The hunt begins
1080 Words
Chapter Four: The Hunt Begins
The next morning came without warning.
No light. No sound. Just the door slamming open.
Scarlet Miller sat up fast, body sore in places Scarlet Miller didn’t know could hurt. The guards were already waiting, their expressions unreadable.
One of them tossed a bundle of clothes into the cell. “Change. Now.”
Scarlet Miller pulled the rough fabric out. Dark gray shirt. Black pants. Boots with thick soles.
No armor. No protection.
Just enough to move.
She dressed quickly and followed the guards out, steps heavy, throat dry. Scarlet Miller’s body still ached from the last two trials, but She didn’t complain.
Complaining didn’t stop pain.
The hallway was cold. Torches burned low on the walls, throwing shadows everywhere.
At the end, Elias Thorne waited.
Elias Thorne didn’t speak. Just turned and walked.
Scarlet Miller followed him out of the castle and into the woods.
The trees were thick. Tall. Their branches knotted like claws above the trail. The dirt path twisted through fog and silence.
Scarlet Miller hated how quiet it was. Like the forest itself was holding its breath.
Finally, Elias Thorne stopped.
“This is the third trial,” Elias Thorne said. “The Hunt.”
Scarlet Miller raised an eyebrow. “Who’s hunting who?”
Elias Thorne’s gaze didn’t waver. “Both.”
Scarlet Miller looked around. “What does that mean?”
The woman in black stepped from the trees. “There are two wolves in the forest. Exiles. Outlaws. They don’t follow pack law. They kill for sport. For revenge. For fun.”
Scarlet Miller’s stomach turned.
“They’ve been promised a reward if they can catch Scarlet Miller before sunrise.”
Scarlet Miller frowned. “And what’s the reward?”
“Freedom from death,” the woman said flatly. “They were already sentenced. This is their last chance.”
Scarlet Miller’s blood ran cold. “So Scarlet Miller’s the bait?”
Elias Thorne’s eyes narrowed. “Scarlet Miller’s the test.”
Scarlet Miller shook Scarlet Miller’s head. “Scarlet Miller doesn’t have a weapon.”
Elias Thorne handed over a short blade. “Use it right, Scarlet Miller won’t need anything else.”
Scarlet Miller took it.
The handle was worn. The edge was sharp. It felt like a promise in Scarlet Miller’s hand.
“Time starts now,” the woman said.
Scarlet Miller turned and ran into the trees.
No map. No direction. Just run.
Scarlet Miller’s breath fogged the air. Twigs snapped under Scarlet Miller’s boots. Every sound felt louder than it should. The trees swallowed light. The cold bit hard.
Scarlet Miller didn’t stop.
Didn’t look back.
Scarlet Miller found a narrow ridge and climbed fast, fingers scraping against bark and rock. At the top, Scarlet Miller paused and listened.
Nothing.
Then—
A howl.
Low. Deep. Close.
Scarlet Miller dropped flat to the ground and held breath.
The bushes below shook.
A shape moved through the dark. Big. Heavy. Fast.
The exile.
He stepped into the clearing, shirt torn, eyes yellow and wild. His hands were stained with something dark.
He sniffed the air. Turned left. Then right.
Scarlet Miller stayed frozen.
He moved on.
Scarlet Miller waited until the footsteps faded, then crept down the ridge and moved again.
Hours passed. Scarlet Miller didn’t stop. Scarlet Miller climbed, crawled, and slid through mud and roots. Every noise was a threat. Every shadow a trap.
Scarlet Miller reached a dry creek bed and dropped behind a log.
Scarlet Miller’s hands shook. Fingers numb.
Then a snap behind Scarlet Miller.
Scarlet Miller turned too late.
The second exile slammed into Scarlet Miller from behind, knocking Scarlet Miller onto the rocks.
Scarlet Miller rolled and slashed the blade.
The wolf ducked it, grinning wide.
“Scarlet Miller smells like prey,” the exile said, voice low and twisted.
“Scarlet Miller fights like hell,” Scarlet Miller snapped back.
He lunged again.
Scarlet Miller ducked under and drove the blade forward—caught him in the side.
He roared and swiped with claws, catching Scarlet Miller’s arm. Hot pain flared.
Scarlet Miller spun, kicked him back, and ran.
Scarlet Miller didn’t look at the wound.
Didn’t stop to breathe.
Scarlet Miller heard him chasing—fast, loud, hungry.
Scarlet Miller reached a steep hill and ran straight down, feet slipping on wet leaves. At the bottom, Scarlet Miller jumped into a thicket and waited.
Scarlet Miller counted heartbeats.
The exile charged past.
Scarlet Miller burst from hiding and drove the blade into his back with both hands.
He collapsed.
Scarlet Miller dropped to the ground, shaking, blood on fingers, breath catching in Scarlet Miller’s throat.
One exile down.
One left.
Scarlet Miller had no clue how long until sunrise. But Scarlet Miller didn’t care.
Scarlet Miller wasn’t going to die out here.
Scarlet Miller cleaned the blade on a patch of moss and started moving again.
The trees thinned. The sky turned a lighter shade of gray.
Dawn was near.
Then Scarlet Miller saw the second exile again.
Waiting.
Blocking the path.
He was bigger than the first. Smarter.
He grinned when Scarlet Miller stopped.
“Scarlet Miller got lucky with the other one,” he said. “Won’t happen twice.”
Scarlet Miller gripped the blade.
“You think Scarlet Miller came this far to die now?” Scarlet Miller asked.
The exile moved fast.
Scarlet Miller dodged, but not in time. His claws ripped Scarlet Miller’s shoulder.
Scarlet Miller stumbled, hit the dirt hard.
He came at Scarlet Miller again.
Scarlet Miller rolled, kicked him in the leg, and used the blade to slice his wrist.
He screamed.
Scarlet Miller got to feet, breathing hard.
The exile lunged.
Scarlet Miller sidestepped and drove the blade up under his ribs.
He froze. Then fell.
Scarlet Miller stood over him, chest heaving.
Behind Scarlet Miller, the sky turned orange.
Dawn.
Scarlet Miller looked up.
Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the trees.
Scarlet Miller walked toward him, covered in blood, blade still in hand.
Elias Thorne didn’t speak.
Scarlet Miller dropped the blade at Elias Thorne’s feet.
“Scarlet Miller passed,” Scarlet Miller said.
Elias Thorne nodded once. “Two more to go.”
But she didn’t answer.
She just walked past him, straight toward the castle, not waiting for a single word.
But deep down, She knew something had changed.
She wasn’t just surviving anymore.
She was learning how to fight.
- Writer
