Chapter 5 Shadows Rising
The northern winds bit at Kaelan’s face as he rode along the ridge, the late autumn snow crunching faintly under his hooves. The forests below stretched in frozen silence, the once-familiar trails now empty, eerily still. His heart thrummed with unease a premonition that had been gnawing at him since the Ashborne Pack fell. Something about their disappearance didn’t sit right, and no matter how much he tried to dismiss it as coincidence, his instincts screamed otherwise.
Beside him, Rhylen, his Beta, rode in quiet tension. Unlike Kaelan, Rhylen’s expression was taut, his hands clenching the reins as though the snow and trees themselves were a threat.
“Tracks don’t match anything we know. No pack moves like that. Not even the rogue wolves near the east ridge.”
Kaelan’s dark eyes narrowed. He thought of Ashborne’s heir, an old friend and mentor, and the fierce warriors who had trained with him. Their deaths if they were indeed dead felt deliberate, strategic, almost… personal. And he knew instinctively that whoever or whatever had done this was still out there. Watching. Waiting.
“They were close to something,” Kaelan murmured, more to himself than to Rhylen. “They were guarding something, or… someone. And whoever came for them knew exactly what they were looking for.” It's been nine years but it felt like yesterday.
Rhylen frowned. “Do you think it could be magic?”
Kaelan laughed bitterly, but it was short, humorless. “Magic? I don’t know, Rhylen. But I do know enough to trust my gut. This wasn’t a random attack. And whoever did it is still moving, still hunting.”
They rode in silence for a while, the only sound the whisper of wind through the pines. Then Rhylen spoke again, his voice almost a growl. “We need eyes on the ground. Scouts won’t be enough. We need someone who knows the terrain… someone who can move unseen.”
Kaelan’s mind turned immediately to the northern borders, to the subtle rumors of strange movements near the ridges, and to the faintest trace of smoke seen from the east. He clenched his fists, jaw tight. “Then we go ourselves. But carefully. We can’t risk running into whoever did this blindly. If Ashborne fell… we can’t afford to follow the same path.”
As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the snow, a figure emerged ahead tall, cloaked, moving silently over the ridge. Kaelan tensed. It wasn’t unusual to see scouts at this hour, but something about this one… the way they moved, almost gliding, precise, deliberate… set his instincts screaming.
“Stop,” Kaelan whispered, sliding off his mount and crouching low behind a boulder. He signaled Rhylen to do the same. “Eyes on them. Observe before we act.”
The figure paused, turning slightly, and Kaelan caught the glint of something metallic in the fading light a symbol etched onto their cloak. His blood ran cold.
“That… that symbol,” he muttered under his breath, heart hammering. “It can’t be…”
Rhylen’s eyes followed his gaze. “You’re sure?”
Kaelan nodded slowly, every instinct on fire. “I’ve seen that sigil before… at Ashborne. Whoever wears it… they were involved. And if they’re here, it means this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”
The figure moved again, closer to a cluster of trees near the edge of a frozen creek. Kaelan’s mind raced, weighing options, calculating distances, predicting the stranger’s path. Then, without warning, the figure vanished simply disappeared into the woods, as if the snow itself had swallowed them.
Kaelan froze, every sense straining. That was no ordinary scout. That was no ordinary wolf. And then the faintest sound reached him: a whisper, carried on the wind, chilling him to the bone.
“She is closer than you think…”
The words weren’t spoken aloud, yet Kaelan heard them clearly in his mind. He staggered back, heart pounding, and Rhylen gripped his arm.
“What… what was that?” Rhylen asked, voice tight with fear.
Kaelan shook his head slowly, dread settling deep in his chest. “I don’t know. But one thing is certain… someone knows. Someone knows she survived.”
And in that moment, far across the forest, somewhere hidden, a pair of eyes watched. Cold. Calculating. Patient. Waiting for Kaelan to make his next move.
Kaelan stood alone on the northern balcony, the icy wind biting at his face, though he barely felt it. His eyes were fixed on the darkened valley below, where the Evermoon pack had once thrived. Now it was gone. Ruins smoldered faintly in the distance, smoke curling into the star-strewn sky like a dark warning.
Rhylen, his ever-faithful beta, approached silently, boots crunching over the frost-hardened stone. “Kaelan,” he said softly, his voice low, “the Evermoon pack… they’re gone. Every settlement, every warrior… just… vanished. Survivors say it happened overnight.”
Kaelan didn’t move immediately. The report echoed in his mind, stirring memories of Ashborne, the northern pack whose fall had left scars on every Alpha’s heart. Nine years ago, it had been a mystery. Now, Evermoon their demise eerily reminiscent threatened to reopen wounds thought long buried.
“They didn’t leave a single trace?” Kaelan asked finally, his voice calm but laced with steel.
Rhylen shook his head. “Nothing. No battle cries, no defensive positions. The survivors speak only of… shadows. They said figures moved faster than wolves, strikes precise and merciless. It wasn’t a war it was a slaughter.”
Kaelan’s hands tightened on the railing. He’d trained for conflict, he’d faced enemy packs and rival Alphas, but this… this felt different. “Someone wants to send a message,” he muttered. “But to whom? And why now?”
Rhylen hesitated, glancing down at the valley. “It’s almost as if they’re testing the northern packs… measuring reactions, seeing who’s ready.”
Kaelan’s eyes narrowed. “Then we need to know everything. Notify every northern Alpha. Scouts leave at first light. Discreet. Fast. And gather intelligence on any survivors. Find out what they saw. Everything.”
Meanwhile, far to the south, Elara trained under Caius, unaware that the tremors of destruction were spreading silently across the north. Her wolf stirred restlessly beneath her skin, sensing disturbances too subtle for human perception. Caius, vigilant as ever, called his senior warriors together.
“There are reports of a northern pack destroyed overnight,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “We do not engage. We do not leave southern borders unless ordered. But we remain vigilant. This is not our war yet we cannot ignore it. Threats are rising beyond what we can see.”
The southern warriors shifted uneasily, the tension in the air thick. Elara felt it too, a strange prickle along her spine, the hair at the nape of her neck rising. Though she didn’t understand why, her wolf growled softly, a low rumble warning of something unseen but very near.
