Blood remembered

Chapter 5: The Border Smells Like Smoke

Gray Ridge territory starts where the trees stop lying. Crescent Pack’s forest is tall, clean, controlled. Gray Ridge is wild. Twisted pines, fog that sits low, and the smell of iron and smoke in the air. We made it. Barely. Sarah’s leaning on me more than she’ll admit. Her side is bleeding through the bandage again. Mine too. The mark won’t stop. Every step closer to the border, the broken crescent on my throat felt like it was being dragged through glass.

“Almost there,”

I muttered. My voice sounded wrecked.

“Just over that ridge.”

She nodded. Didn’t speak. Smart. Talking wastes air. The bond between us was screaming. Not pain. Warning. Something was wrong.Then I smelled it. Blood. Old. And fresh. I pulled her behind me instantly.

“Stay back.”

Three bodies were in the snow at the edge of the territory line. Gray Ridge wolves. Their throats were torn out. Not by wolves. By claws. Big ones. My stomach turned.

“This isn’t a pack kill.”

Sarah made a small sound.

“What did this?”

“Something that isn’t supposed to exist anymore.”

The old stories. The ones my father burned. About creatures that lived before the moon. About the reason the moon split in the first place. A twig cracked behind us. I spun, shifting halfway. Claws out, teeth bared.

“Show yourself!”

Nothing. Just fog. Then a voice. Low. Amused. From everywhere and nowhere.

“Well. If it isn’t the cursed prince.”

A figure stepped out of the mist. Tall. Cloaked in black. Face hidden. But I could see hands. Too many joints. Nails like knives. Sarah grabbed my arm. Her fingers were ice. Through the bond I felt it: pure terror. The figure tilted its head.

“The moon rejected you. How interesting. It usually doesn’t do that unless...”

“Unless what?”

I snarled.

“Unless you’re the key.”

The word hit me like a punch.

"Key to what? "

The creature laughed. It sounded like bones breaking.

“Run, little Alpha. Run to your new home. Tell Alpha King Varga of Gray Ridge that the Marked have returned. Tell him the moon is bleeding.”

It turned and walked into the fog. Just like that. No fight. No chase. Because it wanted us to run. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. My legs were shaking. Sarah was staring at me.

“Ryan. What did it mean?”

“I don’t know.”

And I hated that. I was supposed to know. I was the heir. But all I knew was this: we weren’t safe in Crescent Pack. And we might not be safe here either. I looked at the border. One more step and we’d be in Gray Ridge. One more step and my father couldn’t legally touch us. But something else could.

Sarah squeezed my hand.

“Do we cross?”

I looked at her. Snow in her hair. Blood on her dress. The broken mark glowing faintly in the dark.

She was scared. But she wasn’t breaking. And neither was I. Not with her here.

“Yeah,”

I said.

“We cross.”

We stepped over the line together. The moment we did, the air changed. Colder. Heavier. And the mark on my throat went dead quiet. No more burning. For the first time tonight, it stopped hurting. Sarah gasped.

“It stopped.”

Mine too, I realized. The bond was still there, but the pain was gone. Behind us, in Crescent territory, a howl split the night. My father’s. He knew we crossed. Ahead of us, in the fog, I saw lights. Gray Ridge’s camp. And I had no idea if they were going to help us... or kill us slower.