Chapter Thirty-Four
1848 Words
Movement exploded behind the warrior.
A dozen rogues emerged from the trees.
Fast.
Too fast.
The warrior barely had time to turn.
One of the rogues caught him by the throat.
The sound cut off instantly.
His feet left the ground.
For one horrible second, Rowan watched him claw desperately at the rogue's face.
Then his body went limp.
Evelyn gasped.
The warrior crumpled to the ground.
Dead.
The rogue's eyes lifted.
And locked onto them.
Silence fell.
Not true silence.
There were still screams.
Still alarms.
Still chaos.
But for one terrible moment, Rowan heard none of it.
The rogues started toward them.
Slowly.
Confidently.
Like they already knew how this ended.
Rowan moved without thinking.
Her arm shot out.
Pushing Evelyn behind her.
The movement was automatic.
Instinct.
Protection.
Her hands reached over her shoulders.
Steel sang.
Both swords slid free.
The familiar weight settled instantly into her palms.
Comforting.
Reliable.
Home.
The lead rogue snarled.
A mistake.
"Can you fight?"
"No."
The answer came immediately.
Good.
No pretending.
No wasted time.
"Can you shift?"
"Yes."
The rogues continued forward.
Spreading out slightly.
Trying to circle them.
Trying to cut off escape.
Trying to make sure there was nowhere to run.
Rowan counted automatically.
Twelve.
Maybe thirteen.
Too many.
"Then if this goes south—"
Her grip tightened.
"Shift and run."
Evelyn's eyes widened.
"Rowan—"
"I mean it, leave me and go get help."
The word came out sharper than intended.
Not cruel.
Just urgent.
The first rogue lunged.
Rowan met him halfway.
Steel flashed.
The wolf never reached her.
One blade sliced across its throat.
The second buried itself deep beneath its ribs.
Blood sprayed.
The body crashed to the ground.
The next rogue hit her almost immediately.
Claws slashed through the air.
Rowan ducked.
Spun.
And drove a sword through its shoulder.
The wolf screamed.
She ripped the blade free.
Pivoted.
Another rogue.
Another strike.
Another body.
No hesitation.
No wasted movement.
Every motion efficient.
Precise.
Years of training taking over.
The world narrowed.
Not to fear.
Not to panic.
To angles.
Distance.
Movement.
The next rogue came from her left.
She saw it.
Adjusted.
Countered.
Steel met flesh.
A body fell.
Then another.
Then another.
Somewhere behind her, Evelyn shouted something.
Rowan didn't hear it.
Couldn't.
The battle had consumed everything.
A rogue darted in low.
Too low.
Its shoulder slammed into her legs.
The impact nearly knocked her off balance.
Rowan stumbled.
Recovered.
Barely.
The wolf lunged again.
She drove a knee into its chest.
Then brought both swords down.
The body stopped moving.
Five.
Maybe six.
She wasn't sure anymore.
The numbers blurred together.
The rogues didn't.
They kept coming.
Gods.
They just kept coming.
One slipped past her defenses.
Claws raked across her upper arm.
Pain flashed hot and immediate.
Rowan hissed.
Then retaliated.
The wolf died before it could pull away.
Blood dripped down her sleeve.
She ignored it.
Another rogue.
Another attack.
Another body.
Her breathing grew heavier.
Her shoulders burned.
The swords felt slightly heavier than they had a few minutes ago.
The realization annoyed her.
She'd fought longer than this before.
Harder than this before.
But she'd also slept.
Eaten.
Not spent the last several days emotionally imploding.
A rogue feinted left.
Then came right.
Smart.
Rowan barely avoided the strike.
Claws sliced across her side.
Pain exploded through her ribs.
She gritted her teeth.
Kept moving.
Kept fighting.
No choice.
Not while Evelyn was behind her.
Not while the rogues were still standing.
A growl echoed through the clearing.
Low.
Dangerous.
One of the remaining rogues began circling.
Watching her.
Waiting.
Predators.
They'd noticed.
