, at the flatness of her stomach, at the life he guarded more fiercely than his own. That tether kept him from losing himself completely.

Still, she could feel the storm in him. And she knew if they waited much longer, Divine would succeed in breaking him without ever setting foot across their borders.

On the fourth night, Faith stood in the Alpha Hall, arms crossed, waiting for him to stop pacing. “We can’t just sit here.”

David stopped, turning on her sharply. “What do you suggest? Walk into her snare like a fool?”

“No.” Her voice was steady, though her heart pounded. “But we can turn the snare on her. She’s been sending scouts, taunting us, that means they’re close. We take one.”

David’s eyes narrowed. “Too dangerous, you don’t leave the Hall.”

“I do,” Faith said firmly. “And I will. Because this isn’t just your fight anymore. She wants me dead, David. Not you or even the pack David If we’re going to stop her, I need to know what she’s planning.”

For a long moment, silence stretched between them. His jaw worked, his hands curled into fists.

Finally, with a growl low in his throat, he turned away. “You’re not going without me.”

Faith exhaled, relief flooding her chest. “Then it’s settled.”

The strike came two nights later, under the shadow of cloud cover. A handpicked team of seven  wolves moved through the trees silent, and lethal. David led them, Faith at his side despite his constant glances of disapproval. Her wolf thrummed under her skin, eager, sharp.

They didn’t have to wait long. Near the river pass, a flicker of movement betrayed one of Divine’s scouts. The figure was fast, silver-furred, but David faster. He brought the wolf down in a brutal tackle, shifting mid-leap and slamming the enemy against the earth.

The others closed in, circling, snarls rumbling in the dark.

Faith knelt beside the captive, her fingers digging into the wolf’s ruff until he stilled. “Shift,” she commanded.

With a snarl, the scout obeyed. He was young, no older than twenty, with scars already crisscrossing his face. His eyes burned with the Orell fire that strange mix of fanatic loyalty and terror.

David crouched before him, voice low and lethal. “You’ve been shadowing us. Why?”

The scout spat at his feet. “Because she told us to, because your walls are going to fall Alpha.”

Faith leaned forward, her hand still gripping his shoulder hard enough to bruise. “When?”

The scout laughed, harsh and broken. “Soon. Before your belly shows.” His eyes flicked to her stomach, and the grin that spread across his face was cruel. “She knows. The witch knows. That’s why she sends the gifts. She’s waiting for the Blood Moon to fade, then she’ll storm your gates. Kill you before the pup ever breathes.”

David’s body went rigid. The others around them growled, low and furious.

Faith felt the world narrow to a point. Her breath caught, her hand trembled once before steadying again. “She thinks if she kills me, David will break.”

The scout’s smile widened, blood staining his teeth. “He will and that’s  what she wants. Not your brother. Not even your pack. You. Dead. And him ruined.”

David’s growl ripped through the night, savage and raw. He surged forward, his claws flashing. For a heartbeat, Faith thought he would tear the boy’s throat out.

She caught his arm. “David.”

His chest heaved, his wolf raging for blood, but slowly, with visible effort, he stopped. His claws hovered against the scout’s skin, then retracted.

“Take him back,” David ordered his warriors, voice hoarse with fury. “Chain him. We’ll bleed every scrap of truth from him before this is done.”

The warriors hauled the scout to his feet and dragged him away, still laughing through split lips.

When they were gone, Faith turned to David. His chest was rising and falling too fast, his eyes still burning gold.

“She knows about the pup,” Faith whispered.

David’s hand slammed into the nearest tree, splintering bark. “Then she dies.”

Faith stepped closer, resting her hand over his clenched fist. “Not like this. If we strike in rage, she wins. If we wait, if we outthink her, we make her bleed for every step she takes.”

He looked at her then, the fury in his eyes twisting into something darker. Fear. Possessive, desperate fear. “If she touches you…”

“She won’t,” Faith said, fierce as her wolf. “Because I won’t let her.”

The forest was silent around them, but the Blood Moon above still burned faint and red through the clouds.

Divine had set the snare. But Rainfall had teeth too.

And Faith knew the war was no longer about territory. It was about survival  of her child, of her bond, of everything she and David had built together.