23. Atticus

23

ATTICUS

T he night cloaked us as we moved through the forest, each step deliberate and hushed against the carpet of fallen leaves. The moon offered scant light, and the long, sinister shadows between the trees seemed to grasp at us with skeletal fingers.

My pack, my family by choice, flanked me. They were ready. Wary, but ready.

Aria’s presence called to me in the darkness, her scent intertwined with the earthy aroma of the woods. We were joined forces tonight, her pack and mine, melding into one as we infiltrated enemy lines. The Crimson Fang territory lay ahead, an invisible line that we crossed with purpose, trespassers in a land where death waited.

Guilt tickled at me. There was a secret lodged in my craw, heavy and poisonous, and it threatened to spill out. But this wasn’t the time for confessions. By breaching her father’s shields and digging through his thoughts, I’d gained insight into his doubts about me. But I wasn’t sure Aria would see my invasion of her father’s privacy the way I did. I had to push past the insecurity that clawed at my insides, the whispers that I was unlovable. That once Aria knew what I’d done, her forgiveness would be a treasure beyond my reach.

“Stay alert,” I said, barely above a breath, but they heard. They always did.

Aria moved closer to me, a silent question on her face as her hand brushed mine. I wanted to seize her hand, to reassure her with my touch, but instead, I clenched my fist and focused on the way ahead.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“Of course,” I said smoothly. Her apprehension pulled at me, but I couldn’t afford to drown in my own guilt, not when so much was at stake.

We advanced, each footfall a soft thud on the mossy grass, our movements as fluid as the night breeze. My wolf stirred, ready to leap out of my skin and into the fray.

Aria stayed close. She was composed, a born leader. But love would have to wait, at least for now. There were lives to save and enemies to confront. I had captured her love, but tonight, I had to be the protector, the fighter, and nothing else.

We were deep in enemy territory now, in the eerie quiet of the forest. This was the moment of truth, and I was ready. With every step, I cast aside my demons, hardened my soul, and prepared to face whatever hellish welcome the Crimson Fang had in store for us.

The forest’s silence was a heavy blanket, suffocating in its intensity as we advanced into the center of the Crimson Fang’s territory. Moonlight filtered through the dense canopy as my pack moved with a stealth honed from years of survival.

I could feel Aria’s presence behind me. It was for her, for all of them, that I pushed aside the guilt that clawed at my insides. The secrets I harbored were thorns in my side, but they would not deter me from my mission. Seren needed us, and the amulet, that cursed talisman, had to be reclaimed.

Caius’s intentions were a murky abyss I dared not peer too deeply into. The threat of his betrayal loomed intensely. Yet, my purpose remained unbroken. I would let nothing stand in our way.

“Atticus,” a hushed voice said from the underbrush, and I braced myself as the Silver Claw pack members emerged. In their company, we were drawn together by a common cause, bound by blood and allegiance.

“Let’s keep moving,” I said.

There was an understanding there, a silent pact. We slid through the forest, a ghostly procession threading through the quiet of night.

We traversed the undulating terrain, dancing with darkness. Here in the forest, our fates would unfold, written in blood and borne on the whisper of leaves. Taut muscles rippled beneath my skin, ready to spring forth at the earliest sign of treachery. Every rustle, every snap of a twig beneath our feet was a note in the symphony of suspense that played. We were interlopers in a hostile land, but our purpose was righteous, our courage unwavering.

We emerged on the fringes of the Crimson Fang camp, a ghost town of eerie silhouettes and abandoned hearths. My senses, honed to detect the faintest signs of life, found nothing.

The light played tricks on the vacant tents, casting long shadows that seemed to slither and move with malevolent intent. Each step was a descent into a maw of uncertainty, yet I pushed forward.

Aria looked over the emptiness. She was ready to unleash her fury should the need arise.

“Is this a trap?” she asked.

“Perhaps,” I said, constantly glancing around for any sign of movement. “If so, they’re just as cunning as we feared.” The possibility twisted in my gut, a gnarling suspicion that urged caution with every silent footprint we left behind.

