Chapter 13 – Surrounded by Shadows
647 Words
The forest came alive with sound.
Dozens of howls echoed through the trees, deep and chilling, the kind that made Elara’s blood run cold. One by one, pairs of glowing red eyes emerged from the darkness, circling the clearing. The air grew heavier with every step they took, their snarls blending into the wild chorus of the blood moon.
Elara’s breath caught. “There are too many…”
Draven moved in front of her, his massive wolf form drenched in blood, his golden eyes blazing with defiance. His aura exploded outward, pressing against the encroaching wolves like a storm. Several hesitated, tails lowering, but the crimson haze in their eyes refused to break. The blood moon had claimed them.
They weren’t pack anymore. They were predators.
The circle tightened. Snarls vibrated in Elara’s ears, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might tear out of her chest. She pressed her back to the tree, her hands trembling.
Draven growled low, his body crouching, every muscle coiled to strike. One against dozens.
“Draven…” Her whisper trembled. “You can’t fight them all.”
He glanced back at her, just for a second. His eyes burned with something fierce, something unyielding. His voice was guttural, forced through fangs. “Then I’ll die trying.”
The first wolf lunged.
Draven met it mid-air, his jaws snapping its neck before the body even hit the ground. Another charged from behind — but Elara screamed, and the mark flared like lightning across her chest. The wolf faltered, its head jerking back as though struck by an unseen force. Draven tore into it without hesitation.
Her knees buckled. Did I do that?
The circle roared, enraged. Three more wolves broke formation, rushing Draven at once. The clearing erupted in chaos — blood, snarls, claws tearing through flesh. The scent of iron choked the air.
Elara pressed her hands over her ears, but it was useless. She could feel everything through the bond. His rage. His pain. Every s***h of a claw against his flesh burned through her veins.
“Stop,” she sobbed, tears streaking her face. “Please, stop!”
But Draven couldn’t stop. He was a storm, a beast unleashed, his wolf tearing through enemy after enemy. The ground was slick with blood, bodies piling around him — yet more eyes kept appearing in the trees, more shadows stepping forward.
Elara’s heart shattered. He was fighting for her, killing for her — but how long before the blood moon twisted his fury back on her?
A wolf broke past Draven, lunging straight for her. Elara screamed, throwing her arms up. The mark on her chest blazed white-hot, and the air cracked like thunder.
The wolf was thrown backward, slammed against a tree so hard the trunk splintered. It crumpled, unmoving.
Elara staggered, gasping for air. The power had come from her — but she didn’t understand it, couldn’t control it.
Draven’s head snapped toward her, blood dripping from his muzzle. His golden eyes widened. For a heartbeat, even through the frenzy, he looked almost… shocked.
“Elara…” His voice was broken, strained between wolf and man.
The bond burned hotter than ever, a chain dragging them both deeper into the storm.
But before she could speak, another howl rose — sharper, colder, commanding the shadows like a blade cutting through the night.
The wolves froze. One by one, their heads lowered. The crimson haze in their eyes flared brighter, their growls falling into eerie silence.
From the darkness beyond the trees, a figure began to emerge.
Not a wolf. A man.
His eyes gleamed crimson in the moonlight, and the pack parted around him like soldiers bowing to their king.
Elara’s blood turned to ice. Whoever he was, the wolves obeyed him. And if Draven was a storm… this man was the one who had unleashed it.
- Writer
