Page 44 of Aryn

“I don’t know… footsteps? Maybe?”

“What kind? Animals or people?” I ask impatiently as he leads me away from where the others are sleeping. I shouldn’t be so short with him, but I’m cranky after only a few hours of rest. And, if I’m being completely honest with myself, his dismissive attitude towards me earlier still stings.

Cato tosses an annoyed glance over his shoulder as we approach the edge of the trees. “I’m not sure. I keep hearing the snow crunch, and earlier there were a few limbs shaking. It’s probably just an animal passing through. We’ve seen a lot of different tracks.”

I hum thoughtfully as I scan the trees for movement. “Most dangerous predators won’t make a lot of noise.”

“That’s kind of what I was thinking at first,” he says, scrunching his nose against the cold, “but I keep hearing it from different directions.”

My attention snaps to him. “Like they’re circling?”

“Yeah, maybe. Scouting or surrounding.”

My instincts take over as I let myself go perfectly still, listening for anything beyond the shifting of leaves in the wind. After a long, tense couple of minutes, I hear it—the soft, rhythmic crunch of snow followed by a barely there quiver of a branch. It’s so faint, I’m shocked Cato caught it at all. His eyes meet mine, and I nod in the direction of the sound.

We step into the woods together, and I marvel at the silent way he moves his body. He steps lightly, pressing his toes into the snow to dampen the sound, and is careful not to brush against a limb or stray branch that might give us away. He readies his weapon at the same time I pull mine out, and we creep closer to the gnarled trunk that seems to be the source of the noise. We meet eyes and nod once, then step around on opposite sides.

Nothing.

I glance down at the ground and crouch, inspecting the paw prints pressed into the snow. “Well, it’s not people,” I whisper, keeping my voice low. “That’s a good thing.”

He crouches beside me, measuring the size of the footprint. “Yeah. Doesn’t seem very big.”

“Big doesn’t always mean dangerous,” I retort. “Size isn’t everything.”

He snorts a quiet laugh. “Size is a lot of things, darlin’.”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?”

He sizes me up for a second before a smirk slides onto his mouth. “A touch defensive, are we?”

I lift a brow and fight my smile. “Compensating much, are we?”

Another huff escapes him, forming a visible cloud of cold air between us. “I’m letting the attitude slide this time since I woke your ass up.”

A sharp sound cracks from our left, and the playfulness vanishes instantly. Cato’s voice drops to an urgent whisper. “Should we follow it?”

I glance back toward the distant silhouettes of the others, barely visible through the trees. They’re sleeping, completely defenseless out here, and something in my gut warns that splitting up would be a mistake. “No. It could be nothing, or it could be something trying to draw us away from the group. We’re safer staying together.”

“Yeah, okay,” he agrees, knuckles tight around the grip of his machete.

We tiptoe our way back toward the treeline, boots deliberately soft against the snow. Another rustle comes, closer this time.

Cato tenses. “Maybe I should check the woods while you keep watch here—”

“No,” I insist, the word coming out sharper than I mean it to. “We stay together.”

He sets his jaw, gaze fixed on the darkness. I brace for the inevitable argument, for that stubborn spark to flare, but he only lets out a long, irritated sigh and turns his back to the woods.

Twin points of silver-green light appear in the shadows between the trees. For half a heartbeat, I mistake them for nothing more than moonlight glinting off the ice, but they lunge forward with terrifying speed.

A massive khraelyx explodes from the darkness, its jaws gaping unnaturally wide. Jagged fangs fill its mouth, gleaming like shards of blackened glass in the moonlight, and midnight fur ripples over lean, powerful muscle as the creature leaps. It’s longer and far more lethal than any Earth predator, with coiled haunches and a tail that ends in a fan of razor spines. Those glowing eyes lock onto Cato’s exposed back with cold, intelligent hunger, finally closing in on the prey it’s been stalking.

My tail snaps out on pure instinct, snaring his upper arm and yanking him sideways with everything I have. Cato stumbles with a startled shout as the beast crashes into me instead. White-hot pain erupts where its fangs sink deep into my shoulder, tearing through the hide of my coat and ripping into my flesh.

I cry out, knees buckling under its weight as I stagger to stay upright. Its snarl rips out in a low, rattling growl as those gnarled, lethal teeth sink deeper. The creature thrashes like it might separate my shoulder from the rest of my body, shaking me until its bite drills straight into bone. The pain is unbearable, traveling up my spine and spreading through my muscles like it’s shattering every nerve along the way. My body sways as hot, feverish sweat drips down my forehead, but I lock my legs and fight through it. I force myself to keep searching the treeline, my heart hammering high in my throat as I remember a very important fact.

Khraelyx are pack hunters.