Chapter 7: The Hunter's Trail
870 Words
The moon hung high above the mountains as Kael Blackfang rode through the northern wilderness.
His black wolf ran beside him.
Silent.
Patient.
Deadly.
Most hunters relied on reports and rumors.
Kael relied on instinct.
And his instincts had never failed him.
He stopped at the site of the destroyed convoy.
The battlefield had already been abandoned.
Broken wagons littered the road.
Dark blood stained the earth.
The scent of death still lingered in the air.
Kael dismounted and crouched beside a set of footprints.
A faint smile touched his lips.
Female.
Lightweight.
Fast.
Disciplined.
Not the movements of an ordinary warrior.
"Thea Dragona..."
He traced the print with his fingers.
"You've become difficult to find."
His wolf growled softly.
The hunt had finally become interesting.
Meanwhile, inside the hidden resistance camp...
The atmosphere was celebratory.
The successful attack on Geneva's convoy had boosted morale throughout the camp.
Warriors laughed around campfires.
Children played freely.
For a brief moment, hope seemed stronger than fear.
But Verra couldn't enjoy the celebration.
She stood alone near the edge of the camp, staring into the darkness.
Something felt wrong.
Her wolf had been restless all day.
As if danger was approaching.
Footsteps sounded behind her.
Elder Rowan appeared carrying two cups of herbal tea.
"You've been avoiding everyone."
Verra accepted the cup.
"I'm thinking."
"About Geneva?"
She shook her head.
"Daven."
The old warrior wasn't surprised.
"I wondered how long it would take before you admitted it."
Verra sighed.
"Seeing him again changed everything."
"You still care about him."
A sad smile appeared on her face.
"Some feelings never disappear."
The memory of the Narra Tree returned.
The promise they made as children.
The day everything changed.
The day she never arrived.
If only she could tell him the truth.
If only she could explain.
But not yet.
The rebellion came first.
Her people came first.
Her throne came first.
No matter how much it hurt.
Back in Storm Wind territory...
Daven sat alone inside his office.
The silver dragon pendant rested on his desk.
For the hundredth time, he examined it.
Something about it bothered him.
Something familiar.
A knock sounded on the door.
"Enter."
Marcus walked inside.
"You've been staring at that thing for three hours."
Daven ignored him.
Marcus sat across from him.
"Any theories?"
Daven leaned back.
"The woman wasn't one of Geneva's soldiers."
"We already know that."
"She was their target."
Marcus nodded.
"Which means she has enemies powerful enough to send assassins after her."
Daven's eyes darkened.
"And powerful enough to hide for years."
The room fell silent.
Suddenly, another memory surfaced.
A little girl laughing beneath a Narra Tree.
Silver eyes shining in the sunlight.
A dragon-shaped pendant hanging around her neck.
Daven froze.
His heartbeat accelerated.
No.
It couldn't be.
The memory was over ten years old.
Yet the pendant looked almost identical.
Marcus noticed the change immediately.
"What happened?"
Daven slowly picked up the pendant.
His voice barely above a whisper.
"I've seen this before."
Far away, inside the Dragon Fire Palace...
Geneva stood before a large map.
Red markers covered the northern territories.
Each one represented resistance activity.
Each one represented failure.
Her patience was running out.
A guard suddenly entered.
"My Alpha."
"What is it?"
"We received a message from Kael."
Geneva turned immediately.
The guard handed her a sealed letter.
She opened it.
After reading the contents, a cruel smile spread across her face.
"What does it say?" Sylvia asked nervously.
Geneva's eyes gleamed.
"Kael found her trail."
Sylvia's face paled.
"Thea?"
"Yes."
The older woman laughed softly.
"After ten years..."
Her fingers tightened around the letter.
"My dear niece is finally running out of places to hide."
Three days later...
Verra led a small team through the forest.
Their mission was simple.
Deliver supplies to another resistance outpost.
Nothing dangerous.
Nothing complicated.
At least that was the plan.
Suddenly, her wolf growled.
Danger.
Verra instantly raised her hand.
The group stopped.
Every warrior reached for their weapons.
"What is it?" one of them whispered.
Verra scanned the trees.
Silence.
Too much silence.
No birds.
No insects.
Nothing.
Then she saw it.
A knife.
Embedded in a tree.
Freshly thrown.
Attached to it was a piece of black cloth.
Verra's eyes widened.
Her blood ran cold.
She recognized the symbol stitched into the fabric.
A black wolf.
The personal mark of Kael Blackfang.
The Shadow Wolf.
The deadliest assassin in Geneva's service.
One of the resistance warriors cursed.
"How did he find us?"
No one answered.
Because everyone knew the truth.
If Kael had found their trail...
The hunt had already begun.
Then a deep voice echoed through the forest.
Calm.
Cold.
Dangerously close.
"You've been difficult to find, Princess."
The resistance warriors immediately formed a defensive circle around Verra.
Every sword was drawn.
Every warrior prepared for battle.
But Verra knew something they didn't.
If Kael was here...
He hadn't come alone.
Dozens of hidden eyes watched from the darkness.
Waiting.
Watching.
Ready to strike.
Kael stepped from the shadows.
His silver eyes locked onto Verra.
A smile slowly appeared on his scarred face.
Not a friendly smile.
The smile of a predator finally standing before his prey.
"Found you."
- Writer
