Lycan Witch

Chapter 15: Blood In The Dust

The square had not yet emptied. Those who had run now peered from the edges, emboldened by Garrick’s rage. His words, sharp and venomous, had sunk their teeth deep into the villagers’ hearts.

“She is its w***e,” he spat again, voice cracking through the hush. “Did you not see how she cried out to protect it? How its cursed eyes sought hers?”

A murmur rippled through the crowd, swelling into something uglier. Torches lifted, shadows stretched long, and Aria felt the press of hate thicken like smoke.

“No—please, you don’t understand!” she gasped, struggling against the hands that held her down. “I was only—”

Her words vanished beneath a slap that snapped her head to the side. Hot copper filled her mouth. The woman who struck her—one she had known since childhood, who once sold her bread with a smile—glared down with betrayal in her eyes.

“Witch,” the woman hissed.

The crowd echoed it. Witch. Witch. Witch.

Rough hands dragged Aria upright. Garrick’s face loomed close, his eyes alight with triumph and cruelty. “We’ll see how your demon comes for you once you’ve been marked,” he sneered.

Before she could speak, he shoved her against the wooden post at the center of the square. Ropes were wound around her wrists, binding them high above her head. The coarse fibers bit into her skin, her shoulders aching as she twisted in vain.

Fear clawed up her throat. Not fear of pain—she had endured worse—but of what they would do to her before Kael could stop them. And worse still…what he might do if he saw her like this.

A hunter stepped forward with a brand pulled fresh from the fire. The iron glowed, red and merciless. Heat shimmered off it, singeing the air as he approached.

“No!” Aria thrashed, her voice breaking. “Please—don’t!”

The crowd leaned in, eyes glittering with feverish anticipation. Every step the hunter took with that glowing iron felt like the drumbeat of doom.

And then—

The night split open.

A roar erupted from the treeline, deeper and more savage than any before. It rolled like thunder through the square, shaking the ground beneath their feet. The villagers froze. The hunter holding the brand faltered, the iron slipping from his hand to hiss against the dirt.

Golden eyes burned out of the shadows.

Then Kael was among them.

He tore through the line of hunters with a fury that was both brutal and precise. Claws raked steel, sending swords spinning from hands; jaws snapped close enough to split courage but not flesh. Men stumbled back, tripping over one another in their haste.

The square erupted into chaos. Villagers screamed, scattering into the night. Torches fell, fire licking at the edges of houses.

But Kael had eyes only for her.

He ripped through the ropes as though they were threads, catching her before she could fall. His body was a wall of heat, his claws careful as they cradled her trembling frame. Aria’s breath hitched, her tears hot against his fur.

“You came,” she whispered, broken, shaking.

Kael’s golden eyes locked on hers. For a moment, the world disappeared—the flames, the hunters, the jeers. There was only her and the beast who had refused to abandon her.

But Garrick was not done.

“Shoot it!” he bellowed, scrambling to his feet, spittle flying from his lips. “Bring it down before it—”

His words ended in a scream as Kael lunged. The alpha’s snarl shook the night, claws stopping just shy of Garrick’s throat. The man fell to the ground, pale and trembling, his bravado shattered.

Kael did not kill him. He could have. He wanted to. The tremor in his body told Aria how close he was to giving in to the beast within.

But instead, he turned—scooping Aria into his arms, cradling her like something precious, fragile, irreplaceable—and carried her into the safety of the trees.

Behind them, the village burned with fear and rage. Ahead, the forest swallowed them whole.

Aria clung to him, her pulse still racing, her body aching with the phantom memory of the ropes. Yet beneath it all, buried deep, was something fierce and undeniable: relief.

Not just that she was free. But that he had chosen her.