Chapter 5 : THE SCOUTS
Two days of preparation had transformed the Silver Ridge perimeter into a death trap.
I crouched in an elevated position overlooking the main approach, checking the tension on the last silver wire. The moonlight caught the metal—thin, almost invisible, strung at throat height across a narrow passage between boulders. Anything running through at speed would catch it across the windpipe.
[TRAP NETWORK: 87% COMPLETE] [COVERAGE: NORTHERN AND EASTERN APPROACHES] [WESTERN AND SOUTHERN: NATURAL BARRIERS SUFFICIENT]
The howling started at 9:47 PM.
Three voices. Coordinated. Coming from the northeast, maybe two miles out. Not a hunt call—this was announcement. Intimidation. We're coming. Be afraid.
[INCOMING HOSTILES DETECTED] [COUNT: 3] [SPECIES: SKINWALKER] [CLASSIFICATION: SUBORDINATE-CLASS] [THREAT LEVEL: MODERATE AS GROUP]
I shifted into mountain lion form—the one I'd spent months perfecting. Tawny fur, compact muscle, claws that could shred steel cable. The transformation rippled through me like water, bones reshaping, senses sharpening until the world became a tapestry of scent and sound.
The three subordinates appeared twenty minutes later. Wolf forms, all of them. Young, aggressive, moving with the sloppy confidence of predators who'd never faced real opposition. They weren't scouts.
They were enforcers.
Cormac had sent them to kill the challenger and drag back the pieces. A warning to anyone else who might get ideas about his territory.
Bad decision.
They entered the perimeter in a loose triangle formation—pack tactics, but poorly executed. The lead wolf was biggest, probably the beta of Cormac's little group. He sniffed the air, catching my scent markers but not pinpointing my position.
I waited.
The beta moved past the first trap trigger. Then the second. He was heading for the mine entrance, probably planning to catch me inside where the tunnels would limit my movement.
The third trigger was hidden under loose gravel.
His paw pressed down.
The rockslide started small—pebbles first, then fist-sized stones, then a cascade of boulders that I'd spent six hours positioning. The beta tried to leap clear. Too slow. Rocks hammered his hindquarters, sending him tumbling. His packmates scattered—one left, one right—breaking formation.
Perfect.
I dropped from my elevated position onto the isolated wolf on the left. Mountain lion claws found his spine before he could turn. Jaws closed on his neck. A twist, a crack, and he went limp.
[HOSTILE ELIMINATED: 1/3]
The beta was struggling to his feet, rear legs damaged but functional. The third wolf had wheeled around, snarling, trying to locate the threat. My mountain lion form blurred between boulders, circling toward the silver wire trap.
The third wolf spotted me. Charged.
Come on. That's it. Faster.
He was fast. Young and stupid and fast. The wire caught him across the throat at full sprint. Silver burned through fur and flesh in an instant. His momentum carried him forward another three steps before his legs buckled. The sound he made wasn't a howl—it was a scream. Human vocal cords forcing themselves through a wolf's throat.
[HOSTILE ELIMINATED: 2/3]
The beta had seen enough. He turned to run, dragging his injured hindquarters.
I caught him before he made it ten yards.
The fight was brief. He was bigger than me in wolf form—but injured, panicked, alone. My claws opened his flank. His jaws snapped at empty air. I circled, struck again, opened his belly. He collapsed. Tried to shift back to human form, maybe hoping I'd hesitate.
I didn't.
[HOSTILE ELIMINATED: 3/3] [COMBAT BONUS: +20 PE] [MISSION COMPLETE: TERRITORIAL DEFENSE] [REWARD: +75 EP]
The silence returned.
I shifted back to human form and surveyed the bodies. Three Skinwalkers who'd expected easy prey. Three corpses leaking blood into Montana dirt.
They deserved better. Not mercy—mercy was a luxury in this world—but better leadership. Cormac had sent them to die, and they'd followed orders because that's what subordinates did.
Lesson learned.
I dragged the bodies to the boundary markers where I'd issued my challenge. Arranged them facing outward, toward Cormac's territory. A message that required no translation.
You sent three. I sent three back. Come yourself next time, or send more.
The phones were in their discarded clothes—shifting destroyed anything they were wearing. Three cheap burners, probably used for coordination. I scrolled through contacts until I found one labeled "C."
My thumbs typed: Your move.
Send.
I dropped the phone in the dirt and crushed it under my heel. The other two I kept—they might have useful information once I had time to analyze them.
[SYSTEM LEVEL: 5 → 6] [DOMINION: 35 → 40] [EVOLUTION POINTS: 350] [HUNTER THREAT LEVEL: GREEN (5) — MINIMAL INCREASE]
A stream ran through the property about a quarter mile from the mine entrance. I followed it until I found a deep pool, stripped off my blood-soaked clothes, and waded in.
Cold. March in Montana cold. The kind of cold that made your bones ache and your muscles seize. I forced myself to stay, scrubbing blood from under my fingernails, out of my hair, off skin that had healed the minor scratches from combat.
The water ran pink. Then clear.
My hands were steady.
That should have bothered me more than it did. Three lives ended tonight. Three creatures who had probably been human once, before the change. They'd had names, maybe families, definitely fears and hopes and memories that were gone now because I'd decided I wanted a piece of land.
I waited for guilt. For horror. For some sign that the man I'd been still existed somewhere inside the monster I'd become.
Nothing came.
When did murder become mundane?
The question floated through my mind without an answer. I'd killed the Wendigo and felt relief. I'd killed these three and felt... efficiency. Satisfaction that the traps had worked. Already planning improvements for the next engagement.
The cold water numbed my skin. I climbed out, dried off with a spare shirt from my pack, dressed in clean clothes. The bloody ones I buried—no evidence, no questions.
[HOST PSYCHOLOGICAL ASSESSMENT: STABLE] [CORRUPTION INDEX: 18] [NOTE: TACTICAL KILLS DO NOT SIGNIFICANTLY IMPACT CI]
The System tracking my morality like a fitness app. I almost laughed.
Back at my sniper position, I settled in to wait. Cormac would come. The text message guaranteed it—I'd insulted him directly, in a way no Alpha could ignore. His subordinates had failed, and their killer had mocked him.
Pride was predictable. Pride would bring him to me.
The stars wheeled overhead. The wind whispered through pines. Somewhere in the darkness, an ancient predator read my message and began to move.
I checked my remaining silver wire. Inventoried my trap positions. Ran scenarios through my mind—bear form, wolf form, other possibilities.
Three days until he arrived.
Three days to prepare for war.
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