Chapter 30
Afaint vibration hummed through the tent. It felt subtle, as if it were a warning meant to rouse her from sleep. With the wolf pack gone, the camp felt hollow, like an abandoned village on the brink of being claimed by the dark.
Evelyne felt it again, stronger this time, and bolted upright, the last traces of sleep vanishing in an instant. Drawn by the vibration, she shifted her gaze to her bag, where a soft light pulsed from within.
The map.
Her hands trembled as she tore open the bag and yanked out the parchment. Her breath caught at the sight of inky blackness bleeding across the camp’s outline.
Something was here.
A sudden chill rushed through the tent, extinguishing the lantern beside her. In the moonlight spilling through the flap, Evelyne saw her breath.
She bolted.
Tugging on her boots, she scrambled outside, her breath coming in quick, panicked gasps. The full moon bathed the camp in silver light, but it wasn’t enough to see through the shifting black mist curling around the tents. It writhed with a life of its own, moving in ways that defied nature.
“Alaric!”
Evelyne’s shout was swallowed by the eerie silence.
“Alaric!”
Which tent was his? Shit, she didn’t know—
She froze at what she saw near the edge of the trees.
Two tall, preternatural figures shifted from shadow to solid form, and between them, pinned against a tree, was Alaric.
The first creature, built like a man, had its clawed fingers wrapped around Alaric’s throat.
Its gray skin was stretched too tightly over its bones, black veins pulsing beneath the surface like ink spreading through paper.
Its mouth, an unholy grin of jagged, needle-sharp teeth, was smeared with blood. Alaric’s blood.
The second creature hovered beside it, clutching Alaric’s arm in a deathly grip. Its lips pressed against his skin, siphoning the blood from his veins. Alaric’s head hung forward, lifelessly still.
No! No, no, no—
Before Evelyne could cry out, a bone-rattling snarl rolled through the forest, halting the creatures mid-feed.
A massive blur of white shot past her, slamming into the demon gripping Alaric’s throat.
The force sent it crashing against a tree with a sickening crack.
The white wolf positioned himself between her and the creatures, a barrier of muscle and power.
She could only stare at the rise and fall of his shoulders, each breath a quiet vow to protect.
Kaldrek.
Every muscle in his body was wound tight, like a bowstring ready to snap. A feral gleam lit his dark eyes as they locked onto the creatures, and Evelyne felt a cold ripple of fear. He sank into a low crouch and bared his fangs, a beast on the brink of bloodshed.
Yet despite the brutal image, something eased within her. He was back.
Another figure exploded from the trees—a gray-and-white wolf landing at Kaldrek’s side. Evelyne recognized him instantly. Holden. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, ready to tear their enemies apart.
But where was the rest of the pack?
Alaric lay slumped against the tree, barely conscious, his breath shallow. He was alive, but one of the creatures still clung to him. The other stood still, like they were both biding their time. Or planning their next move.
A sick churn gripped Evelyne’s stomach as their soulless eyes tracked the space between the wolves.
No, not the wolves. Her.
Realization struck like ice in her veins. She was the prey. And when twin smiles stretched across their merciless faces, she knew they could see the terror blooming behind her eyes.
Before Kaldrek or Holden could lunge, they shifted into streaks of darkness, slipping past the wolves like a phantom wind.
Evelyne watched as Alaric’s body crumpled to the ground like a broken puppet, but before she could scream, cold, strong hands seized her arms, wrenching her backward.
She thrashed, kicking wildly, but their grips remained locked.
She screamed until her throat burned, but they didn’t stop moving. They dragged her deeper into the forest, their reeking scent a choking mix of decay and metal.
They moved so fast that the world blurred. Evelyne doubted even Kaldrek or Holden could match their speed. Suddenly, a clawed hand jerked her head sideways, baring her throat. A gust of rancid breath swept over her skin, and she instantly knew. It was going to feed.
A surge of white slammed into the creature pinning her, the impact so fierce it knocked her backward into the dirt. Evelyne’s vision spun as she caught sight of Holden lunging at the second figure, his jaws locking around its gray-skinned throat. But it didn’t go down—it was too strong.
With inhuman speed, it ripped Holden off, its clawed hand grasping his scruff and hurling him across the clearing. Holden crashed against a tree, the clash so violent it shook the ground. A quick, painful whimper escaped him before his body fell.
Horror clawed at the edges of Evelyne’s mind, but she shoved it aside. She needed to move.
