Suddenly, an arrow sliced through the smoke, striking a tree mere inches from Hazel's head.
Flames erupted where it landed, racing hungrily along the bark.
The Beastmen shrieked.
Their twisted forms writhed and contorted as fire devoured fur and flesh, the air filling with the sickening stench of burning hide. The forest became a hellscape of crackling wood and inhuman screams.
In the distance, Beta Simon's voice cut through the chaos.
"My Lord! Two women are trapped in the heart of the Beastmen—one matches the description of Roxanne. The fire has already consumed half the forest!"
Vangelis didn't waste a heartbeat. His form blurred, bones snapping and reshaping with a sickening elegance. Red fur burst forth, every strand glimmering like threads of molten fire. In one breath, his wolf form stood—towering, primal, a furnace of fury.
Then he leapt into the inferno.
The flames bent away from him, hissing at the touch of his heat-born power. Through the blaze, he caught sight of a figure—someone staggering forward with Roxanne slung across her back, moving with deliberate, desperate steps.
"Help… us…" the woman rasped, smoke curling from her lips.
In a heartbeat, Vangelis was there. The fire roared in protest as he surged past, scooping Hazel into one arm while ensuring Roxanne was shielded in the other.
Moments later, the pack saw a vision erupt from the flames—their Alpha, burning like a god of war, with two unconscious women trailing in his wake.
"Stop the bleeding!" Alpha Hanford barked, ripping cloth from his tunic and pressing it to Roxanne's side. The fabric darkened instantly, soaking with blood.
Hazel collapsed soon after, her breath shallow, her face pale.
"When will the Healer arrive?!" Vangelis's roar cracked the air like a whip.
"My Lord," Hanford replied grimly, "he left for the eastern mountains yesterday to gather rare medicine. We've tried mind-linking, but he's too far. We've sent word to neighboring packs to alert him."
He hesitated before adding, "But… we have an elf. She is mute, yet her skill with herbs rivals any healer. We've summoned her."
The elf entered silently, shadowed by maids carrying trays laden with herbs, steaming bowls, and small crystal vials. Her pale hands moved in swift, graceful signs, and her interpreter ordered everyone but the injured to leave the room.
Hours passed behind the closed doors, filled only with the soft clink of glass, the grinding of roots, and the sharp tang of healing smoke.
Finally, the elf emerged, her gown faintly stained with blood and ash.
"The treatment was successful," the interpreter announced. "Our herbs have drawn the poison from her body and sped her recovery. In a day or two, she will be whole again. Her friend will recover as well."
The room exhaled in relief—but Vangelis's burning gaze never softened. Because fire may have saved them tonight, but something far darker had placed them in its path.
A Few Hours Later..
"Lord Vangelis, we've restored the forest—it's back to normal," Beta Simon reported with a respectful bow.
Alpha Hanford stepped forward. "My Lord, we are deeply grateful for your aid. As a sign of our thanks, we've prepared three thousand wagons of meat to sustain your pack through the winter, so you won't have to purchase a single crate from the East."
Vangelis inclined his head slightly. "Your generosity is noted, Alpha Hanford. But before I depart, I must see that my patients are well. As for my kingdom—it will remain in good hands."
Hours later, a messenger found him.
"She's awake."
Vangelis wasted no time, striding to Roxanne's chamber. But before he could speak, her voice cut through the air—cold, clipped.
"Thank you for caring for us. We'll be leaving now."
"At least hear me out—" he began.
"Please… get out. I don't need you here, not when your words are nothing but hollow promises," Roxanne said, her gaze like polished steel as she pointed toward the door.
A heavy silence wrapped around them. Vangelis stood there for a moment, then turned toward the exit. At the threshold, he stopped.
"I've arranged a carriage. It's waiting to take you anywhere you wish."
In Front of the Palace…
"You shouldn't be leaving so soon—you've only just recovered," Alpha Hanford said, concern etched across his face.
"We'll be fine, Alpha. Thank you for your hospitality," Roxanne replied, guiding Hazel carefully toward the carriage.
An interpreter approached, holding out a small jar of ointment. She handed it to Hazel.
"She says you must apply this to your scars whenever the pain worsens. The wounds has touched your bones—it will help slow its bite."
Roxanne was about to climb in when a strong hand caught her wrist.
Vangelis's voice was low, almost pleading.
"Please… forgive me, Roxanne. I know I am at fault, but I never wanted us to be like this. We swore we'd be friends, and friends do not turn their backs on each other."
She yanked her hand free, her eyes like frost.
"Go to hell."
Without another glance, she entered the carriage.
Bloodmoon Mansion..
Vangelis strode into the grand hall, his voice echoing against the cold stone walls.
"Fiona?"
