A sound tore through the trees even though night hadn't settled completely.
Out of nowhere, the noise sliced between trunks, so fierce it stirred memories deep under bark and soil. Birds launched upward, startled, feathers slapping air while the cry rolled on - clear at first, almost familiar, until it twisted, cracked open into raw animal need.
Beyond the peak, shadows howled back. A voice rose where stone met sky. Something stirred above the tree line. Echoes rolled through cracks in the night. Cold air carried their reply.
Fog clung low as voices swelled at once, heavy like storm clouds pressing down from the ridge. Not sorrow shaped those sounds, nor joy sparked them. Purpose did - sharp, unyielding - a signal moving through shadow.
Beneath it all, flames chewed through the trees of Virewood.
Flames like midnight crawled up old oak trees, burning because of spells instead of fuel. Magic from the witches stuck to wood and foliage, murmuring while it crept forward, trailing hexes through rising fumes. Marks floated above ground - rings shaped from soot and skeleton parts, buzzing as cloaked shapes stepped inside. Over the line they came. Once more.
A huge wolf sprang out, tall as a horse, shadow splitting beneath its weight. Moon glow washed its coat pale, while fire lit up inside its stare. Down it slammed, already moving fast, nails ripping through wet soil without slowing. Behind came others, thick forms surging forward, teeth clashing mid-air like metal on stone. Power lived in their limbs, anger stitched deep into every pelted frame. Together they flowed, not just hunting but bound long before this night ever began.
Leading them was Kael Blackmane, chief of the northern tribes.
Wrinkled marks ran across his face and front, faded streaks breaking up the shadowy coat - remnants of ancient spells, injuries that stayed open. Magic hit his nose hard, sharp like vinegar, stinging deep with every breath. A growl twisted his mouth when he saw them gathered there. Rings again. Never anything but rings.
Keep your edge, he warned, words rough yet clear through the wind. Move fast, even if their barriers try to hold you back
Snarling wolves raced forward, fur bristling, jaws snapping open. Not far behind came Ryn - her body marked by old fights, her stance firm as she led from the middle. Then Taro, barely grown, darting ahead without pause, driven more by instinct than thought. Close beside him moved Vex, calm where others rushed, already knowing which way they'd turn before their feet decided. As they ran, shapes blurred - limbs stretched, spines twisted - and one by one stood upright, skin replacing pelt, breath steady through human lungs.
Beneath heavy footsteps, the woods shivered but the women kept moving. Louder now came their voices, words bending oddly through darkness, clinging to bark and rock without warning. Above soil, a sharp hum built up - tiny bursts flickering just out of reach, waiting to catch hold.
Claws ripping through soil, Kael lunged ahead, body twisting in flight, jaws wide open. Not yet at the edge of the trees when one witch dropped - her magic burst raw against his plated chest. Fumes clawed their way into his breath, searing nostrils, blurring sight. Ground hit like stone beneath him; he rolled once, then surged upward without pause. Into chaos now, moving fast.
A blur of fur and fury circled him, shapes flickering between beast and man. When teeth snapped close, hands raked at armor just an instant later. Thick heat pressed on every breath - iron, soot, something older beneath. Flame arced across the field, thrown by one hooded figure, only to meet cold steel in flight. His blade split the fire, glowing faintly as embers fell like dying stars.
Out beyond the open space, a cry rang out - sharp, alive, clearly someone hurt, nothing like howls or spells. Not one of the beasts falling now, pinned by earth-born tendrils springing wild under dark magic's push. He moved fast, blade slicing coiled wood-things, dragging fur and weight clear before those snaking vines let out a wail then stiffened into stillness.
Hot blood pulsed beneath his claws, thick and slick against his coat. He hardly noticed. No ache. Just purpose. Staying alive mattered now. What he owed them kept him moving. The others needed him close.
That was when his eyes landed on her.
A figure stood where the trees opened. No ritual marked her arrival, only stillness. She was there. The one called Highest among witches.