Noticed the slowing.
The fatigue.
The blood.
They knew she was getting tired.
Rowan adjusted her grip on her swords.
And smiled.
A cold smile.
A warrior's smile.
The kind that promised somebody was about to regret their decisions.
"Come on then."
The words came out breathless.
Covered in blood.
And entirely sincere.
The nearest rogue lunged.
Three more followed.
And suddenly things got much worse.
The nearest rogue lunged.
Three more followed.
And suddenly things got much worse.
Rowan moved.
Instinct. Training. Experience.
The first wolf reached her a fraction of a second before the others.
Her sword flashed.
Blood sprayed.
The rogue collapsed.
But the second was already there.
Claws raked across her shoulder.
Pain exploded through her arm.
Rowan hissed.
The impact spun her sideways.
The third rogue hit her immediately afterward.
Not claws.
Weight.
The wolf slammed into her ribs like a battering ram.
Air burst from her lungs.
Her footing vanished.
The world tilted.
Then the fourth rogue arrived.
Gods.
Too many.
Rowan barely got one sword up in time.
Teeth snapped inches from her face.
The force of the impact sent her stumbling backward.
She twisted.
Countered.
Drove a blade into the wolf's neck.
The body dropped.
Another immediately took its place.
They weren't fighting like normal rogues.
That realization hit hard.
Usually rogues were reckless.
Wild.
Uncoordinated.
These weren't.
These wolves were working together.
Testing.
Pressuring.
Waiting for mistakes.
Waiting for exhaustion.
Waiting for her to break.
A growl ripped from Rowan's throat.
She wasn't breaking.
Not today.
A rogue darted in from her blind side.
She saw it too late.
Claws ripped across her back.
White-hot pain exploded through her body.
Her vision flashed.
For one terrifying second, her grip loosened.
One sword slipped from her hand.
The blade disappeared into the grass.
"ROWAN!"
Evelyn.
Fear sharpened the sound.
Rowan recovered immediately.
Too late.
The remaining rogues had noticed.
Of course they had.
Predators.
They smelled weakness.
Blood.
Fatigue.
Opportunity.
One of them lunged.
Then another.
Then another.
Rowan blocked the first strike.
Dodged the second.
The third caught her.
A shoulder slammed into her chest.
She hit the ground hard.
Pain shot through her ribs.
The forest spun.
The rogue was on her instantly.
Teeth.
Claws.
Weight.
Death.
Rowan got one sword up.
Barely.
Jaws snapped shut around steel.
The wolf snarled.
Fighting her for the blade.
Rowan gritted her teeth.
Muscles screaming.
The wolf pushed harder.
And harder.
And harder.
Something warm dripped down her arm.
Blood.
Too much blood.
Behind her, Evelyn screamed her name again.
And suddenly—
Nyra stopped asking.
LET ME HELP.
The voice slammed through her mind.
Desperate.
Furious.
Terrified.
ROWAN.
The wolf pushed harder.
Its jaws inches from her throat now.
Rowan's arm trembled.
LET ME HELP!
"I've got it—"
The lie barely formed.
Even Rowan knew it.
Nyra did too.
YOU DON'T.
The words hit like a punch.
Because they were true.
Gods.
They were true.
The rogue snarled.
More movement appeared behind it.
Two more wolves closing in.
Three.
Maybe four.
Too many.
Far too many.
Rowan's arm buckled.
The wolf surged forward.
Its teeth flashed.
Rowan's gaze snapped toward Evelyn.
The other woman stood frozen several yards away.
Terrified.
Watching.
Waiting.
Still there.
Gods.
Still there.
Their eyes met.
And Rowan shouted—
"NOW!"
The word cracked through the clearing.
"RUN!"
Evelyn froze for half a heartbeat.
Then understanding hit.
The shift took her instantly.
One moment a woman stood there.
The next, a sleek silver wolf exploded into motion.
She ran.
Fast.
Exactly like Rowan had told her to.
Relief hit so hard Rowan almost laughed.
