Chapter 100
Kairo ran at the front of the pack, his silver wolf form slicing through the undergrowth like moonlight on water. Every muscle moved with purpose—fluid, powerful, relentless. Behind him, the twenty wolves followed in perfect formation, a silent storm of fur and fangs. No barking, no growls, only the steady drum of paws on damp earth, the rustle of leaves, the shared scent of pine, bloodlust, and unbreakable loyalty. They had run for hours without slowing. The border village was close now; the smell reached them first—acrid smoke, hot iron, human sweat laced with the sharp, poisonous bite of silver.
Kairo slowed as the trees thinned. The pack fanned out instinctively, a wide crescent of low bodies and glowing eyes. Theo and Jax peeled left, Garrick and Rylan right. The rest filled the gaps, tails low, ears forward. They crested the ridge overlooking the village outskirts.
Below was worse than the scouts had described.
Three huts burned steadily, flames leaping from thatched roofs to the night sky. Orange light painted the chaos in flickering red. Villagers huddled behind overturned carts and stone walls, faces pale with terror. Two pack wolves lay dead near the central well—throats slit open, wounds blackened and smoking from silver poison. A child’s cry cut through the crackle of fire, high and desperate.
Six hunters moved between the buildings. Tall men in hooded dark cloaks, leather reinforced with thin silver plates. Crossbows in hand, silver-tipped bolts catching the firelight. One hunter dragged a young wolf by the scruff—alive, but barely, whimpering as silver chains burned its hide. Another hunter raised a torch to a fourth hut.
Kairo’s wolf snarled low, the sound vibrating through the pack like a shared heartbeat.
He gave the signal—tail flick, ears back, a single sharp huff.
The pack spread wider. Theo and Jax circled left to cut off escape. Garrick and Rylan right to flank. The rest formed a tightening half-circle.
Kairo waited.
One hunter—the leader, scarred jaw, cold eyes—stepped forward. He raised a horn and blew it. Sharp, mocking sound echoing off the trees.
“Come out, beasts!” he shouted. “We know you’re watching. Show yourselves or we burn every hut to ash. Starting with the pups.”
Kairo’s eyes narrowed to slits.
He shifted first.
Bones cracked and reshaped in an instant. Fur receded. He rose human—tall, golden-haired, dark armor clinging to his frame, sword already drawn and gleaming.
The hunters turned as one.
Kairo’s voice carried across the clearing, calm and lethal.
“You are trespassing on pack land. Drop your weapons. Surrender. Or die.”
The scarred leader laughed—a dry, ugly sound.
“Prince Kairo himself. We were hoping you’d come. Your head will fetch a high price from our employer.”
Kairo’s grip tightened on his sword. “Employer?”
The hunter smirked. “You think we’re here for sport? Someone wants your pack weakened. Wants the border open. Wants you gone before your pretty little wedding.”
Kairo’s blood turned to ice.
They knew about the wedding.
They knew about Aurora.
He said, “Last chance.”
The hunters raised crossbows.
Kairo shifted back to wolf mid-stride and howled once—short, commanding.
The pack exploded from the ridge.
Twenty wolves surged forward like a black-and-silver tide. Fast. Silent. Deadly.
Theo hit the first hunter low. Leaped. Teeth sank into throat. The man gurgled once. Down.
Jax and Rylan struck two more from the sides—coordinated, ruthless. Claws raked through leather and silver plate. Screams cut short.
Garrick circled behind, cutting off retreat. One hunter swung a silver dagger. Garrick dodged. Claws across the back. The man fell screaming.
Kairo went straight for the scarred leader.
The man fired. Silver bolt hissed through the air.
Kairo twisted mid-leap. The bolt grazed his shoulder—burned like liquid fire, silver poison spreading fast. He ignored it. Landed on the hunter. Jaws closed on the arm holding the crossbow. Bone snapped. Weapon fell.
The man screamed.
Kairo shifted human in a heartbeat. Grabbed the hunter’s throat. Slammed him to the ground. Pinned him with one knee.
“Who sent you?” Kairo growled, voice low and dangerous.
The hunter spat blood. “You think I’ll talk?”
Kairo pressed the sword tip to the man’s throat. “You will. Or you die slow.”
The hunter laughed weakly. “You’re too late. The past is coming back. Your bride will never be queen. The bond you think is broken… it’s waking up. And it’s hungry.”
Kairo’s blood froze.
Aurora.
The bond.
Rhianna.
He pressed harder. “Who.”
The hunter grinned through blood. “Tell your pretty little mate… her real name is coming home. And when it does, your wedding ends in blood.”
Kairo’s sword flashed.
The hunter’s head rolled.
The last hunter tried to run. Garrick brought him down. Claws. Teeth. Silence.
The pack shifted human.
Kairo stood over the bodies. Blood on his hands. Silver burn on his shoulder spreading like poison. He ignored it.
He looked around.
Three wolves dead. Five villagers injured. Huts still burning.
He shouted orders.
“Put out the fires! Tend the wounded! Bind the prisoners! We take them back for questioning!”
Warriors moved fast.
Villagers emerged slowly—scared, grateful. Children clung to parents. An old woman wept over a dead wolf.
Kairo knelt beside the two fallen pack members. Young. Barely shifted. He closed their eyes. Whispered a quiet prayer to the Goddess.
Then he stood.
He looked toward the palace—eight days away.
He had promised Aurora he would return in time for the wedding.
He would keep that promise.
But the hunter’s words echoed.
The past is coming back.
Her real name.
The bond waking up.
Someone knew everything.
Someone wanted Aurora.
Someone wanted the wedding to end in blood.
Kairo shifted back to wolf.
He howled once—long, mournful, victorious.
The pack howled back.
They secured the prisoners—two alive, bound with rope, silver chains removed but wrists tied.
They carried the dead.
They ran.
Back toward the palace.
Kairo at the front.
Blood on his fur.
Silver burn on his shoulder spreading slow poison.
Pain sharp with every stride.
But alive.
And coming home.
With prisoners.
With questions.
With a warning burning in his mind.
The wedding was close.
But war had already started.
And it was coming for Aurora.