WEREWOLF: THE LAST BRIDE OF CHAOS

The night still smelled of smoke and iron. I could taste both on my tongue, sharp as blades, bitter as betrayal. The air hung heavy, thick enough to choke, though maybe that was just grief lodged in my throat. My village no longer existed. Where the cottages had once stood, only charred beams jutted out like the ribs of a dead beast. The fields where children used to laugh and chase one another were scorched black, as if the gods themselves had dragged fire across the earth. And the people… gods, the people. Gone. All of them. Except me. I stumbled barefoot across the ruins, my arms locked tight around the small, lifeless body of my brother. His weight was wrong. Too still. Too cold. Only hours ago he’d been warm against me, begging me to tell him one more story before sleep. His dark hair had smelled of river reeds, his laughter had filled the house like sunlight. Now, his head lolled against my arm, and his silence was louder than the fire that had devoured him. The Nightborne had done this. I had seen them. Not phantoms, not old myths to frighten children. Wolves walking upright like men, eyes glowing with the light of the damned. Claws like sickles, teeth drenched in blood. The villagers screamed when they came, but it hadn’t mattered. No steel had pierced their hides. No prayer had saved us. And no one would believe me. They never had. I reached the ruined temple at the heart of the village. Its doors were gone, ripped from their hinges. The altar was cracked, its stone blackened. The old gods had abandoned us long before this night, but still, I laid my brother there gently, smoothing his hair with hands that wouldn’t stop shaking. My lips moved though I wasn’t sure if the words were prayers or curses. “Take him,” I whispered. “If you’re still listening, take him somewhere better than this. But me? Leave me. Leave me here.” The gods said nothing. The silence mocked me. I pressed my forehead to his and let the tears come, hot and ugly, streaking down my ash-stained face. “I’ll find them,” I swore into the hollow of his ear. “I’ll find the monsters who did this and tear them apart. Even if I have to bleed myself dry.” My scar throbbed then. The spiral etched into my wrist, pale as ash, glimmering faintly like silver caught in the moonlight. I clenched my fist and pulled my sleeve down, hiding it even though no one remained to see. I didn’t know why it burned. I only knew it had always marked me as different. Unwanted whispers had followed me since I was a child. Cursed. Strange. Touched by shadows. Maybe they had been right. The night pressed in, colder than it should have been with flames still smoldering. Every shadow looked like a wolf. Every creak of timber made my heart jolt. My body screamed at me to run, but where? There was nothing left. No home. No family. No future. Only the promise I had carved into myself with grief and fury. Revenge. The word was a knife in my chest, sharp enough to keep me standing. I straightened, wiping my face with the back of my hand, smearing tears and soot alike. I kissed my brother’s forehead once more. Then I turned away, because if I didn’t, I would shatter into pieces too small to ever be put back together. The village groaned around me as if mourning its own death. Somewhere in the ashes, a beam collapsed, sending sparks spitting into the night. My bare feet crunched over bone and stone, each step carving the memory of this place deeper into me. I wanted the pain. I wanted it branded into my soul so I’d never forget what was stolen from me. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled. I froze. The sound was low, stretched with hunger, carrying across the hollow night like a taunt. My heart hammered so hard I thought it might c***k my ribs. I knew wolves. I knew the ordinary kind that hunted the forest’s edge. This wasn’t one of them. This howl was older. Wrong. I wrapped my arms around myself, eyes scanning the tree line beyond the ruins. The firelight didn’t reach far enough. Darkness shifted between the trunks, too quick, too smooth. “Come out,” I whispered, voice raw. “If you’re going to kill me, do it. Don’t play.” Silence answered me. For a moment, I thought I had imagined it, my grief making phantoms of shadows. My body ached with exhaustion, begging me to collapse. But then— Snap. The c***k of a branch beneath weight heavy enough to break it. I spun, breath caught in my throat, eyes wide. And I saw them. Not wolves. Not men. Something in between. Eyes glowed in the dark, reflecting firelight like silver coins. Shoulders hunched broad as beasts, claws curled sharp at their sides. One. Two. Three. Watching me. Hunting me. My scar blazed, pain shooting up my arm like fire in my veins. I bit down on a cry, clutching my wrist, as if I could smother the light seeping from it. But the glow only grew stronger, silver spiraling brighter with each throb of my pulse. The creatures snarled low in their throats, and I realized with horror they weren’t just staring at me. They were answering me.