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“Show yourself,” I demanded, my heart pounding a staccato rhythm against my ribs.
Laughter shattered the stillness—a harsh, grating sound that made my skin crawl. Men emerged from the shadows, their outlines rough and menacing against the dimming light. I counted four—no, five of them circling around me with predatory ease.
“We don’t want any trouble,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m just passing through.”
The largest of them stepped forward. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Passing through our hunting grounds? I don’t think so.”
I took a step back, gripping the knife handle until my knuckles turned white. “Your hunting grounds? There’s no game here worth poaching.”
His laughter boomed again through the trees. “Who said anything about game?”
My stomach dropped as realization dawned on me—poachers, but not for animals. The Amaroks... they were after Zunnik and his kind.
“Look, just let me go,” I pleaded, backing away slowly. “I won’t tell anyone about you.”
The leader shook his head. “Can’t risk it.”
They closed in on me, their intentions clear in their narrowed eyes and cruel smirks. Fear clawed at my throat as I brandished the knife before me—a futile gesture against their numbers.
“I’ll disappear,” I promised, desperation seeping into my voice. “You’ll never hear from me again.”
But they kept advancing, each step deliberate and unyielding. My mind raced—options dwindling with every second that ticked by.
“You really think we believed that?” The leader’s voice was icy, devoid of mercy.
I swallowed hard, backing until my shoulders hit a tree trunk—trapped. They surrounded me now; their faces etched with malice and greed.
“We take care of problems permanently,” he said with a twisted grin.
And then they were upon me—intent on ensuring that I would never share their secret or stand in their way again.
12
Zunnik
The scent of pine and frost clung to the air, a thin veil of snowflakes drifting from the heavy gray sky. My feet moved with purpose through the thickening blanket of white, but my mind reeled, spinning with the absence that met me when I returned to the cave.
Claudia’s things—gone. The warmth of her presence, a hollow echo against the stone walls. Outside, the blizzard rages couldn’t match the turmoil that ripped through me. The raw edge of truth cut deep; she left. The very thought clawed at my insides like a beast frantic to escape its cage.
I should have seen this coming. I pushed her away, letting the silence grow between us like ice on a winter branch. But now, the cold absence where she once stood pierced deeper than any chill.
No time for brooding—the storm wouldn’t wait, and neither would I. My senses sharpened as I stepped out into the tempest’s fury, nostrils flaring to catch the lingering threads of her scent. Snow swirled and danced around me in a mad waltz as I focused on the task at hand.
Her trail was fresh, a narrative in the snow that spoke of haste and a heavy heart. Her footprints pressed deep into the soft white, her path weaving between trees stripped bare by winter’s grasp. I followed with relentless determination, muscles coiling and uncoiling beneath my fur with each powerful stride.
“Zunnik,” her voice whispered in the wind—a memory or perhaps a trick of my longing. My name never sounded as sweet as when it fell from her lips.
The storm sought to erase her passage, flakes falling faster, intent on burying all traces of her escape. But my nose never failed me; it cut through the deceit of the blizzard with primal accuracy.
I leapt over fallen logs, splashed through half-frozen streams that attempted to bar my way. My breath formed clouds that mingled with the storm’s breath—two forces of nature colliding in an indifferent world.
“Claudia,” I called out against the howling wind, my voice barely rising above its roar. “Claudia!”
She had to hear me; she must feel that invisible tether pulling between us, strained but unbroken.
My pace quickened as desperation lent me speed. Snow clung to my fur, adding a weight that I barely registered—nothing could slow me down now.
A sharper scent caught my attention—a tinge of fear mingled with hers. My heart thundered in response, instincts screaming danger. Those poachers... if they found her...
