Chapter 16
970 Words
The first light of dawn broke across the horizon as the pack gathered at the edge of the northern trail. Mist clung to the ground, the air sharp with the scent of pine and ash from the pyres still smoldering behind them.
Seraphina stood at the center of it all, her pack-supplied gear slung across her back, her fingers tight around the leather straps. She could feel the pack’s eyes on her—some curious, some wary, some grateful.
Darius stood at her side, a steady, commanding presence. He had shed his usual dark clothes for something more practical: fitted leathers, a silver-edged dagger strapped to his thigh, his Alpha mark branded clearly against his collarbone. The sight of him like this—ready for war—sent an unexpected jolt through her stomach.
“You ready?” he asked, his voice low enough for her alone.
“As I’ll ever be,” she said, her chin lifting.
Eira, the pack seer, moved to the front of the group, her silver hair glinting in the rising sun. “The road ahead will not be kind,” she warned, her voice carrying easily. “The Shadow Vale is a place of nightmares. Keep close to one another, trust no sound you hear, no shape you see. And if you lose sight of the light…” Her eyes landed on Seraphina. “Follow hers.”
Darius’s hand brushed Seraphina’s briefly, a silent promise.
Then, with a howl that rippled through the air, the war party moved out.
The first day was long and tense.
They followed the narrow trail through the mountains, the terrain steep and treacherous. The mist seemed to grow thicker the higher they climbed, curling between the trees like ghostly fingers.
By midday, the air had turned colder, heavy with the smell of wet earth and magic.
“This feels wrong,” Nadia murmured, notching an arrow to her bow.
“It is wrong,” Eira said simply. “The Vale begins here. From this point on, you walk between worlds.”
Seraphina shivered. The shadows seemed deeper now, the trees too still, as though the forest itself was holding its breath.
That night, they made camp in a hollow surrounded by jagged stones. A fire was lit, though its light seemed to struggle against the encroaching dark.
Darius stayed on watch, his golden eyes reflecting the firelight as he scanned the perimeter.
Seraphina sat a few feet away, trying—and failing—to ignore the way her body ached, not from the journey but from everything that had been building between them.
When the camp had quieted, she rose and approached him.
“You haven’t stopped moving since we left,” she said quietly.
He didn’t look at her. “Can’t afford to. Not out here.”
She stepped closer, until the firelight caught the hard lines of his face. “You’ll burn yourself out if you don’t rest.”
He finally looked at her then, something unguarded flashing in his eyes. “You’re one to talk.”
Her lips curved despite the tension. “Fair.”
For a long moment, they simply stood there, the silence between them louder than the wind.
Then Darius reached out, his fingers brushing her jaw. “You scare me, you know,” he said softly.
Her breath caught. “Me?”
“You make me want things I shouldn’t want,” he said, his thumb tracing her cheek. “You make me forget that there’s a war waiting for us just beyond those trees.”
Her pulse thudded in her throat. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”
He stared at her for a moment longer, then swore under his breath and closed the distance between them.
The kiss was slow this time, deliberate, like he was memorizing her mouth. Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them.
When they broke apart, both breathing hard, he rested his forehead against hers.
“If we keep going like this,” he murmured, “I won’t stop next time.”
“Then don’t,” she whispered before she could think better of it.
His growl was soft but primal, vibrating through her bones.
But before he could answer, a low, mournful howl cut through the night.
They both froze.
“That’s not one of ours,” Darius said, his voice sharp again.
Nadia was already on her feet, bow in hand. “It’s coming from the eastern ridge.”
Darius’s wolf surged close to the surface, his muscles coiling. “Wake everyone. We move now.”
They tracked the sound through the forest, the mist parting around them like it knew they were coming.
At the ridge, they found blood—fresh, dark against the snow-dusted earth.
And in the center of the clearing, a single object: Kaelen’s pendant, the one Seraphina had given him for his twelfth birthday.
Her stomach dropped.
“Lucien’s playing with us,” Rowan said grimly.
“Or warning us,” Eira murmured, her expression unreadable. “The Black Moon grows closer. He’s baiting you, Alpha.”
Darius picked up the pendant, his fingers tightening around it until his knuckles went white.
“Then he’s going to regret it,” he said, his voice deadly calm.
Back at camp, Seraphina sat by the fire, turning the pendant over and over in her hands.
Darius approached quietly, crouching in front of her.
“We’ll get him back,” he said, his voice rough but certain.
Her throat felt tight. “What if we’re too late?”
His hand covered hers, stilling the motion of the pendant. “We won’t be.”
She met his gaze, and for the first time since the night began, she believed him.
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