The Howls
1615 Words
Dawn broke over the Whispering Woods like a wound.
I lay on the grass, my body aching, my silver blood still drying on my skin. Beside me, Killian breathed—shallow, but alive. His hand was wrapped around mine. I hadn't noticed when he'd taken it.
The howls had stopped.
But I knew they'd return.
"Raya." Killian's voice was hoarse. "What was that?"
I sat up slowly. The forest was too quiet. No birds. No wind. Just the heavy silence of something waiting.
"I don't know," I admitted. "But it felt old. Older than the curse."
"Older than your uncle?"
"Yes." I looked at him. "My uncle was just a man. A powerful one, but still a man. This—" I gestured toward the treeline, where the dark shapes had vanished. "This is something else."
Killian struggled to sit. His wounds had healed, but he was still weak. "We need to get back to the pack. Warn them."
"Agreed."
We walked in silence.
The forest felt different now. The curse was gone—I could feel it in the earth, in the air. But something had filled the void. Something hungry.
---
The pack house erupted when we returned.
Agatha rushed forward, her ancient eyes wide. "Princess! Alpha! You're alive!"
"Barely," Killian muttered.
I pushed through the crowd. "Everyone, listen to me."
The pack fell silent.
"The curse is broken," I announced. "Your Alpha will recover. The children will heal. The land will thrive again."
Cheers erupted.
I raised my hand. "But something else is out there. Something that woke up when the curse died. I don't know what it is. But I heard it. And it heard me."
Murmurs spread through the crowd.
Agatha stepped closer. "What did you hear, Princess?"
"Not what. Who." I met her eyes. "Hundreds of them. Howling in the dark. And they weren't wolves."
The old woman's face went pale. "Impossible. They were sealed centuries ago."
"Sealed?" Killian stepped forward. "Sealed how?"
Agatha's hands trembled. "The Lycan King—your uncle's predecessor—sealed them beneath the Whispering Woods. They were the original inhabitants. The ones who were here before wolves. Before Lycans. Before anything."
"Who were they?" I asked.
"Nightwalkers," she whispered. "Creatures of shadow and hunger. They fed on the curse. It kept them asleep. Now that it's gone—"
"They're waking up."
The pack erupted in panic.
"Silence!" Killian's voice boomed. "We will not fall apart. We survived the curse. We will survive this."
"But Alpha—" a warrior started.
"I said silence." Killian looked at me. "Raya, what do you need?"
I blinked. He was asking me. Trusting me.
"Information," I said. "Agatha, anything you know about these Nightwalkers. Where they sleep. How they feed. What kills them."
Agatha nodded. "I'll find the old texts."
"And I need a scout team," I continued. "To the eastern border. If they're waking up, they'll come from the caves."
"I'll lead them," Killian said.
"No. You need rest."
"I'm not letting you face this alone."
"You're not letting me—"
"I'm not letting you die." His voice cracked. "I've watched you almost die twice now. I can't do it again."
The pack watched. Whispers spread.
The Alpha is begging.
He's in love with her.
She should make him suffer more.
I met his eyes. "Fine. You lead the scouts. But if I tell you to retreat, you retreat. No heroics."
He nodded. "Agreed."
---
Two hours later, Killian and six warriors left for the eastern border.
I stayed in the pack house, reading Agatha's ancient texts by candlelight. The pages were brittle, the language old—older than Lycan. But I pieced it together.
Nightwalkers. Creatures born from the first shadow. They feed on despair. They hunt by fear. They cannot enter places of true light or love.
The only way to kill them is with silver blessed by a Lycan's blood.
I looked at my wrist. Silver blood. I had plenty of that.
But there were hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.
I couldn't kill them all alone.
I slammed the book shut. "Agatha."
She appeared in the doorway. "Princess?"
"How many Nightwalkers are there?"
"According to the old records... three thousand."
My heart dropped. "Three thousand?"
"They were the original inhabitants of this land. When the Lycans arrived, they didn't kill them—they sealed them. The curse fed them. Now that the curse is gone, they'll hunger for something else."
"What do they hunger for?"
Agatha's eyes were haunted. "Wolves. Lycans. Humans. Anything with a soul."
I stood. "Then we fight."
"With what army? We have seventy wolves. They have thousands."
I walked to the window. The sun was setting. The howls would come soon.
"Then we don't fight," I said. "We outsmart them."
---
The howls came at midnight.
