Enemies under one moon
853 Words
Her POV:
No one sleeps.
The wolves don’t trust me enough to turn their backs, and I don’t blame them. I sit near the edge of the camp, firelight flickering over faces hardened by war and loss. The Silverwood groans around us, wounded but alive, its scent thick with smoke and blood.
Bodies were buried at dawn.
Too many.
I keep seeing Vaelor fall. The shock on his face. The certainty in his eyes that I would never turn on my own.
I did.
A twig snaps behind me.
“You should rest,” he says.
I don’t turn. “So you can kill me easier?”
A huff of breath. Almost a laugh. “If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have made it out of the ravine.”
I finally face him. He looks as exhausted as I feel, armor discarded, shirt torn and stained. Alpha or not, he bleeds like the rest of us.
“You put me in front of your army,” I say. “They hate me.”
“They fear you,” he corrects. “Different thing.”
“I slaughtered my own general.”
“You ended a liar.”
The words settle heavier than he intends.
Silence stretches between us, thick with everything left unsaid.
“They’ll hunt me now,” I say quietly. “The council won’t stop.”
“No,” he agrees. “They’ll escalate.”
A wolf approaches cautiously. “Alpha. Scouts report movement beyond the northern ridge.”
He nods. “How many?”
“Hard to tell. But it feels… organized.”
Vampire.
I stand. “They’ll be testing your borders.”
“They’ll be testing you,” he replies, eyes locked on mine.
The weight of it hits me then. What I’ve become.
“What happens to me?” I ask.
He considers. “You stay where I can see you.”
“Protective,” I mutter.
“Practical,” he says. “Until I decide whether trusting you was a mistake.”
Fair.
A shout cuts through the camp.
We turn as a young wolf staggers into the firelight, blood soaking his side.
“Message,” he gasps. “From the council.”
My stomach drops.
He hands me a sealed scroll—black wax. The highest mark.
I break it open with shaking fingers.
The words blur, then sharpen.
RETURN IMMEDIATELY.
YOU WILL ANSWER FOR YOUR TREASON.
FAILURE WILL RESULT IN TOTAL ERADICATION OF SILVERWOOD.
My hands clench.
“They’re threatening g******e,” I whisper.
The Alpha’s jaw tightens. “They already planned it.”
“There’s more,” I say, dread crawling up my spine.
I read the final line aloud.
THE ALPHA WILL BE BROUGHT TO US—ALIVE—OR THE FOREST WILL BURN.
The camp erupts in low growls.
“They want me as bait,” he says calmly.
“No,” I snap. “They want you dead after I deliver you.”
He studies me. “Would you?”
I meet his gaze without flinching. “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have saved you.”
A beat.
Then he nods once.
“Then we prepare.”
“For what?” I ask.
“For war,” he replies. “A real one.”
The fire crackles violently.
“How many wolves will stand with you if the vampires attack in full force?” I ask.
“All of them,” he says. “Or none.”
“And if the forest falls?”
He steps closer, lowering his voice. “Then we take the fight to their city.”
My breath catches.
“That would mean open invasion.”
“That would mean ending this.”
The firelight dances across his face, and for a moment I see the man I loved buried beneath the Alpha.
A runner approaches, panic etched into his features.
“Alpha,” he blurts. “They’ve taken prisoners.”
My heart stutters. “Who?”
He looks at me.
“Your people,” he says. “Vampires. Civilians. They were left behind during the retreat.”
The world tilts.
“How many?” I demand.
“Dozens.”
The Alpha’s gaze sharpens. “Where?”
“The Red Marsh.”
A slaughter ground.
I feel something inside me break, then harden.
“They’ll use them,” I say. “As leverage.”
“As a message,” he corrects.
I step forward, blood singing in my ears.
“Then we don’t wait,” I say. “We strike first.”
The camp stills.
The Alpha watches me carefully. “You’re injured.”
“I’ll survive.”
“This will kill what’s left of your old life.”
I don’t look away. “That life already burned.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment.
Then he turns to his army.
“We move before dawn,” he declares. “To the Red Marsh.”
The wolves howl, raw and furious.
I grip my blade, eyes fixed on the dark horizon.
The council wanted a traitor.
They’re about to get a war.
- Writer
