The bodies had disappeared.
By morning, the snow had swallowed every drop of blood. The clearing looked untouched, peaceful, almost. As if death hadn't danced through it just hours ago.
Kael crouched by the tree where the last wolf had hit. No broken bark. No claw marks. The forest had healed itself.
Or someone had helped it.
His eyes narrowed. The woman from last night still lingered in his thoughts like smoke, unsettling, calm, sharp.
She had appeared just as easily as she'd vanished.
No scent trail. No heartbeat. Not even a footprint.
He didn't trust it.
"Whether to save this world… or burn it."
Her voice echoed again, low and cryptic.
Who was she to speak of fate like that? Who was she to watch him fight without flinching?
Kael straightened, muscles tight. The forest was too quiet.
Then a whisper rode the wind. Soft. Teasing.
"Are you always this brooding, or is it just when you've killed something?"
He didn't flinch.
She emerged from behind a tree. Same dark cloak. Same piercing gaze. This time, she didn't hide her scent.
And what a strange scent it was, like ash and roses, blood and rain. Familiar, yet wrong. It curled around him, tempting and dangerous.
"I thought I told you to leave," Kael said flatly.
"No," she corrected, stepping closer. "You told the wolves you don't run anymore. You didn't say anything to me."
She was bolder now. Or maybe she had always been bold, just waiting for him to notice.
Kael studied her face. Her eyes were deep, dark like obsidian, but bright like firelight dancing beneath glass. He had seen fear in a thousand eyes.
But hers weren't afraid.
"What are you?" he asked.
She smiled. Not kindly.
"That's not the right question."
"Then what is?"
She tilted her head slightly.
"Ask me why I'm here."
Kael didn't like games. He didn't like riddles. But he didn't like how his instincts weren't warning him either.
That made her more dangerous than any monster he'd faced.
"Fine," he said, voice low. "Why are you here?"
She let the silence stretch before answering.
"To watch the prophecy unfold."
Kael's jaw clenched. "I don't believe in prophecies."
"Doesn't matter," she said. "They believe in you."
He turned away, scoffing. "I'm no savior."
"No one said you were." She walked beside him now. "Prophecies rarely favor heroes. They're just promises written in blood."
Kael stopped.
This time, he looked at her fully.
"You know who I am."
She nodded. "Kael Draven. Son of Seraphine, the Vampire Queen. And Lorcan, the exiled Alpha of the Northern Howl."
The names stung. Ghosts from a life he didn't ask for.
"You know too much," he muttered.
"I've had time to study with you," she said. "They've all been watching. Both clans. Both kingdoms. Waiting for the Crimson Moon to rise. Waiting for you to break the curse."
"There is no curse," he growled.
"Then why does your blood burn every time the moon turns red?" she shot back.
He fell silent.
She had him. Just for a second. She had him.
"I didn't catch your name," he said.
She hesitated.
Then: "Elira."
Kael nodded slowly. "And are you a spy, Elira?"
She laughed. "Not quite. I'm... invested."
"In what?"
"In whether you live long enough to decide anything at all."
Her smile faded as her eyes searched for him. She looked... sad. Or maybe resigned.
Before he could ask more, a sharp howl split the trees.
Kael's head snapped toward the sound.
Another howl followed. Then another. Not ordinary howls; these were war cries.
"They found you," Elira whispered.
"No," Kael said, stepping forward, eyes narrowing.
"They found us."