Chapter Eight – Blood on the Pines🌲
1162 Words
POV: Nyra
The shift was instant.
Bones cracked. Muscles tore and reshaped. Her skin rippled as her wolf broke free with a roar of heat and power. The pain was nothing compared to what followed—the rush, the hunger, the absolute clarity.
Her paws landed heavy on the stone floor, claws scoring deep grooves into the rock as her senses expanded in every direction.
Kael was already gone, a massive obsidian wolf tearing down the corridor. Lucan followed a split-second behind, his golden-brown form sleek and fast.
And Nyra… she ran.
She flew.
The wind hit her face like ice as she burst into the forest, her breath a cloud behind her. Every tree, every scent, every heartbeat within miles pulsed through her mind like lightning.
This was freedom. This was power.
The border stank of blood. Not fresh, but layered—old and wrong. It smelled like rot wrapped in fur.
They reached the southern clearing just as two scouts stumbled back, one half-dragging the other. Their flanks were shredded.
Mira was already there, hands glowing with light. She was chanting in the ancient tongue, her magic pulsing like a drumbeat in Nyra’s skull.
Torren stood beside her, half-shifted, his claws out, muscles taut and vibrating with fury.
“Something crossed the barrier,” he growled, eyes flashing silver. “But it didn’t leave tracks. No scent trail. No noise. Nothing.”
“Shadow Pack?” Lucan said, shaking blood from his fur. “Or ghosts?”
“No.” Mira’s voice was ice. “Worse.”
Nyra’s wolf bristled. Her hackles rose. Something moved at the edge of the trees.
Too fast. Too quiet. Too… wrong.
Kael snarled beside her. “Form perimeter. Protect Mira.”
A dark figure burst from the trees—then another. They didn’t look like wolves.
They were twisted, malformed—longer limbs, yellowed eyes, jaws that snapped too wide. Hybrids. Experiments.
Nyra lunged before she could think. Claws out. Fangs bared. Her body moved on instinct—and for the first time, her wolf didn’t hesitate.
She met the first creature mid-air, her teeth closing around its throat. Blood splashed her muzzle as they hit the ground hard. It shrieked, then went still.
Another came at her from behind—but Kael intercepted it mid-leap, tearing into it with primal rage. His power was terrifying—calculated and savage. He fought like a king. Like a god.
Torren spun through the fray, clean and lethal, while Lucan laughed—f*****g laughed—as he decapitated one with a single swipe of his claws.
“Why are they so ugly!” Lucan yelled over the chaos. “What, did the Moon Goddess sneeze during creation?!”
“Focus!” Torren barked.
“I am focused—on how gross this thing smells!”
Nyra’s wolf grinned through blood.
Then her world tilted.
She was thrown sideways, slammed into a tree so hard her bones shuddered. Her vision spun. The creature that hit her wasn’t twisted like the others—it was bigger. Darker. Smarter.
Its red eyes locked on her as it stalked forward, saliva dripping from its fangs.
Not a rogue. Not a hybrid. Something else. Something sent.
Her wolf surged.
Kael turned—eyes locking on her—just as the thing leapt.
Nyra dodged, but it clipped her hind leg. Pain flashed white. She yelped and snapped back, raking claws across its chest.
It roared.
Before it could recover, Kael barreled into it like a battering ram, sending it flying into a boulder with a sickening crunch.
But it got up.
“Why isn’t it dead?” Nyra growled through the bond.
Kael’s voice in her mind was tight. Because it’s not fully alive.
That’s when Mira screamed.
They turned—her magic was being siphoned, twisted by a dark presence trying to crush her wards.
Torren shifted fully and tackled the source—a black shadow coiled around a tree, whispering in a tongue older than the mountains.
Kael turned to Nyra. “We need to end this now.”
“Then let’s finish it.”
They ran together—flanking the beast that had tried to take her. Lucan jumped from the side, snarling and biting deep into its spine. Nyra went low, claws ripping into its gut. Kael hit from the front—fangs locking onto its throat and tearing.
The creature didn’t scream. It just… dissolved.
Black ash rained over the clearing.
And then… silence.
Only panting. Blood. Trembling limbs.
They’d won.
For now.
-
POV: Kael
She shifted back in front of him—glorious, naked, shaking, lips parted and smeared with blood.
Kael growled low.
He was still in wolf form, but when he saw her like that—raw, victorious, and utterly his—he shifted too.
Nyra didn’t flinch. She stepped right into his chest and pressed her lips to his, hard.
He kissed her back, one hand on her waist, the other in her hair.
“You were incredible,” he rasped.
“I know.”
He chuckled, then inhaled deeply. “But you’re hurt.”
She touched her thigh, winced, then shrugged. “Just a scratch.”
“You bled for me.”
“I’d do it again.”
His hand trailed down her back, cupping her ass, pulling her closer. She gasped against his lips.
“We’re still in the woods,” she whispered.
“There’s no one here but wolves.”
Her body pressed to his again—hot, hungry.
He kissed her until she moaned, until the adrenaline blurred into arousal again.
But he stopped before taking her. Not here. Not with blood still fresh around them.
“I’ll f*ck you breathless when we get back,” he promised, licking her earlobe.
“Not if I f*ck you first.”
-
POV: Nyra
Back at the stronghold, Mira treated her wounds in silence. The seer’s hands were cool, glowing, her expression unreadable.
“You did well,” Mira said finally.
“Thanks.”
“But you felt it, didn’t you?”
Nyra stiffened. “Felt what?”
“That creature. It knew you.”
A chill ran through her spine.
Mira’s gaze sharpened. “There’s more in you than even Kael knows.”
“Why didn’t it die like the others?”
Mira didn’t answer right away.
Then: “Because something is feeding them. Something dark. And it’s looking for you.”
Nyra swallowed hard. “Why me?”
Mira cupped her face gently. “Because you’re not just the Alpha King’s mate. You’re the Moon’s answer to an ancient wound.”
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POV: Kael
He watched her from the doorway as Mira’s words echoed in his head.
The curse won’t end with blood. It will end with fire. And her fire burns for you.
He didn’t know whether to be afraid.
Or aroused.
But one thing was clear.
Nyra wasn’t just his fate.
She was his reckoning.
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