I scanned the perimeter, each ounce of darkness a potential harbinger of betrayal. The stillness was a riddle, one that promised violence hidden beneath its veneer of peace. Yet, for all its foreboding quietude, the camp revealed no adversaries, only the lingering scent of cold ash and lost whispers.

“Be ready for anything,” I cautioned.

Aria nodded, her fingers tightening on mine. We trod through the domain of our enemy, our senses on high alert.

I couldn’t shake the thought of Caius and his obscure motives. Could he truly be entwined with the enemy? No, I couldn’t doubt. I had to protect my family, especially Aria, whose impulse-driven nature often left her exposed.

Suddenly, a small clearing emerged before us. Seren was sprawled in the center, her chest rising and falling with the shallow gasps of the weary or wounded. Aria released my hand and surged forward with a fervor that outpaced reason.

“Wait,” I hissed, but it was too late.

As Aria reached Seren’s prone form, a dark silhouette materialized from the night, a Crimson Fang warrior, his blade gleaming against Aria’s throat. Time slowed to a crawl, my blood booming in my ears.

“Release her!” I yelled, the power of the shadows thrumming in my veins, an arsenal at my fingertips, yet useless against the blade’s threatening press.

“Atticus!” Aria shouted. “Don’t...”

I locked gazes with the enemy. My instinct screamed to launch myself at him, to rip him apart with tooth and claw, but the precariousness of her situation tempered my rage. I had to be the eye of the storm—calm, calculating—lest my temerity seal her fate.

The night erupted into a sinister ballet. Crimson Fang members appeared from all over the place. We were surrounded, the forest no longer a refuge but a stage set for our demise.

The sickening click of the amulet’s missing piece falling into place snapped my attention forward. Caius emerged from the darkness, the traitor’s silhouette bathed in the ghostly moonlight. His hands, steady and sure, fitted the stolen shard into the amulet with a casual ease.

“Impossible,” I muttered. My whole world shifted. That piece, the very reason for our mission, had been safeguarded with my own belongings. Now, it lay in his treacherous palm. It was more than mere theft; it was the shattering of trust, the unraveling of what little semblance of order remained.

Caius’s malevolent grin split his face as he savored the shock rippling through our ranks. My heart, which had quivered with fear for Aria, now burned with a cold fire, the sting of his actions fueling a newfound rage.

“You bastard!” The words slipped out of my clenched teeth, each syllable dripping with venom reserved for Caius, the man who had sired me and now forsaken us all.

Caius’s duplicity had endangered Aria, which made my rage ten times worse. How could I have allowed this to happen?

Aria’s eyes locked onto mine, ferocious and unyielding, and something in me shifted. It wasn’t just my fight anymore—it was ours.

The man I called father had become an architect of chaos, his motives as dark as the night that enveloped us. A knot tightened in my gut, not solely from the danger we faced but from guilt. Every decision that had led us here, every direction I had chosen, was a curse of my own making.

I took a step forward, the muscles in my body winding tight, ready for the inevitable clash. I would not let my father’s machinations be the end of us. For Aria, for Seren, for all that we dared to hope for, I would stand defiant against the darkness.

With that thought, I found a strange, unyielding calm. Let the world bear witness to the power of a love that refused to yield, even as it neared ruin.

Seren lay at the feet of the betrayer, her spirit undiminished despite the shackles that restrained her. In her expression, I found not defeat but a fire waiting for the right time to blaze.

Aria’s father, his back bristling with tension, stood helpless as the sharp blade kissed the tender skin of his daughter’s throat.

It was then, in that heartbeat of despair, that Seren’s will broke free from its chains. With a fierce cry, she summoned an ancient and forgotten magic, her voice the conduit for a power long buried beneath the layers of time. Ethereal figures materialized from the ether, Silver Claw warriors risen from their eternal rest to help those they had sworn to protect.

The spirits swept through the ranks of the Crimson Fang with a fury that turned blood to ice. Their spectral claws rendered flesh and spirit alike, sowing disorder among the living who dared defy the sanctity of their final rest. The forest erupted into a melody of snarls and howls, a battle between realms.