A jolt went through Kael when he saw her. Around her, the air bent, flickered with energy that prickled the skin at his nape. Black leather cloaked her, carved with signs that glowed, squirmed like living things. Hair pulled taut behind showed a face both fierce and fine, marked by streaks of gray dust. Across the field, those eyes locked onto his - distant, sharp, endless.
A shiver ran through Kael's gut. Not fear - something older beneath the skin. A spark clicked awake, foreign yet known. Up he rose, teeth bared, every limb coiled tight. Her fingers rose too.
The forest exploded.
A sudden clash of magic and fur tore through the air. Not far off, wolves skidded sideways while witches vanished in gusts of smoke. Wood cracked apart, sending sharp pieces flying into the open. When the ground met Kael's body, it knocked the breath clean out of him. He twisted fast, just missing a thick spear of shattered bark. Flames flickered nearby, lighting his face as he pushed up onto one arm. Her shape stood clear in the chaos - his stare locked there.
Footsteps silent, the glow around her dimmed like dusk swallowing the ground below. She remained still.
"This forest no longer belongs to you," she said, voice carrying like steel and silk together. "Tell your king the covens are done retreating."
Just like that - then she was gone.
Breath tore through Kael's ribs, fire in every gasp, fingers raking the blackened ground. The others closed in - battered, torn open in places, yet still standing. Witches who made it out simply faded, swallowed by dark corners, only burnt air remaining.
"Gods above," Ryn muttered, wiping blood from his eyes. "She's - she's not just a witch. She's…different."
"Different doesn't cut it," Kael growled. His jaw ached from teeth grinding. "She's dangerous. We're lucky to still stand."
Taro shook his head, teeth chattering. "She watched us, Alpha. Calm. As if…as if she knew what we would do before we did it."
Kael's amber eyes narrowed. "She did. Every spell, every trap - we fell right into her game." He looked at the scorched clearing, at the shattered bodies of his pack and fallen witches alike. "She wanted us to see the destruction. To fear her. And she succeeded."
Vex padded forward, voice low, almost a whisper. "Alpha…something else. Something wrong. I felt it. When she was there…like a pulse. Deep. Not magic, not power…presence. Something older."
Kael's claws flexed against the dirt. "Presence or not, she's a problem for the war. And she just made it personal."
The sky lifted the moon into view, its glow slicing past smoke trails. Cold brightness touched Kael's skin, then something deeper - a slow burn building under his ribs: fur versus incantations, fang marks left in magic's wake. Songs will carry this hour, but so will nightmares.
Still, amid the noise, one idea chewed quietly beneath his skin - an idea he kept buried: she had stared at him. Not just glanced. Held her gaze too long for any sensible person fighting. While every instinct roared that he should despise her, crush her, something deeper - tight, raw, unwilling - knew who she was.
A sound ripped through the air - Kael's voice, shaped like a wolf's cry, echoing across broken ground. His eyes swept over bloodied earth, where silence now pressed hard against noise. This fight carried different weight. Backing away was no longer something the covens allowed.
Somehow, way down in his core, a quiet certainty took hold - things were going to unravel further.
Smoke curled through broken trees while moans slipped between cracks in the dark. Not far off, voices faded like echoes losing breath. A hush held everything tight - then a shape moved, slow and sharp. Her presence cut deeper than flame. Power hummed under her skin. This fight refused to stay buried.
Kael sheathed his sword, eyes fixed on the ridge above. "Rest. Heal. And be ready. The covens will come back. And next time…we may not survive the first strike."
Yet while talking, that look stayed stuck in his mind - cold, rigid, yet oddly close, like something lost long ago. Despite words leaving his mouth, her eyes held him still - sharp, motionless, carrying a hush from the past. Mid-sentence, it flashed again - the way she stared, freezing everything, bringing back what should have stayed buried.
It started with a spark. Alive now, the fighting breathed on its own.
Through the haze, Kael felt it - a storm building. Not only blood stirred there, yet fire crackled too, along with rage simmering low. Something deeper stayed hidden, sharp and silent, coiled under everything like breath held too long.