Good.
Now she could stop holding back.
Nyra's voice shook the inside of her skull.
LET ME HELP.
This time Rowan didn't argue.
Didn't fight.
Didn't pretend she still had this.
She bared her teeth.
And whispered—
"Okay."
The word escaped as a growl.
A surrender.
A trust fall.
A partnership.
Help me.
Nyra exploded forward.
The shift was instant.
Violent.
Magnificent.
Bones shattered and reformed.
Muscles tore and rebuilt.
The rogue's eyes widened.
Too late.
A massive gray wolf erupted beneath it.
The rogue never even had time to react.
Nyra hit it like a landslide.
Teeth buried deep.
The wolf screamed.
Then stopped.
The body slammed into the dirt.
Dead.
The clearing froze.
For one impossible second, every remaining rogue stared.
Nyra stood over the corpse.
Blood staining her muzzle.
Golden eyes blazing.
Chest heaving.
Fur bristling.
Ancient.
Terrifying.
The head warrior of Cedar Ridge was gone.
The wolf remained.
And Nyra was done playing nice.
A low growl rolled through the clearing.
The sound sent chills through the air itself.
One rogue took a step backward.
A mistake.
Nyra launched.
The battle truly began.
The battle truly began.
Another rogue lunged.
Nyra met him halfway.
The wolf expected a fight.
Instead, he hit a storm.
She slammed into him hard enough to send both of them skidding through the dirt.
The rogue recovered first.
A mistake.
Nyra's jaws closed around his foreleg.
The scream echoed through the clearing.
She jerked violently.
Something snapped.
The wolf collapsed.
Nyra was already moving.
Another rogue came from the side.
Claws flashed.
Pain streaked across her shoulder.
The attack barely registered.
She spun.
Fast.
Her body collided with his.
The impact lifted him completely off the ground.
The rogue crashed into a nearby tree.
Wood cracked.
The wolf didn't get back up.
A third rogue attacked immediately.
Then a fourth.
Good.
Finally.
Something worth fighting.
They came together.
Trying to overwhelm her.
Trying to drag her down with numbers.
Trying to finish what they'd started.
Nyra welcomed it.
One wolf lunged high.
Another low.
A third circled behind.
Predator tactics.
Smart.
For rogues.
Nyra ducked beneath the first.
Shouldered through the second.
Then twisted.
Her jaws found the third before he reached her blind side.
The wolf screamed.
Nyra didn't let go.
Wouldn't let go.
The body hit the ground a few seconds later.
The remaining rogues began backing up.
Not retreating.
Repositioning.
Trying to decide what she was.
Trying to understand why one wolf had suddenly become a m******e.
Blood dripped from Nyra's muzzle.
Her chest heaved.
The cuts across Rowan's body burned.
The exhaustion remained.
But now?
Now the pain belonged to both of them.
And Nyra was far better at being angry.
A growl rolled from deep inside her chest.
One of the rogues flinched.
Actually flinched.
Good.
Fear was healthy.
Fear kept creatures alive.
Unfortunately for him—
He'd learned it too late.
Nyra charged.
The rogue turned.
Then ran.
Coward.
She chased him immediately.
The forest blurred.
Trees flashed past.
Leaves exploded beneath her paws.
The distance vanished almost instantly.
The rogue glanced back.
Saw her.
Panic flooded his scent.
Nyra hit him before he could look forward again.
They crashed through a wall of brush.
Branches snapped.
The rogue screamed.
Then didn't.
Nyra emerged alone.
Blood stained her fur.
Her golden eyes swept across the battlefield.
And for the first time—
The rogues broke.
Not strategically.
Not orderly.
They ran.
Every direction.
Every wolf for himself.
The attack had stopped being a hunt.
Now it was survival.
And every one of them knew it.
Nyra stood in the center of the clearing.
Bloodied.
Breathing hard.
Victorious.
Then somewhere in the distance—
A familiar howl echoed through the forest.
Silver Moon.
Reinforcements.
Finally.
- Writer
