Blood In The Snow
1417 Words
CHAPTER FOUR: BLOOD IN THE SNOW
ELARA POV
The snow had started to fall again, fine and dry, like salt from a dying sky, dusting Kael’s hair and settling in the fur lining of his cloak. We’d barely spoken since the ambush, the air between us thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. My ribs ached from the shallow cut I’d taken, a reminder of how close I’d come to death. The bond still simmered under my skin, raw and pulsing like it hadn’t settled back into silence. It was always there now—a presence. Not a person. Not a feeling. Just… pressure.
Kael moved ahead, steps crisp and silent, as if he knew the land beneath his boots. He didn’t limp, despite the gash down his side. He hadn’t let me help him dress it either, stubborn as ever. “Stubborn,” I muttered under my breath, the word barely escaping my lips.
He didn’t turn, but I saw the flick of his ear. He’d heard me.
The trees grew denser here, their trunks curving slightly, bending toward each other like old friends whispering secrets. There was something sacred about them—old, watching. I felt a shiver run down my spine, a sense of being observed by something ancient and powerful.
“We shouldn’t be in this part of the forest,” Kael said finally, his voice low and serious.
I caught up to him, curiosity piqued. “Why not?”
He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “This territory doesn’t belong to either of our clans. The trees mark it.”
I frowned, glancing around at the towering sentinels. “Then whose does it belong to?”
“Some say no one. Some say the firstborn of the moon.”
I rolled my eyes, unable to suppress the sarcasm. “Fantastic. Cursed and trespassing.”
Kael gave a short huff of amusement, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He stopped suddenly and held out a hand. I froze beside him, instinctively reaching for my dagger.
The snow ahead had been disturbed. A streak of red dragged across the white, thick and fresh, trailing off between the trees in a winding smear. It hadn’t crusted yet. Something had died—or was dying—very recently.
Kael dropped to one knee and touched it with two fingers, bringing them to his nose, nostrils flaring. “Wolf,” he said, his voice low and tense. “But not Blackfang.”
“Ravenmoon?” I ventured, my heart racing.
He shook his head, his brow furrowing. “No. Different scent. Fermented. Wrong.”
The hairs rose on the back of my neck. “Rogue?”
“No.” His voice was lower now, almost a growl. “Something else.”
I stared at the trail, dread pooling in my stomach. The blood was too thick for a clean kill, too erratic for a wounded predator. Whatever had bled here had suffered.
A low growl rolled from Kael’s throat before I could ask more. Then he was moving fast, quiet, crouched low. I followed, slower, blade in hand, the bond between us buzzing like a wire ready to snap.
The trail led to a clearing, and what we saw stopped both of us cold.
A body—half-shifted, half-human—lay sprawled in the snow, twitching faintly. The creature’s eyes were wolf-shaped but gleaming with sickly silver. Its limbs were wrong—elongated, the joints cracked backwards like a puppet unstrung. Its mouth was open in a silent scream, frozen mid-transformation.
“Moon rot,” Kael whispered, horror creeping into his voice.
“What?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.
He didn’t answer right away. He moved closer, slowly, circling the body like a predator sizing up its prey. “It’s a death curse. Ancient. Forbidden.”
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “It doesn’t look dead.”
Kael stopped a few feet away and crouched, his expression a mix of fascination and dread. The creature’s chest still rose and fell, barely. Its fingers twitched, as if trying to grasp at something just out of reach.
Then it opened its mouth.
I took a step back, instinctively recoiling.
But it didn’t speak.
It sang.
The sound was fractured, distorted—like glass cracking under pressure, each note out of tune with the world around us. It wasn’t a song. It was a warning.
Kael’s eyes widened, and he took a step back. “Elara—run.”
Before I could move, the creature convulsed.
A ring of energy blasted outward from its body—cold, bright, unnatural. It hit Kael first. He was flung backwards into a tree, hitting the trunk with a sickening c***k. I barely managed to brace myself before it slammed into me, knocking the air from my lungs.
I hit the ground hard, the world spinning around me. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The trees groaned, their branches swaying as if in response to the creature’s death throes.
The mark on my wrist ignited—burning, screaming, reacting to the pulse of whatever magic had been unleashed. Pain shot through me, a reminder of the bond that tied me to Kael, and I struggled to push myself upright.
Kael was already dragging himself upright, blood trailing from his mouth, his expression a mix of fury and fear. “What the hell was that?” I gasped, my voice hoarse.
He wiped his mouth, his eyes scanning the clearing. “Someone left it here. That thing. As a message.”
I stared at the twitching body, horror settling in my gut. “A cursed wolf left dying in sacred woods to sing a warning?”
“Yes.”
I swallowed, the weight of it starting to settle. “Then who was the message for?”
Kael looked at me, his gaze piercing. Not past me. Not around me. At me.
“You.”
The word hung in the air, heavy and foreboding.
We moved again, faster this time, urgency propelling us forward. I said nothing. He said less. But the silence between us had changed. Not softer. Sharper. Tighter. The bond pulsed with every step, reacting to something in the clearing—something the curse recognised. We didn’t need to say it aloud. We were no longer running from just our clans. We were part of something bigger. Older. Worse.
Kael stopped just before dusk, at the edge of a frozen river. His shoulders were stiff, eyes scanned the horizon. “We make camp here,” he said, his voice firm.
“Why?” I asked, glancing around. “We can go farther.”
“No. We need shelter. That thing—whatever cast that curse—it’s not done yet.”
I hesitated, the weight of his words settling over me like a shroud. Then I added, “You think it’ll come for us?”
He didn’t answer.
Which meant yes.
Later, after the fire was built and our cloaks drawn tight against the cold, I asked what I shouldn’t have. “Do you think this bond was meant for us?”
Kael didn’t look at me, his gaze fixed on the flames. “No.”
“Then why us?”
He was quiet for a long time, the crackling fire the only sound between us. Then he finally said, “Because we were easy to destroy.”
His eyes met mine across the fire, and for the first time, I saw it. Not arrogance. Not hatred. But fear. And not of me. Of whatever had cursed us.
The fire flickered between us, casting shadows that danced like spectres. I felt the weight of his words settle in my chest, a heavy truth that threatened to crush me. We were pawns in a game we didn’t understand, caught in a web spun by forces far beyond our control.
As the night deepened, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched. The trees loomed around us, ancient and silent, their secrets hidden in the darkness. I wrapped my arms around my knees, trying to find warmth in the chill that seeped into my bones.
Kael’s gaze remained fixed on the horizon, his expression unreadable. I wanted to reach out to bridge the distance between us, but the bond pulsed with a warning, reminding me of the danger that lay in our connection.
We were bound by a curse, and the darkness was closing in.
- Writer
