The Wolf She Came to Kill

The Battle of Blackridge

The wolves charged.

A tidal wave of fur, claws, and flashing teeth burst from the treeline, their glowing eyes cutting through the morning mist.

Villagers screamed and scattered.

The Silver Order hunters raised their weapons, crossbows snapping upward as silver bolts were hastily loaded.

“Hold the line!” their leader shouted.

But his voice trembled.

Because the creature standing in the middle of the street—the Alpha—didn’t move.

Vargan watched.

Like a king observing a battlefield.

Aria tightened her grip on her dagger.

Her pulse thundered in her ears.

“Kael,” she muttered, not taking her eyes off the incoming wolves. “Any brilliant plans?”

Behind her, Kael rolled his shoulders, his body already shifting with restrained power.

“Try not to die,” he said.

“Fantastic.”

The first wolf lunged.

Aria sidestepped and drove her dagger forward.

Silver flashed.

The blade sank into the creature’s shoulder and it howled, crashing into the dirt beside her.

Another wolf came from the left.

A blur of claws.

Before it could reach her—

Kael moved.

He slammed into the creature like a battering ram, knocking it aside. His eyes burned gold, and for a moment Aria saw the wolf beneath his skin.

Not fully transformed.

But close.

“Behind you!” he barked.

Aria spun.

A second wolf leapt from a wagon roof.

She ducked low and slashed upward, silver carving across its ribs. The beast shrieked and rolled across the street.

Around them, chaos exploded.

Crossbows fired.

Bolts flew.

Some wolves dropped.

Others didn’t even slow down.

One hunter screamed as a wolf tackled him into the mud.

Another vanished beneath snapping jaws.

“Fall back!” someone yelled.

“No retreat!” the leader roared.

Aria barely heard them.

Because Vargan was still watching.