Tomorrow, they would set out, and everything would change again.
Chapter 30
Afaint vibration hummed through the tent. It felt subtle, as if it were a warning meant to rouse her from sleep. With the wolf pack gone, the camp felt hollow, like an abandoned village on the brink of being claimed by the dark.
Evelyne felt it again, stronger this time, and bolted upright, the last traces of sleep vanishing in an instant. Drawn by the vibration, she shifted her gaze to her bag, where a soft light pulsed from within.
The map.
Her hands trembled as she tore open the bag and yanked out the parchment. Her breath caught at the sight of inky blackness bleeding across the camp’s outline.
Something was here.
A sudden chill rushed through the tent, extinguishing the lantern beside her. In the moonlight spilling through the flap, Evelyne saw her breath.
She bolted.
Tugging on her boots, she scrambled outside, her breath coming in quick, panicked gasps. The full moon bathed the camp in silver light, but it wasn’t enough to see through the shifting black mist curling around the tents. It writhed with a life of its own, moving in ways that defied nature.
“Alaric!”
Evelyne’s shout was swallowed by the eerie silence.
“Alaric!”
Which tent was his?Shit, she didn’t know—
She froze at what she saw near the edge of the trees.
Two tall, preternatural figures shifted from shadow to solid form, and between them, pinned against a tree, was Alaric.
The first creature, built like a man, had its clawed fingers wrapped around Alaric’s throat. Its gray skin was stretched too tightly over its bones, black veins pulsing beneath the surface like ink spreading through paper. Its mouth, an unholy grin of jagged, needle-sharp teeth, was smeared with blood. Alaric’s blood.
The second creature hovered beside it, clutching Alaric’s arm in a deathly grip. Its lips pressed against his skin, siphoning the blood from his veins. Alaric’s head hung forward, lifelessly still.
No! No, no, no—
Before Evelyne could cry out, a bone-rattling snarl rolled through the forest, halting the creatures mid-feed.
A massive blur of white shot past her, slamming into the demon gripping Alaric’s throat. The force sent it crashing against a tree with a sickening crack. The white wolf positioned himself between her and the creatures, a barrier of muscle and power. She could only stare at the rise and fall of his shoulders, each breath a quiet vow to protect.
Kaldrek.
Every muscle in his body was wound tight, like a bowstring ready to snap. A feral gleam lit his dark eyes as they locked onto the creatures, and Evelyne felt a cold ripple of fear. He sank into a low crouch and bared his fangs, a beast on the brink of bloodshed.
Yet despite the brutal image, something eased within her. He was back.
Another figure exploded from the trees—a gray-and-white wolf landing at Kaldrek’s side. Evelyne recognized him instantly. Holden. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, ready to tear their enemies apart.
But where was the rest of the pack?
Alaric lay slumped against the tree, barely conscious, his breath shallow. He was alive, but one of the creatures still clung to him. The other stood still, like they were both biding their time. Or planning their next move.
A sick churn gripped Evelyne’s stomach as their soulless eyes tracked the space between the wolves.
No, not the wolves.Her.
Realization struck like ice in her veins. She was the prey. And when twin smiles stretched across their merciless faces, she knew they could see the terror blooming behind her eyes.