Panting, she crawled, dirt and twigs scraping against her palms. When she reached Alaric, she cradled him close, relief crashing through her as she felt the faint rise and fall of his chest. He was alive.
And still, the fight hadn’t stopped.
The creatures were too fast, moving in flickers of shadow, ducking, dodging, striking.
Kaldrek lunged, his white fur streaked with blood that wasn’t his own, his jaws snapping just inches from his opponent’s throat.
He was vicious and terrifying and undoubtedly the strongest in the pack, but she wasn’t sure he could bring the creature down alone.
They were outmatched. But as hope began to slip away, the heavy thud of approaching steps and rustling leaves cut through the night. Suddenly, they were no longer alone.
The trees trembled as the entire Ironwolf pack returned.
Dozens of fierce wolves burst into the clearing, their growls rumbling like an oncoming storm, their eyes blazing red with fury.
Instantly, the creatures vanished. Their forms morphed from flesh to shadow before dissolving into the darkness.
The only trace of their presence was the blood staining the ground.
Evelyne’s attention was fixed on Alaric. He was too still, and his normally tanned skin was unnervingly pale. Blood continued to seep from the bites on his forearm and neck. With frantic hands, she ripped the hem of her shirt, tearing the fabric into strips.
“Damn it—” She gritted her teeth as she pressed the fabric against the wounds. But it wasn’t enough.
It wasn’t until she caught movement from the corner of her eye that she realized the others were shifting back. Bodies, some naked, some cloaked in robes, emerged from the carnage. Holden was down but alive, and Heidara was already kneeling beside him, draping a cloth over his lower half.
When their eyes met, she rushed toward Evelyne without hesitation. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, but please help him.” Her chest ached as she looked down at Alaric’s still body. “Please.”
Heidara’s warm hand landed on Evelyne’s shoulder. “Lorena is coming. She’s our best healer.”
“Thank you, Heidara.”
Lowering her brow to Alaric’s, Evelyne let the tears fall.
***
Within minutes, Alaric was wrapped in white bandages and healing herbs, but Evelyne remained at his side in the tent.
Please wake up. Please. Please.
She knew she should try to sleep—by dawn, they’d be on their own. On foot, wounded, and without the protection of the pack. But how could she sleep after what she had just witnessed? Alaric had been bitten, fed on, nearly drained of blood.
A sharp gust of air whipped through the tent as Kaldrek pushed inside. He was still bare from the waist up, his chest smeared with dirt and dried blood. His jaw was clenched so tight it looked like it might snap, and his dark brown eyes flicked between her and Alaric.
“Did they hurt you?” Kaldrek’s voice was stern, clipped, like he barely had the patience to ask.
“No, I’ll be okay. But—” Evelyne’s fingers curled into the blankets as she stared at Alaric’s pale body. “What were those… things? They were horrible.”
“We call them the Noskari. They are the spawn of her bloodcraft, mindless thralls tethered to her darkness.”
Her thralls? A chill ran through Evelyne. “Vaelora’s?”
He nodded. “They’re stronger and faster than we are. We were lucky the others showed up when they did.”
As much as she feared admitting it, he was right. Kaldrek had held his ground, but his strength had been waning. If the pack hadn’t arrived, she’d be dead.
“So they can invade the mind, devour the body, and kill without remorse—if that’s what they choose?” she asked, more to hear it spoken aloud than to be told.
Kaldrek hesitated. “Yes. And there’s a very high chance your friend here is now one of them.”
Evelyne shot to her feet. “No, he is not.”
Kaldrek’s expression darkened. “You don’t know that.”
“And neither do you. They were only feeding on him. I saw it. Nothing passed between them. No shadow, no mental intrusion.”
Kaldrek laughed. “You have no idea what the Noskari are capable of. It happens faster than a breath. No one has ever seen the magic spread. It’s instant.
And since they didn’t get to drain him completely, who’s to say one of them didn’t slip inside your friend before vanishing?
” He stepped closer. “We need to move him. Now.”
“Don’t you even think about killing him, Kaldrek,” Evelyne snapped.
“He is a potential threat to my pack. I’ll do what is necessary.”
“You will not touch him.” Her hands trembled as she clenched them into fists.
Kaldrek took a slow step forward, and whispered low, “We’ll see.” And then he walked out.
She was done with his arrogance. Frustration boiling over, Evelyne tore through the tent flap and into the biting night air, unwilling to let him walk away unchallenged. “You haven’t even given him a chance to wake up yet, you coward!”