Hunted By Darkness

"No!" The scream ripped from Elara’s throat—raw, broken, and unstoppable. Time shattered around her, slowing into something thick and cruel. Her mother’s body crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut. One moment, alive. The next— Gone. Blood. It was everywhere. Elara didn’t think. She dropped to her knees, gravel biting into her skin. Her father was already there, hands shaking as he pressed down on her mother’s chest, desperate, frantic. "Avery! "Stay with me!" His voice cracked—shattering, hopeless. Elara’s hands found her mother’s—cold, ice-cold. "No, no… Mom, stay with me." The words tumbled out, strangled by fear. Her mother’s eyes fluttered weakly. Fading. Slipping away. "I love you…" The words were soft. Barely there. A breath and then— Stillness. "No!" Elara shook. "Mom! Please! "Wake up!" But her mother didn’t move. The crushing weight of reality slammed into her—she was gone. Her father let out a sound that wasn’t human. Pure pain, raw and jagged. His hands fell away, covered in blood. Then the air shifted. Heavy. Wrong. Suddenly, the air shifted—thick and suffocating. A shadow fell over them, heavy with danger. Her father’s head snapped up. "Elara, run!" His voice was sharp and desperate, filled with finality. "You have to go—now!" But Elara didn’t move. Rage boiled in her veins, cutting through her fear. "No! I won’t leave you! We have to fight back!" His hands grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to meet his eyes—eyes full of fear, love, and goodbye. "You want to avenge her? You have to survive first! Go!" The ground trembled as something darker approached—an ancient evil, thick as night. Elara’s heart thundered in her chest, her body frozen in place. "Why?! Why did she have to die like that?!" "Run, Elara! Avenge for her later—live now!" The cold wind howled as she turned and ran, her mother’s final breath haunting her every step. Elara’s footsteps faded into the distance, swallowed by the thick, merciless night. But he didn’t turn to watch her go. He couldn’t. The shadow was already here. He rose slowly from the ground, fists clenched so tight his nails bit into his palms. The blood on his hands—her blood—was still warm, but it wouldn’t be for long. The weight of loss carved itself into his chest, but there was no time to grieve. The air twisted, colder than death itself. From the darkness, something moved—slithering between the trees like smoke. The figure wasn’t fully there. A void wrapped in shadow, pulsing with hunger. He stood his ground. "You won’t touch her." His voice didn’t shake. It was carved from stone, even as grief tore him apart from the inside. The shadows laughed—low, cruel, and endless. "You can’t stop me. You’re already broken." "No." He spread his stance, calling every ounce of strength left in his bones. "You don’t get to break me." Not while Elara is still breathing." The ground trembled as the darkness surged forward—fast, merciless. He didn’t move. His body was weak, but his spirit burned brighter than fear. For Avery. The first strike came fast—cold claws of darkness lashing at his chest. He staggered but didn’t fall. His body screamed in agony, but his heart roared louder. Not yet. He lunged forward, fists swinging with raw desperation. He wasn’t strong enough to kill it—but if he could slow it down, even for a second. "Come on!" His voice cracked, rage and heartbreak tangled into every word. "You want me? You’ll have to finish this!" The shadow hesitated—just for a breath. The creature’s voice slithered through the cold air, low and venomous. "You were never enough to stop me." The creature attacked him. Another strike. This one hit deeper. His body buckled—blood pouring from his mouth as he sank to his knees. The pain didn’t matter. Only Elara did. The shadows surged forward, wrapping around him—tight, cold, final. His last breath left him in silence. The forest fell still. He was gone. Ronan Draelis stood on the balcony, the wind biting into his skin. The forest stretched endlessly below, dark and restless. This place was supposed to be a sanctuary. For him, it was a cage. Something was wrong. His pack felt it—distracted, weak. The air itself carried a weight, thick with the promise of something dark. The elders’ warning echoed in his head: Find your mate or the curse will devour us all. Every night, I have the same dream. A woman hidden in the shadows. Crimson light. Her presence burned him like fire. She’s out there. Knock. Knock. "Enter," Ronan growled. Thane stepped in, face grim. "An incident. Southern border." Ronan turned, tension coiling tight. "What happened?" "Energy surge. Old. Violent. Scorch marks. The earth… feels cursed." Ronan’s jaw clenched. "Anything else?" Thane hesitated. "A scent. Not ours. Not natural. It smelled like… fate." The word hit hard. She’s close. "Ready the trackers," Ronan ordered. "Find her before nightfall." "You think it’s her?" Ronan didn’t answer. His instincts screamed the truth. If I don’t find her first… Kalen will. Elara The silence was the first sign. Kneeling by the forest’s edge, her fingers brushed the moss. Then—nothing. No wind. No birds. Just a suffocating stillness. Her breath hitched. A figure stepped from the shadows. Tall. Powerful. His presence crackled like a storm waiting to break. His eyes locked on her wrist, then her face. His voice was sharp, cutting through the air. Elara’s breath hitched. The way Ronan’s eyes burned into her—possessive, certain—sent a surge of panic clawing through her chest. “You’re mine, Elara. "That mark binds you to me.” His voice was low, deep, undeniable. Like the earth itself was making a claim. Her heartbeat thudded painfully in her ears. No. I don’t belong to anyone. “Stay away from me!” Her voice was sharp, cutting, but it shook with fear. Ronan stepped forward, slow and deliberate. “You can’t run from fate.” Watch me. Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. She turned and ran. The cold air burned her lungs as she tore through the trees, her feet pounding against the forest floor. Branches clawed at her arms and her legs, but she didn’t care. Every inch of her screamed to get away—away from him, away from the bond, away from the crushing certainty in his voice. But she could feel him behind her. His presence wasn’t just physical—it was in her blood now, pulling her back toward him like a magnetic force. “Elara!” His voice thundered after her, powerful and commanding. Her legs screamed for her to stop, to obey, but she forced herself forward. No. I won’t be caught. Not again. Not by him. The forest closed in, shadows twisting unnaturally with every step. The cold wasn’t just biting—it was suffocating, thick with something ancient and wrong. And then—it returned. That feeling. The dark presence that had haunted the night her mother died. A cold shiver raced down her spine. The air seemed to pulse around her, thick and heavy. The shadows… they were moving. Watching. This isn’t just about Ronan. Something else is here. “Elara, STOP!” Ronan’s voice was closer now, too close. The bond burned under her skin—a searing reminder that he was gaining on her. But she didn’t stop. She pushed harder, her breath tearing from her throat like fire. Then— Snap. The ground gave way beneath her feet, and she fell—tumbling hard down a slope, crashing through roots and dead leaves. Pain shot through her limbs as she finally hit the ground with a brutal thud. Get up. You have to get up. But before she could move, the surrounding shadows thickened, swallowing the trees whole. A cold, oily voice slithered through the air—too close, too familiar. “You can run from him… but you’ll never outrun me.” Her breath froze in her chest. No. Not again. Please, no. Then Ronan was there. His hand gripped her arm, pulling her up roughly. His eyes burned with something fierce—protective and furious all at once. “Get behind me. Now.” But it was already too late. The darkness surged forward—alive, ancient, and hungry. And Elara realized, with a sinking dread, that she wasn’t just running from Ronan. She was running from something much worse. This wasn’t a nightmare. This was fate, and it had come to collect.