The Rising of the Moonbrone

Chapter 4: The Sanctuary

The growl reverberated through the trees in infested proximity, low and guttural, rattling the marrow of my bones. I panicked, my breath growing fast, but I did not move, not because I could not but because every shard of instinct in my body was screaming at me to run and my legs were glued to the floor of the forest. Ryker positioned himself above me with frenzied precision, a band of muscle and tension.

“That’s not a patrol wolf,” he muttered, with an edge to his voice I’d never heard before. “Stay close. Do not make a sound.”

“What is it?” I said in very low voice, almost a whisper.

Ryker’s amber gaze glinted as he stared back at me. “Pray you don’t find out.”

The shadows in between the trees seemed to be moving, darkening, sinking. A second growl rippled through the air, this one closer, its guttural notes sending a shiver down my spine. Ryker Snapped at the hair, and curled his lips.

“Damn it,” he muttered. “It’s hunting us.”

My heart pounded. “What’s hunting us?”

Ryker didn’t answer. Instead, he grasped for the glimmering dagger around his thigh. He thrust it into my hand, a iron grip.

“Take this,” he ordered. “If it gets past me, you run. You hear me? You run and you don’t stop.”

The blade I held, thick and unfamiliar in my trembling hands. “I’m not leaving you,” I said with a plaintive hiss, panic breaking through the surface of my veins.

“You will if you want to live,” he said sharply, his voice not allowing for disagreement. “Now stay behind me.”

Now the growling was louder, interspersed with heavy, deliberate footfalls. The creature whatever it was was close now, too close. With adrenaline surging through my body, my senses became heightened, and I heard sounds in the forest I hadn’t heard before the creaking of branches, the rustling of leaves, the faraway howl of some unfortunate creature.

Then I saw it.

A massive form emerged from the shadows and the creature’s body was utterly alien, grotesque. It stood on two legs and its body twisted, its fur shining black as pitch. Its eyes glinted an unwholesome emerald as they alighted on us with a carnivorous hunger that chilled my blood in my veins. A growl tore from its throat, revealing rows of jagged, yellowed teeth.

“What the hell is that?” I said, my voice quaking.

“A shadow beast,” Ryker said darkly as he fell into a defensive stance. “They shouldn’t be this far north.”

The beast lunged, its movements sickeningly fast for one so gargantuan. Ryker ran right for it and quartered in mid-run. He was powerful in wolf form, larger than I’d expected, his coat a dark, smoky gray that seemed to ripple with energy. They collided with a sickening crunch, claws and teeth flashing in a deadly pas de deux.

I recoiled, clutching the blade Ryker had gifted me, my mind screaming for me to get the hell out of there, but my legs wouldn’t move. The fighting was horrific, the sounds of growling and tearing flesh reverberating. Ryker held his own, but the shadow beast was relentless and inhumanly strong.

Ryker was thrown back and hit the ground hard. He shifted back to human, blood smeared across his face and arms. “Elara, run!” he yelled, urgently hoarse.

But I couldn’t leave him. Not like this.

The shadow beast turned its glowing gaze to me, teeth curling in a swollen rictus. It crouched, rearing to pounce; all time seemed to dilate. I gripped the blade tighter and felt my mind racing. I was just one person, and I couldn’t fight this thing not by myself.

“Elara!” Ryker’s voice snapped me out of my paralysis. He moved something in front of me a small vial that contained a glimmering silvery liquid. “Break it!”

I snatched the vial as the beast lunged. Grabbing it instinctively, I tossed it to the floor at my feet. With it came the vial, which fell, and shattered, releasing a beam of light so bright it was as if the sun had come to earth. The shadow beast screeched an auditory blast, shriveling and curling into itself as the light roasted its flesh. Its glowing eyes dimmed, and it retreated into the shadows where it fused back into the dark.

Except for my ragged breath, there was silence. Ryker managed to stand up with considerable difficulty. “Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice rough.

I couldn’t, so I kept holding the blade. “What… what was that?”

“It was a nightmare,” Ryker said grimly, wiping blood off his face. “And it won’t be the last.”

He reached for my arm and pulled me up to my feet. “We need to move. Now.”

The Path to Safety

The forest wouldn’t stop, with each step deeper into the dense trees heavier than the last. The scent of soaked earth and something sharper Ryker forged ahead, stride purpose driven but labored. His arms were no longer bleeding but his face was white beneath the tracks of blood and grit.

“Where are we going?” I asked finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Toward the sanctuary,” Ryker said, not turning his head. “And if we get there, we’ve got a shot.”

“What sanctuary?”

“It’s a place that they can’t follow,” he said. “Shadow beasts cannot cross over it.” Neither will the pack.”

The notion of safety a place where the agonies of fear might at last lie and rest sent a little tingle of hope through me. But that feeling was quickly overshadowed by doubt. “How far is it?”

Ryker hesitated. “Farther than I’d like. But we don’t have a choice.”

Hours went by and the topography got more and more difficult with each step. The forest felt alive with whispers and watching eyes, the darkness crowding in closer like a living thing, hungry and wanting. At one point, Ryker paused dramatically and raised his hand to silence the room.

“What is it?” I asked, my heart leaping to my throat.

He sniffed the air, his amber eyes slitting. “Something’s tracking us. Stay close.”

We moved faster, the desperation of Ryker’s movements spurring me on even when my legs ached. As we proceeded, we could faintly hear the sound of twigs snapping, which increased minute by minute.

Finally, the trees were getting thinner, giving way to rocky slope, pale moonlight flooding it. And at the top stood a great stone arch, its surface etched with runes that pulsed weakly in the dark.

“The sanctuary,” Ryker said, the voice that came out relieved.

We scrambled up the incline, pursuers audible behind us. As we approached the arch, Ryker turned, his gaze raking the shadows below. “Go through,” he ordered. “Now.”

I paused and turned back to him. “What about you?”

“I’m behind you,” he said, his voice forbidding resistance.

I stepped from the arch, an odd warmth spreading through the air as I crossed the threshold. Within the sanctuary, the air changed, felt lighter, calmer, as though the forest’s oppressive wood skin had been shed.

Ryker followed a moment later, his shoulders hitching as if he couldn’t keep them straight propping against the arch. “We made it,” he said, his voice a whisper.

For the first time all night I sensed a glimmer of hope. But as I looked over at Ryker, his expression darkened. “For now we’re safe,” he said. ` “But this isn’t the end. Not even close.”