Chapter 0010
950 Words
Tamsin
The snow beneath our feet was stained with ash.
We followed the smoke plumes east, the scent of burning pine and blood thickening with every step. The Free Pack moved like ghosts now—five wolves where there had once been twenty. Jerek carried Renn’s axe, its blade notched from the First Den’s shadow-wolves. Leo walked at my side, his hand brushing mine whenever the wind grew too loud. His touch was colder than it used to be, as if part of him still lingered in that shattered pillar of obsidian.
“They’re herding us,” Leo muttered, his gaze scanning the skeletal trees. “Bloodline doesn’t burn villages carelessly. They want us to see this.”
I knew he was right. The charred bodies strung from the branches were arranged deliberately—faces twisted toward the mountain we’d fled. A message. A challenge.
Jerek spat on the frozen ground. “Let them come. We’ll add their bones to the pile.”
The howl cut through the wind before I could answer.
It came from the crags ahead—a sound that vibrated in the marrow, primal and ancient. The bonded blade hummed in response, its edge catching the weak sunlight.
“The First Alpha’s tomb,” Leo said quietly. “They’re waiting.”
The Valley of Teeth
The Howling Crags lived up to their name.
Towers of jagged stone clawed at the sky, their surfaces scarred with claw marks older than any wolf alive. The air here tasted of iron and rot, and the ground crunched with the bones of creatures long extinct. At the valley’s heart stood a stone archway, its lintel carved with the same runes as the First Den’s pillar.
Bloodline wolves patrolled the perimeter, their golden eyes gleaming in the dusk. Lysette’s successor stood at the arch—a hulking Alpha with a crown of antlers strapped to his skull. His voice boomed across the valley.
“Delta scavengers! The Bloodline welcomes you… to your graves!”
The Free Pack snarled, hackles raised. Leo’s fingers tightened around his dagger. “That’s Goran. He butchered my father’s pack during the Frost Uprising.”
I stepped forward, the bonded blade raised. “Then let’s return the favor.”
The First Charge
They came like a blizzard—swift, relentless, and numbingly cold.
Goran fought with a brutality Lysette had lacked. His antlers gouged the earth as he charged, throwing up sprays of ice and stone. I ducked beneath his swing, driving my blade into his flank. He roared, backhanding me into a boulder.
“Pathetic!” He ripped the dagger free, black blood oozing from the wound. “You think steel can kill what the Bloodline has forged?”
Leo’s snarl echoed behind him. “No. But this can.”
He lunged, claws aimed for Goran’s throat. The Alpha pivoted, antlers slicing through Leo’s shoulder. Blood splattered the snow.
His blood.
Something in me snapped.
The Bonded Fury
The world narrowed to the beat of my pulse and the sting of frost in my lungs. I moved without thought—a storm of fangs and steel. Goran’s antlers shattered under the bonded blade’s edge. His wolves fell like wheat before a scythe.
But it wasn’t enough.
Goran laughed, even as my dagger found his heart. “You… cannot… win…”
The ground trembled.
From the archway, a howl rose—deeper than the crags, hungrier than the void. The runes ignited, bathing the valley in crimson light.
“What have you done?” Leo hauled me back as the earth split.
Goran’s dying grin was answer enough.
The Tomb’s Guardian
It clawed free from the fissure—a beast of stone and shadow, its body woven from the crags themselves. Eyes like molten lava locked onto us, and its roar shook the valley.
“The First Alpha’s hound,” Jerek whispered, terror cracking his voice. “The stories… they were true.”
The creature lunged.
The Dance of Death
We fought as we’d never fought before.
Jerek died first, crushed beneath a stone paw. Another Delta fell to the beast’s fiery breath. Leo and I circled it, striking where we could—claws on stone, steel on shadow.
“The arch!” Leo shouted, blood streaming from a gash on his temple. “Destroy the runes!”
I dodged a swipe of the beast’s tail, sprinting toward the stone arch. The bonded blade’s edge bit into the ancient carvings, sending sparks flying. The guardian howled, its form flickering.
“Again!” Leo tackled the beast as it surged toward me.
The blade struck true.
The Shattered Pact
The runes exploded.
Lightning of crimson and frost tore through the valley. The guardian shattered, its fragments scattering like meteors. The archway collapsed, sealing the tomb beneath tons of stone.
Silence fell, broken only by our ragged breaths.
Leo collapsed beside me, his hand finding mine. “We… did it…”
But the victory tasted hollow. Three wolves left. No bodies to bury.
And the Bloodline’s laughter still echoed in the wind.
Embers of Rebellion
We built the pyre at dawn.
Jerek’s axe lay atop the kindling, its blade reflecting the rising sun. Leo spoke the rites, his voice steady despite the blood crusting his lips.
“To the Free. To the fallen. To the vengeance we’ll carve from their bones.”
The flames consumed the offering, smoke curling into the shape of a howling wolf.
Renn, now the eldest, gripped my shoulder. “Where now, Luna?”
I looked south, where the horizon shimmered with distant fires. “To the heart of the Bloodline. To their stronghold.”
Leo’s cold fingers intertwined with mine. “Together.”
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