I stood at the pack border with thirty warriors, silver daggers blessed with my blood. Killian had returned with his scouts—no casualties, but his face was grim.
"There's an army gathering in the caves," he reported. "Thousands of them. They're waiting for something."
"For what?"
"Nightfall. They can't move in daylight."
"Then we have until dawn to prepare."
I turned to the pack. "Listen to me. They feed on fear. If you're afraid, they'll find you. If you despair, they'll consume you. You must stay strong. You must fight with everything you have."
"What about you, Princess?" a warrior asked.
I smiled—cold, sharp, determined. "I'm going to give them something else to feed on."
---
I walked into the Whispering Woods alone.
Silver blood dripped from my wrists, leaving a trail behind me. The Nightwalkers would smell it. They'd come.
And I'd be waiting.
The trees darkened as I went deeper. Shadows moved. Whispers echoed.
She's alone.
She's bleeding.
She's afraid.
I wasn't afraid.
I found the cave—the same one where the heart had been. But now it was different. Dark shapes moved inside. Eyes glowed. Hundreds of them.
They emerged.
Tall. Shadowy. Formless. They had no faces—just hunger.
"Lycan princess," a voice hissed. "You woke us."
"I killed the curse. It was killing my pack."
"Your pack stole our land. Your ancestors sealed us. Now you will pay."
The Nightwalkers surged forward.
I raised my hands—and silver light exploded.
---
The light was blinding. The Nightwalkers screamed, recoiling. I pushed the light outward, pouring everything I had into it.
But there were too many.
They pushed back. Darkness crawled toward me, swallowing the light. I was losing.
"You cannot fight us alone, princess."
"I'm not alone."
Killian appeared at my side. Then Marcus. Then Agatha. Then thirty warriors, all holding silver blades blessed with Lycan blood.
"We stand with you, Princess," Killian said.
The Nightwalkers hissed. "The Alpha. The one who rejected her. How fitting."
"Things change," Killian said.
He charged.
The battle was chaos.
Silver clashed with shadow. Wolves howled. Nightwalkers screamed. I fought beside Killian, our backs together, our bond blazing.
"Stay close," he shouted.
"I can handle myself."
"I know. But I can't fight if I'm worrying about you."
We fought through the night.
Warriors fell. Nightwalkers scattered. But for every one we killed, ten more emerged.
"We can't hold them!" Marcus shouted. "There are too many!"
I looked at the cave. The heart was gone, but the shadows were pouring from the walls.
They're connected to the earth.
The thought hit me like a thunderbolt.
"Killian!" I grabbed his arm. "They're connected to the ground. The land. If we can't kill them all, we have to seal them again."
"How?"
"The heart was Lycan magic. I poured my blood into it—that broke the curse. If I pour my blood into the earth, it might create a new seal."
"Will it kill you?"
"I don't know."
"I'm not losing you again, Raya. There has to be another way."
"There isn't." I pulled my silver dagger. "Marcus. Agatha. Get everyone to the border."
"Raya—" Killian started.
"I'll survive." I met his eyes. "I always do."
He kissed me.
Not gently. Not hesitantly. Desperately. Like I was the air he was breathing.
When he pulled back, his eyes were wet.
"You better survive," he whispered. "Or I'll follow you to the afterlife and grovel there too."
"Shut up and go."
He ran.
I turned to the cave.
The Nightwalkers surged toward me, hungry, furious.
"You want me?" I raised the dagger. "Come and get me."
I plunged the blade into my own chest.
Silver blood poured out—not just silver, but gold. Pure. Ancient. Royal.
It soaked into the earth.
The ground roared.
Light exploded. The Nightwalkers screamed. The shadows recoiled, pulled back into the earth, sealed again.
But I fell.
And the darkness swallowed me.
---
I woke to moonlight.
And Killian's face above me, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Raya! Raya, stay with me. Please."
I couldn't speak. I could barely breathe.
"You're going to be fine," he said. "You have to be fine. I haven't even started groveling yet."
I laughed weakly. "That's... the only reason?"
"That's the first reason." He pressed his forehead to mine. "The second is that I love you. I'm sorry it took me so long to say it. I'm sorry I rejected you. I'm sorry for everything. But I love you. I love you, Raya."
I looked into his eyes.
And for the first time, I believed him.
"I love you too," I whispered. "Even though I shouldn't."
He kissed me.
The bond between us burned—not with pain, but with joy.
And deep in the earth, something stirred.
Something that wasn't Nightwalkers.
Something worse.
---
- Writer