How ? How could these spirits affect the world? Spirits shouldn’t have any physical impact on us.

I didn’t have time to ponder this escalation. As the spirits fought, my focus crystallized. For love, for vengeance, for the future we dared to dream.

“Fight, Aria!” I called. “For your pack, for your father, for your best friend!”

And fight she did, with the ferocity of the wild itself, her movements a dance of death. She took down one attacker even as another advanced upon her from behind, his sword raised. Before I could cry out a warning, Aria whirled and brought her arm up. The attacker’s sword sliced down, and in a gut- wrenching moment of terror, I thought he’d taken her arm off. Sparks flashed as the sword hit the bracelet I’d given her, and the stones disintegrated.

Seren’s slender form had become the conduit for a magic beyond mortal ken. Ethereal light cocooned her, piercing the night. The spirits heeded her call, their spectral forms emerging to do battle after battle with the Crimson Fang. My chest swelled with wonder and unspoken gratitude. In our darkest hour, it was Seren who shone the brightest.

With the spirits wreaking havoc, the tide turned. I sprang into the fray, driven by the need to protect and reclaim what was ours. I homed in on the pack member whose blade had pressed against Aria’s throat. His eyes went wide with terror as the apparitions descended on him. I surged forward, my body moving with predatory grace, and dispatched him with a swift, silent strike. His body crumpled to the ground.

Without missing a beat, we rushed to Seren’s side, the bindings that held her no match for our combined fury. As they fell away, she collapsed into Aria’s arms.

The forest came alive with Lyza’s summoned creatures, a menagerie of fangs and claws that fought alongside us. Eldan, his fur a blur in the night, fought with a ferocity that matched the legendary warriors of old. Joren, Mia, and Hale moved as one.

As I called the shadows, they wove in and out of our adversaries with lethal precision. We were retribution, we were justice. We were their doom.

The amulet, pulsing with an ominous light, lay forgotten. But not for long. I grabbed the artifact that had been the catalyst for so much bloodshed. Its cool surface kissed my fingers, and its power surged through me, a promise of victory tinged with the bitterness of betrayal.

A collective howl rose from the Silver Claw, a sound of triumph. I looked at the faces of those I had come to call family, scarred with the lines of battle and the relief of having overcome insurmountable odds. Our bond, wrought in the heat of conflict, was unbreakable.

And yet, even as we stood amongst the disarray of our foes, the cruel sting of fate had one more blow to deliver. A scream shattered the peace.

“Ragnar!”

The Crimson Fang alpha appeared behind Aria’s father with a serrated blade gleaming under the moonlight. With a swift, vicious motion, steel pierced flesh before the formidable Silver Claw alpha could turn to face his opponent.

Aria’s scream tore through the stillness, primal and heart-wrenching. She bolted toward her father’s murderer. I took off after her, my boots pounding against the forest floor, the distance closing with each stride.

The alpha turned, his blood-stained grin a mockery of triumph. Not today. I launched myself at him with a growl that came from the darkest corners of my soul. Our bodies collided with the force of thunderstorms. His hands sought to overpower, but they found only the resistance of a man with everything to lose.

“Never again,” I snarled, the taste of vengeance bitter on my tongue.

His eyes widened as I struck. The alpha’s grip faltered, his lifeblood seeping onto the ground. A shudder ran through him, and then he crumpled, a marionette with its strings cut.

“Father…” Aria’s voice broke as she fell to her knees beside Ragnar, her hands trembling as they reached for him.

I was there in an instant, offering what little comfort I could. “Shh, I’ve got you.” I pressed a kiss to her temple, experiencing her grief as acutely as if it were my own.

I studied the scene, ensuring no further threats lingered. Larkin stood off to the side, his expression bleak. My own father’s gaze met mine, relief blazing in his eyes.

Relief? I would ponder that later.

“Forgive me,” I said to Aria, though forgiveness was a gift neither of us could grant just yet.