No answer—only the sound of measured footsteps descending the staircase. Phoenix appeared, his expression unreadable.
"She went to Silvermoon," Phoenix said smoothly. "I tried to stop her, but you know how she is—stubborn as the grave."
Vangelis's gaze softened slightly. "If it makes her happy, I'm fine with it."
But Phoenix's nostrils flared almost imperceptibly—catching a scent he knew too well. Hazel's.
"You meet anyone new?" he asked casually.
"Not really," Vangelis replied, turning toward the firelight. "I went to Rubymoon. Met the Alpha, a few of his people… and Roxanne. She had a mysterious companion, veiled, and very ill. She was given a balm for her scars and wounds."
Phoenix's eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second, then his tone shifted, light as silk. "You need rest. I prepared black tea for you." Without waiting for a reply, he slipped away into the shadows.
Redlunar…
"How is she?" Vangelis asked the healer, his voice low, as he gestured for the others in the room to leave.
The healer's face was grave. "We've tried everything to lower her fever, but it keeps rising. Her vitals are failing. I fear she may lose her sight… and if we don't save her soon, she will lose her wolf entirely."
Silence.
The healer bowed and left.
Phoenix moved to the bedside, kneeling beside the pale, unconscious woman. Her eyes were open, yet vacant—her body dulled, her spirit flickering. He brushed his fingers against her face with unnatural gentleness.
"I will save you from this misery," he whispered.
Rising, he summoned his Beta. "Koran—ride to Rubymoon. I have reason to believe Hazel is there. I'll join you shortly."
"Yes, Lord," Koran said, leaving without hesitation.
Rubymoon – The Inn
The warmth of roasting meat filled the air as Hazel and Roxanne joined a group at the crowded inn. They ordered pork in rich sauce with rice. Roxanne murmured a short, ancient blessing before lifting her cutlery, while Hazel—already halfway through her plate ,digging the food with her hands this drew stares.
Some snickered, whispering insults. Before Hazel could react, Roxanne reached across the table, gently taking her fork.
"I'll teach you proper table manners when we return," she said softly, and began to feed her.
The moment shattered when glowing ropes snaked through the air, wrapping around their necks. The burn was immediate, searing through skin. Hazel, gritting her teeth, grabbed a plate and smashed it. With the jagged edge, she slashed the wrist of the figure behind her—freeing herself in a single breath. Her speed carried her to Roxanne, cutting her loose, and together they bolted toward the cliffs.
But the path ahead was blocked.
A man stood there, shrouded in a black cloak, silver hair glinting under the moonlight. Behind them, men in white cloaks closed in.
Then—like a shadow breaking apart from itself—Phoenix was suddenly in front of them, his hand clamped around Roxanne's throat. Lifting her easily, he pulled back his hood, his electric eyes burning into hers.
"Remember me?"
Frost bloomed instantly across her neck and throat, freezing her voice in place. He hurled her over the cliff without hesitation. Hazel lunged, aiming to wound him and escape, but he was faster—striking her down before she could even breathe.
Hours Later – The Forest
Roxanne awoke in the branches of an ancient tree. Her body ached as she climbed down, but the icy grip around her neck and throat still lingered. She tried to speak—nothing. She was voiceless.
Redlunar – The Ritual Hall
Hazel's eyes flew open. For a moment, it felt like she was trapped in a nightmare—until she realized the truth. She was bound in crimson linen, pressed against Fiona, her every movement restricted. Rage surged through her; if she were free, she would strangle Fiona with her bare hands.
Across the room stood Phoenix and a priestess cloaked in black.
"Begin," Phoenix ordered.
The priestess began chanting, her voice dripping with ancient venom. The linen shimmered, and agony erupted through Hazel's body. Her skin felt as though fire and ice were battling beneath it, blood streaming from her nose and ears.
"Alpha," the priestess said, "the first ritual is complete. Shall I proceed with the blindness transfer?"
Phoenix's gaze was cold. He nodded.
"No! Please—my left eye is already blind—no!" Hazel's screams were cut short as darkness swallowed her sight completely.
The Next Day
Fiona awoke in Phoenix's arms, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as she kissed him.
"How are you feeling, Sapphire?" he asked.
"Good as new, dear," she replied.
"My Beta will escort you back to Bloodmoon. I have someone else to deal with."
She opened her mouth to protest, but one sharp look from him silenced her.
Phoenix entered Hazel's chamber. She sat on the bed, her unseeing eyes fixed on nothing, her lips moving in a faint, rhythmic murmur.
"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice hollow, as though speaking from the edge of despair itself.
As Phoenix watched him go, the last pieces slid into place. Roxanne wasn't acting alone. Hazel was at her side… and they weren't the only ones from Bloodmoon moving in the shadows.