The screaming on the ridge stopped, cut short by a wet crunch—bone snapping under pressure.
At the ravine entrance, Kael's ten recruits froze. Knuckles bleached white against spear shafts. Eyes darted toward the gloom. They had heard Bronn, and the silence that followed spoke louder.
"Steady." Kael's voice was low and hard. It cut the panic like a cold draft.
He walked down the rocky path, weapon drawn, face slack. Shoulders loose. Steps heavy.
"Bronn's squad is gone," Kael stated. "Wolves. Big pack. And they're still hungry."
"We... we need to run!" Jorin stammered, boots scraping backward on the stone.
"You can't outrun a wolf in deep snow, Jorin," Kael said. "Turn your back, and you are meat. We stand. We kill them."
He pointed his blade toward the narrow mouth of the ravine.
"Shield wall!" Kael barked. "Shields front! Spears second rank! Anchor your feet against the rocks. Make the bastards come to us!"
The recruits wavered. Kael slammed his boot into the gravel. The sound snapped heads forward. They scrambled, locking wooden rims across the gap.
Just in time.
Shadows detached from the fog on the ridge.
One by one, the wolves skidded down the slope. Six of them. Muzzles painted in fresh, wet crimson. Scraps of Bronn's tunic dangled from the jaws of the lead beast—a massive creature with a missing ear.
The Alpha.
It stood silent. Yellow eyes fixed on the shield wall. Then its mouth opened, releasing a sound that set teeth on edge—a high-pitched shriek, metallic, like steel grinding against glass.
The pack charged.
"Brace!" Kael shouted from behind the line.
The impact shuddered through the ground. The corrupted wolves slammed into the timber with the force of battering rams.
"Hold! Hold the line!"
Recruits screamed as claws raked gouges into the wood. A shield splintered, and a wolf's snout snapped through, teeth gnashing inches from Jorin's face.
"Spears!" Kael ordered. "Thrust!"
Steel tips shot from the second rank. Two wolves yelped, stumbling back, bleeding black ichor into the snow. The Alpha ignored the steel. It coiled its muscles and vaulted the shield wall, landing with crushing weight in the center of the formation.
The ranks broke. Miller, a slow-footed boy from the valleys, screamed as the Alpha tackled him.
"Help m—!"
The beast's jaws clamped onto his throat, cutting the plea in a spray of bright arterial blood. Miller thrashed, eyes locking onto his comrades. No one moved.
Now.
Kael stepped in while it tore at the kill. The panic around him faded into focus.
His short sword flashed low.
The blade severed the tendon on the Alpha's rear left leg. The beast howled, the limb buckling under its bulk.
It spun, snapping at Kael with jaws capable of crushing a helm.
Kael pivoted on his lead foot. The jaws snapped shut on nothing. The wolf's weight carried it past him.
He drove the blade upward, sliding it under the ribs.
The metal sank to the hilt. Hot, oily gore sprayed over Kael's hand.
[ TARGET ELIMINATED: CORRUPTED WOLF (ALPHA) ]
Kael ripped the blade free. The Alpha convulsed once, then slumped into the snow.
"The Alpha is down!" Kael roared, holding the dripping sword high. "Push them back!"
At the sight of the carcass, the recruits rallied. They closed the gap around Miller's body, thrusting spears with desperate fury.
The pack broke. Two more were skewered on the spear tips. The rest scrambled back into the mist.
Silence returned to the ravine, thick and frigid, broken only by the ragged breathing of the men.
"Secure the perimeter!" Kael ordered.
He walked to Miller. The boy's throat was a ruin. Kael knelt and slid the staring eyes shut.
"He held the line," Kael said, pitching his voice to carry. "Wrap him in his cloak. We take him with us."
He turned to the slain Alpha, placing a palm firmly against its chest.
[ AETHER POINTS + 3 ]
Three points.
He moved quickly to the other two carcasses.
[ AETHER POINT +1 ] [ AETHER POINT +1 ]
Kael stood. Six points. Investment recovered.
As the faint harvesting glow faded, Kael noticed the Alpha's head. The missing ear had been torn back during the collision, exposing the cartilage.
There, stark against the pale inner skin, was a brand.
Not a tattoo. A burn.
A geometric symbol. A circle with three intersecting lines.
Kael's eyes narrowed. He ran a thumb over the scar. The same mark as the Skin in Silas's strongbox. The Skin Leo took.
Marked. Bred.
"Sir!" Jorin called out, voice shaking. "What about Bronn's squad?"
Kael glanced up at the ridge. The fog was thinning.
"We recover the bodies," Kael said. "Make a litter with spears and cloaks. Miller goes on the first one. Then we get Bronn's men. We tell Master Garric that Bronn disobeyed orders and led his men into a nest. We are the survivors."
He scanned his squad. Their eyes were wide, fixated on him. Fear. Awe. He had saved them, but he hadn't saved Miller.
Kael sheathed his sword.
The weighted pouch of coins bumped against his flank. Compared to the power humming in his veins, the gold felt like dead weight.
He had a squad now. He had points. And he had a clue.
"Move out," Kael commanded. "We're going home."