Chapter 9 Chapter 9: Into the Dead Forest
The Black Crag Fortress wasn’t just a location; it was a warning. It sat atop the world like a jagged tooth, miles away from the prying eyes of the Council and the poisonous whispers of the court. But to get there, we had to survive the Dead Forest—a place where the trees didn't grow toward the sun, and the wind sounded like the weeping of forgotten ghosts.
We left under the cover of a moonless sky. Fenris didn't take an army. He didn't even take a personal guard.
"Too many witnesses," he had growled as he tossed a heavy fur cloak over my shoulders. "In the palace, every wall has ears. In the forest, the only thing watching us will be the shadows. And I know how to kill shadows."
I sat atop a massive charcoal-grey mare, my fingers tangled in her coarse mane. My body still felt like it was recovering from a fever, the amber light from the altar having left a strange, metallic tang in the back of my throat. Every time the horse jolted, my stomach did a slow, nauseating roll.
Fenris rode beside me, his eyes constantly scanning the tree line. He hadn't shifted, but his wolf was clearly close to the surface. His skin seemed to vibrate with a suppressed energy, his nostrils flaring at every shift in the wind.
"You’re thinking about her," I said, my voice barely a whisper against the rustle of the leaves.
"Isadora?" Fenris asked without looking at me.
"No. Elena."
He finally turned his head. The starlight caught the silver in his eyes, making them look like cold, polished coins. "Your sister is a ghost, Nina. A ghost who made a deal with a man she didn't understand. She is irrelevant."
"She’s not irrelevant if she comes back," I countered. "She’s the 'real' Elena. If she shows up at the palace while we're gone, the Council will realize the girl who broke the altar wasn't the girl they expected."
Fenris pulled his horse closer to mine, his knee brushing against my thigh. "The girl who broke that altar is the only girl I care about. If the 'real' Elena returns, she will find herself a stranger in her own home. Now, be silent. We are entering the veil."
The air changed instantly. The temperature dropped ten degrees, and the natural sounds of the night—the crickets, the owls, the rustle of small prey—vanished. The Dead Forest was a graveyard of ancient oaks, their branches stripped of leaves and reaching out like skeletal fingers.
As we rode deeper into the gloom, the amber heat in my core began to pulse again. It wasn't the sharp, violent burst from the throne room. It was slow. Rhythmic. Like a second heartbeat.
Look...
The voice was clearer now. It wasn't just a vibration; it was a woman’s whisper, ancient and weary.
I closed my eyes, and for a split second, I wasn't on a horse.
I was standing in the middle of a burning village. The sky was black with smoke, and the ground was soaked in silver blood. I saw a woman—her hair the same mahogany as mine, her eyes burning with a terrifying golden light. She was holding a child to her chest, standing before a line of Alphas with their claws bared.
“They will call you a defect,” the woman said, though her lips didn't move. “They will call you a lie. But you are the bridge. You are the fire that purifies the pack.”
A sudden, sharp pain flared in my stomach, and I gasped, my eyes snapping open. I swayed in the saddle, my hands losing their grip on the reins.
"Nina!"
Before I could hit the ground, Fenris was there. He had vaulted off his moving horse with a grace that was purely animal, catching me mid-fall. He dragged me down into the frost-covered grass, his arms wrapping around me like a shield.
"It’s the child," he hissed, his face pale with a fear he couldn't hide. "Healer said the strain would be too much. We have to stop."
"No," I gasped, clutching his forearms. My skin felt like it was on fire. "It’s not the child. It’s a memory. Fenris... I saw her. I saw the woman from the altar."
Fenris froze. He looked around at the twisted trees, his eyes narrowing. "The Dead Forest is a place where the thinness of the world allows the past to bleed through. You’re sensitive to it now because of the blood."
He pulled me closer, his hand coming to rest on my belly. As his palm touched the fabric of my dress, the burning heat beneath my skin began to calm. It was as if his Lycan energy was acting as a cooling balm for the Ancient fire.
"You’re glowing," he whispered.
I looked down. Faint, amber veins were visible through the skin of my hands, pulsing in time with the heartbeat in my womb. It was beautiful and terrifying. I looked like a lantern in the middle of a graveyard.
"They'll see us," I said, looking into the dark woods. "Anyone following us will see this light for miles."
"Then let them come," Fenris growled, his voice dropping into a wolfish register. He stood up, pulling me to my feet but keeping me tucked against his side. "I’ve spent my life fighting for a throne I didn't want. I’ll gladly spend the rest of it killing for the woman who carries my light."
A low, haunting howl echoed through the trees. It wasn't a Lycan howl. It was higher, sharper—the sound of a rogue pack.
"They've found us," I whispered.
Fenris didn't look worried. He looked hungry. He reached down and drew the silver dagger—the same one he’d used to brand me. He handed it to me, hilt-first.
"This time, Nina, don't just use it to scare a coward like your father," he said, his eyes turning fully silver as his claws began to extend. "The forest is hungry. Show it why you’re the Queen of the Crags."
As the first pair of glowing red eyes emerged from the shadows, I didn't feel the nausea anymore. I didn't feel the fear. I felt the amber fire in my veins swell, answering the call of the hunt.