Chapter 12 – The First Kill
569 Words
The clearing erupted in chaos.
The three red-eyed wolves lunged at once, their snarls shredding the night. Draven met them head-on, his massive frame colliding with the first in a brutal clash of claws and teeth. Blood sprayed as his jaws locked around its throat, snapping bone in a sickening crack.
Elara staggered back, her breath frozen. She had never seen such violence, never seen raw power unleashed with such fury. Draven wasn’t just fighting — he was destroying.
The second wolf circled, aiming for Elara. She gasped, stumbling toward a tree, but Draven was faster. He threw the first corpse aside and launched himself at the attacker. They collided mid-air, crashing to the earth in a frenzy of snarls.
Elara pressed her hands to her ears, but the sounds still pierced her — tearing flesh, cracking bone, blood hissing on the ground. She wanted to look away, but the bond burned inside her, forcing her to witness.
The third wolf lunged for her blind side. She screamed—then froze as something inside her shifted. For a split second, the world slowed. The wolf’s glowing eyes locked with hers, and she felt… something. Power. Foreign, terrifying, but alive.
Her mark blazed, and the wolf faltered mid-leap as if struck by an unseen force.
Draven took the opening, his fangs ripping into its spine. The beast dropped lifeless at her feet, its body twitching before falling still.
The clearing fell silent. Only the ragged sound of Draven’s breathing remained, his chest heaving, his fur matted with blood. The corpses of three wolves lay scattered around him, the earth painted crimson.
Elara pressed against the tree, trembling so hard her knees almost gave out. She wanted to run to him, but fear rooted her to the ground. The sight of him like this — drenched in blood, golden eyes blazing wild — was both salvation and nightmare.
Slowly, his head turned toward her.
Her breath caught.
Blood dripped from his muzzle, his fangs still bared. For a terrifying moment, she couldn’t tell if he saw her as his mate… or as prey.
“Draven…” she whispered, her voice breaking.
His chest heaved, muscles trembling as the bond warred with the blood moon’s pull. She could feel it inside her too — the anger, the hunger, the savage urge that wasn’t hers but burned through her veins all the same.
He staggered forward.
Elara pressed herself harder against the tree. “Please… don’t.”
Her mark seared hot, her body screaming in pain. She didn’t know if it was warning her… or binding her closer.
Draven stopped inches away, towering over her. His golden eyes flickered wildly — wolf and man fighting for control. A growl rumbled from deep in his chest, low and dangerous.
Then, in a voice torn between beast and man, he forced out her name. “Elara…”
Her tears fell freely. She reached out, her hand trembling as it brushed against his blood-soaked fur.
The bond surged like fire, and for a heartbeat, the fury in his gaze softened. His chest shuddered, his massive frame quaking under the weight of control.
But before relief could wash over her, a howl cut through the forest — shrill, commanding, laced with power.
Other wolves. Dozens of them.
The trees filled with glowing eyes, red and merciless.
Elara’s heart dropped. The first kill had only been the beginning.
- Writer
