Chapter 34
Alaric had never seen Kaldrek in such disarray.
He didn’t fully understand what a mating bond could do to a wolf, but it clearly caused serious distress if the mate was in trouble.
Kaldrek’s gaze was wild, pupils blown so wide his eyes could be black.
Alaric was nervous too; he needed to find his friend.
She could be dead right now, and it would absolutely destroy him, but he had to focus.
He had to find the underground entrance.
It was their only way in, and he could feel he was close now.
The opening could not be far from the trading post. More and more, he felt certain it had been placed there on purpose, near enough for the Noskari to strike quickly or drag back whatever they needed to keep their tunnels fed.
Most likely, humans.
The thought turned his stomach.
He did not understand why the land had begun to answer him, only that the connection was growing stronger.
The wind seemed to speak. Water softened and stirred around him.
The earth thrummed beneath his feet and sent something through him that felt less like strength than knowing.
Not power in the usual sense, but instinct sharpened into certainty, a sense of what was right, what was wrong, where he was needed, and where he had to lead.
He could not explain it to anyone, but he was going to use it to his advantage to help his friends.
Heidara refused to return to the pack, so Kaldrek left his strongest wolves behind to guard the others while the three of them continued the search.
Cillian had begged to come too, eager to help find his sister and Holden, but he knew he was not ready for battle.
He was not yet trained, and Alaric had little doubt Evelyne would kill him if he allowed her younger brother anywhere near the danger.
So Cillian remained behind, helping Lorena care for the wounded.
“Anything?” Heidara asked as she watched him search the ground.
Alaric shook his head and moved toward a cluster of great trees, their trunks thick and their roots knotted above the soil like the backs of sleeping beasts.
At first glance they seemed no different from the rest of the woodland, but as he drew nearer, the largest among them began to feel wrong.
It was immense, its trunk so broad that three wolves might struggle to circle it, yet its canopy was far too thin.
Its leaves hung dull and lifeless beside the vivid color of the surrounding trees.
Moss clung unevenly to the bark, and dark sap had dried in narrow streaks along one side, nearly black.
No birds perched in its branches. No insects stirred near its roots.
Even the earth beneath it carried a faint metallic tang beneath the loam.
Alaric slowed and knelt, pressing his palm flat against the soil at the base of the tree. He closed his eyes. For a moment, there was only stillness. Then his brow furrowed.
“It’s hollow beneath,” he murmured.
Kaldrek stepped forward, his face set. “Hollow how?”
Alaric didn’t answer immediately. He shifted slightly, moving aside a dense tangle of brush and fallen limbs that had gathered unnaturally at the tree’s base.
The debris had not simply fallen there—it had been placed, woven together with care.
As he pulled it aside, a narrow seam revealed itself between two massive roots plunging deep into the earth.
The dirt there was darker and disturbed.
He brushed away more dirt, exposing thick roots that disappeared into a vertical slit in the land.
Twined around them were hardened strands of darkened bloodroot, braided tightly along the wood like veins frozen in place.
The air that drifted up from the seam was cold, carrying the unmistakable scent of iron.
“They anchored it here,” Alaric murmured. “Its roots are tainted. The corruption runs through it and into the ground below.”
Kaldrek stared at the narrow opening between the roots.
“Open it,” he commanded.
***
Shred. Rip. Tear.
The sounds tore from her as much as from them.
Evelyne lunged and pivoted, circling the three Noskari in tight arcs of movement, claws carving, jaws snapping. She knew it was reckless. A death wish. But if she could not overpower them, she would exhaust them. Distract them. Force them to divide their focus.
They had toyed with her and now she would return the favor.
Their posture altered the instant she transformed. It was subtle, but real. Those black, depthless eyes tightened as though measuring her anew, and for one fleeting second she caught it.
Concern.
She slammed her body into the back of one, driving it forward into the second. Gray skin collided with gray skin in a violent tangle. She darted away before their claws could catch her. Another strike. Another precious second bought.
The third Noskari began watching her carefully now, studying the rhythm of her attacks.
She felt the change in its strategy and immediately broke her pattern.
Instead of circling left again, she turned sharply to the right and lashed out with her paw, claws slicing through the back of its leg.
It faltered, dropping briefly to one knee.
“Filthy bitch,” it snarled.
They surged toward her together.
She bolted.
The tunnel swallowed her as she sprinted, muscles burning, lungs searing. She had never run so fast in her life. Noskari were faster—they always had been—but something was different now. Their movements were not as fluid.
They were unsettled.
She kicked dirt violently behind her, scattering debris to cloud their vision. The tunnels twisted unpredictably, and panic surged when she realized she no longer recognized the path.
A wrong turn.
She skidded into another chamber and froze for half a breath.
More prisoners were chained along the walls. Men. Women. Children. Though none with familiar faces. At the sight of a massive wolf barreling into their space, they recoiled, shrieking in terror.
“Please,” one man gasped, chains rattling. “Don’t leave us.”
There was recognition in his voice, as though he knew she was a shifter and not some wild thing of the tunnels. She would not leave the prisoners behind. She knew that with absolute certainty. She would keep the Noskari distracted for as long as she could.
They were nearly on top of her now, and she could not let herself be trapped again. She turned, catching the faint brush of cool air against her fur.
An exit.
Evelyne sprinted toward it and burst from the narrow tunnel mouth directly into them.
She collided with the first Noskari head-on, jaws sinking into gray flesh.
She tore, tasting bitter blood as it screeched in fury.
Another clawed at her flank. A third slammed into her side, driving her to the ground.
Pain exploded through her leg as sharp claws punctured deep into muscle.
A broken, involuntary whimper escaped from her throat.
No.
She was so close.
So close.
Chains began clanking wildly from the chamber behind her. The prisoners were pulling, striking iron against roots, creating chaos. The noise echoed through the tunnels like a riot.
She snarled and thrashed, biting blindly, refusing to go still. If she kept them occupied—if she forced them to focus on her—maybe the others could break free.
All three Noskari were on her now, but she did not stop fighting.
A familiar growl cut through the tunnel. And another answered it.
Hope flared violently in her chest.
Kaldrek? She reached desperately through the bond, even as blood filled her mouth.
Silence. The bond still felt thin, but not gone.
Then they came. A surge of monstrous wolves flooded the chamber, barreling past her in a wave of fur and anger. The first among them had a coat she would recognize anywhere—Holden. He barreled into the Noskari with a savagery that shook the walls.
And the fight truly began.