Chapter 10 Messiah’s Shadow

"Keep low and stay tight," I growled, leading the caravan single file through thick underbrush. My heavier body crashed through branches that would’ve snagged the others. The new fur on my shoulders caught leaves, but my senses cut through everything sharp and clear. 

Dak moved up beside me. "You seeing anything ahead, Ren? That nose of yours picking up water yet? We’re down to scraps."

"Stream half a mile east," I answered without slowing. "Deer trail crossed it yesterday. Fresh. And something else... movement on the ridge to our left. Not beasts. Watching us."

Mira tugged my clawed hand. "More bad things?"

"Scouts," I said. "Tall. Furry outlines. Beast Clan markings on their gear. They haven’t attacked. Just observing."

Lysa walked close on my other side, her pouch bumping against her hip. "They’ve been trailing us since morning. You think they know what you are now?"

"Probably." I flexed my massive hands. The claws felt natural, too natural. "Keep moving. Don’t give them a reason to close in."

Karg spat behind us. "Great. Freak show’s attracting his own kind now. We should’ve split days ago."

"Quiet," Dak snapped. "His senses saved us from that sinkhole earlier. You want to complain or survive?"

The group pressed on. My heightened hearing picked up every snapped twig, every nervous breath. I smelled clean water ahead and, farther out, the metallic tang of Sanctuary steel. Trouble.

We reached the stream and refilled what we could. People drank greedily. Mira splashed water on her face, smiling for the first time in hours. "It’s cold. Feels good."

"Drink slow," Lysa told her gently, then turned to me. "You next, Ren. You’re still healing from that legend."

I knelt by the water. My reflection stared back, golden eyes burning, fur patches thicker, face heavier with new bone structure. I looked away fast and drank.

That’s when the arrows came.

Three shafts whistled down from the tree line above the stream bank. One caught an older slave in the shoulder. He screamed and dropped.

"Ambush!" Dak roared, shoving Mira behind cover.

"Sanctuary purists!" I snarled, spotting the white tabards and silver insignia as five fighters dropped from ropes attached to a hovering scout skiff high above. "They’re here for a cull!"

"Kill the tainted!" their leader shouted, voice full of holy fire. "The hybrid abomination first! Burn the infection from the world!"

I charged before the rest could react. New power surged through my legs. I crossed the distance in seconds, slamming into the first purist like a battering ram. My claws ripped through his armor, sending him flying into the water. "Stay behind me!" I bellowed back at the caravan.

Dak fought beside me, spear thrusting. "Two more coming left!"

Lysa dragged the wounded man to safety while firing a small crossbow she’d scavenged. "Ren, watch your flank!"

The purists were trained, coordinated. They spread out, trying to pick off the weaker members. One arrow grazed Mira’s arm. She cried out.

Rage exploded hot in my chest. The Codex flared.

[Predatory dominance engaged. Eliminate threats.]

I moved faster than I should’ve been able to. Grabbed a purist mid-swing and hurled him against a tree. Bones crunched. Another came at me with a blessed blade. I caught the sword in my clawed hand, snapping it, then backhanded him hard enough to send teeth flying.

"Enough!" their leader yelled, dropping his weapon and raising empty hands. "We surrender! The Sanctuaries will pay ransom for…"

The whisper hit me then. That faint Beast God fragment, cold and ancient. [Humans. Always lying. Always betraying. End them.]

My vision tinted red. I grabbed the surrendering man by the throat, lifting him off the ground. My claws pricked his skin. One squeeze and he’d be dead.

"Ren!" Dak shouted. "He’s down! He surrendered!"

I shook, fighting the urge. The man whimpered, eyes bulging with terror. "Please... the Beast Messiah... we were only following orders..."

I roared and threw him aside, not killing him, but the damage was done. The remaining purists broke and ran for their ropes, scrambling back toward the skiff.

As they ascended, one turned and screamed down at us, voice carrying across the stream. "The Beast Messiah rises! The hybrid carries the old gods! Sound the alarm!"

The skiff vanished into the clouds above.

Silence fell over the caravan. Blood stained the water. The wounded man groaned as Lysa worked on him.

Dak grabbed my arm and pulled me aside, away from the others. His face was hard. "They know about you now. Word’s going to spread to every Sanctuary. And I think someone in our group is talking to them. Too many coincidences. They hit us right when we stopped."

I stared at him, chest heaving. "You accusing someone specific?"

"Not yet. But watch your back. Even inside the caravan." He glanced toward the group. "You almost killed that man. I saw it in your eyes. You good?"

"Barely," I admitted. My hands still shook. The alien memory of betrayal lingered.

Lysa approached us, holding out another vial of her medicine. Her expression was soft, full of that same genuine concern. "Here. This will help calm the rage and close the new cuts. You pushed hard again, Ren. Let me take care of you."

She stepped close, hand brushing my furred shoulder as she offered the dose. Her eyes held mine, steady and warm. Too warm.

I took the vial, the bitter liquid sliding down my throat once more. The golden burn eased, but that deeper whisper in my chest stayed.

The caravan watched me warily. Mira gave me a small thumbs up from where she sat, but others whispered. Karg looked ready to bolt again.

Dak’s words echoed in my head. Someone inside was feeding information to the purists.

And Lysa stood right there, waiting for me to finish the medicine. 

The Wilds felt smaller. The threats were closing in from every side.