The wolves struck first, a blur of fur and teeth crashing into the Noskari. Alaric had seen them fight before, but never like this. The creatures didn’t just fight back; they overpowered the pack. Fast. Brutal. It took two, sometimes three wolves to bring one down.
Beside him, Evelyne trembled, but only for a second. Then she inhaled sharply, reached into her bag, and pulled out a dagger… and her father’s pistol. Her fingers fumbled over the weapon, trembling, struggling with the next steps.
“Let me,” Alaric said, taking it from her, trying to sound steady despite the pounding in his chest.
“I can shoot, I just—” She swallowed, eyes wide. “I can’t remember how to—”
“I’ve got it.” He dropped low and got to work. Muscle memory kicked in. He flipped open the frizzen, poured the powder, loaded the ball andwadding, and slammed the ramrod down the barrel. His hands moved fast, but not fast enough.
He was priming the pan when movement caught his eye. A shadow peeled from the alley wall, and the Noskari lunged straight for Evelyne.
Alaric’s heart stopped.
She didn’t.
Her dagger met the creature’s stomach, the blade sinking deep, but it barely recoiled. It staggered and smiled, a grin slick with blood and menace. It was toying with her.
Alaric’s grip on the pistol tightened. He rushed to finish.
Evelyne pulled the dagger free and struck again, this time to the throat. Still nothing. It raised a clawed hand toward her—
The shot cracked through the alley.
The Noskari’s head snapped back in an explosion of blood and bone. It crumpled at her feet.
Evelyne stood over the body, panting, streaked with red. “Is it dead?”
Alaric didn’t wait to answer. “Move.”
She grabbed her dagger and ran close behind him as they darted through chaos. Around them, wolves fought with everything they had, but they were losing ground. Fast.
A massive blur of white cut through the mayhem and barreled right into a Noskari pinned by two wolves. The creature had no chance to react before Kaldrek’s powerful jaws closed around its throat.
His wolf form was all muscle and feral dominance as he dragged the Noskari to the ground. With a savage shake, he ripped its throat clean out, then tore its head from its shoulders in one brutal motion.
Blood sprayed across the dirt as he lifted his head, his muzzle slick with crimson. Even amid the turmoil, his dark, focused eyes found Evelyne, but shadows closed in before he could reach her, devouring the light.
***
The mist swallowed them whole. One second, Evelyne stood near Kaldrek’s massive wolf form, Alaric at her side, and the next, darkness consumed everything.
A frigid, grotesque cold wrapped around her, seeping deep into her bones. Suddenly, hands, far too strong and far too many, clamped down on her arms and yanked her backward. She screamed, twisting and kicking, but there was no ground beneath her, no sense of direction or gravity.
Then, there was light.
She staggered as the shadows released her, boots scraping against blood-slicked cobblestones. The air was thick with smoke and something far worse—a stench of rot and decay that turned her stomach. Ahead, two Noskari stood, gripping a man by the arms with their black-veined hands. His head hung low, chest rising and falling in shallow, ragged breaths. He looked gaunt, beaten, stripped down to nothing but his undergarments.
Then she saw his abdomen, and nausea rolled through her. A fresh burn marked his skin, intricate lines woven into a twisted pattern. The edges were still raw, the flesh angry and red, making it difficult to discern the full symbol. But her heart pounded as recognition struck.
The sigil.
This wasn’t just an attack or a random act of killing. It was a message, a warning, and it was meant for her. For ignoring Vaelora’s first warning. And the second. Now, the price had been paid in blood.
The Noskari holding her sneered, one of them giving her a rough shove forward. Her knees nearly buckled as she stumbled closer, her eyeslocked on the sigil, on the way the burned flesh still wept, the way the man’s shallow breaths barely stirred his ribs.
Who was he, and why were they doing this to him?
The second Noskari grinned, yanking back the man’s hair so his head snapped upright. Evelyne flinched as his face came into view. He was bruised and covered in blood, his eyes dull and distant. But his face was so familiar it struck her like a blade to the chest.
