Thornak reined in his horse, his gaze sweeping across the group as they approached. His scouts, hardened by years of service, stood straight and alert. They were used to operating under pressure, but this felt different. There was tension in the air.
"Report," Thornak commanded, his voice low and steady, but edged with an urgency that couldn't be ignored.
The leader of the scouts, a tall man named Karv, stepped forward, his expression was grim. "We've seen signs, my King. There's movement along the border. Small, but it's not normal." He handed Thornak a bundle of tattered cloth. "This was found near the western pass."Thornak unfolded the cloth slowly. It was coarse linen, torn and blackened at the edges with strange markings on it, the fabric brittle where fire had touched it. A strange, acrid scent lingered on it, smoke, yes, but laced with something fouler. Magic. His gut twisted.
He held it up to the light, fingers tracing the singed fibers. "This wasn't from a campfire," he muttered. "Something burned this on purpose. Blood magic, maybe."
Ruvan leaned in, his expression tight. "Rogues don't use fire. They tear, they maim, they don't scorch."
"Exactly," Thornak said, eyes hardening.
"You think it's the same force behind the patrol disappearances?"
Thornak nodded once. "I do. This cloth… it's a message. Whoever's doing this isn't hiding anymore."
"Have you found any tracks?" Thornak asked, his gaze moving across the clearing.
Karv nodded. "Yes. But they're strange. Not like any wolf I've seen before."
Thornak clenched his fists at his sides. This wasn't rogue activity. This wasn't some random skirmish between rival packs. Someone was orchestrating this, someone with a plan.
"Set up a perimeter," Thornak ordered, his tone cutting through the tension like a blade. "I want a full sweep of the area. No one is to approach without my command. And no one goes into the forest alone."
Karv nodded and began issuing commands to the other scouts, who quickly dispersed into the trees, their movements smooth and practiced.
Thornak remained where he was, his senses stretching out, trying to grasp anything that would give him a clue about the threat they were facing. But the air was too quiet, the only sound the wind rustling through the branches and the occasional call of distant birds.
"This is just the beginning," Ruvan said quietly, riding up alongside him. "Whoever's behind this, they're not finished yet."
Thornak didn't answer immediately. His thoughts were clouded with the image of Lara, still recovering in his chambers. The weight of the bond between them thrummed through him, a constant reminder of her presence, her safety. His wolf growled low in his chest, eager to return to her side.
"We'll find them," Thornak said, his voice firm. "And when we do, there will be no mercy."
Karv returned a short while later with a pale face. "There's something we found, my King," he said, his voice tight. "There's an old ruin not far from here. We believe it's where they were hiding."
Thornak's brows furrowed. "Describe it."
"It's an old ruin deep in the western ridge, hidden by thick bushes and twisted trees. The open space around it felt strange. The trees nearby were dead, their bark dark and burned, like fire had eaten them from the inside. And the air smelled odd, like something wasn't right."
He took a deep breath before continuing. "There's a bloodstain near an altar. It looked new, not more than a day old."
Ruvan cursed low. "Ritual site."
Karv nodded. "Yes, and the altar at the center, it's been used. The ash was warm and there were remnants of burned cloth, like the one we brought. There were also bones arranged in a pattern. Not old bones, either. Some had flesh still clinging. Animals… maybe humans. Maybe not."
The words struck Thornak like a physical blow. Dark magic. The kind that could only be conjured by those who understood the ancient, forbidden ways of power. His stomach twisted, a cold knot forming deep inside him.
"Lead the way," Thornak ordered, his voice clipped. "And make sure the perimeter is secure. We move now."
The scouts mounted their horses, their movements quick and efficient. Ruvan, Dain, and Karv fell into position around Thornak as they began their journey toward the ruin.
As they neared the location, Thornak's mind raced. This was no random attack. It was a calculated strike, aimed at testing the strength of his kingdom. But why? And who had the power, or the audacity, to use such dark magic so close to Vargorath?
This place reeks of death, Jax snarled.
Thornak nodded slightly to himself. He felt it too.
As the first signs of the ruin came into view.
"Stay alert," Thornak growled, his eyes fixed on the ancient stones rising from the ground.
The forest thinned as they approached the ruin. What had once been stone walls were now broken down, half-buried under weeds and creeping ivy. The trees here were different, twisted, gnarled, their bark blackened just as Karv described.
As soon as Thornak dismounted a gust of wind swept through the ruins. It wasn't just cold, it was chilling. It carried a scent he couldn't place, a mixture of ash, blood, and something foul that kept his wolf on edge.
Ruvan and Dain followed closely, their eyes scanning the area. Karv motioned then to a set of crude symbols carved into the stone.
"Here," Karv said, kneeling. "These markings weren't here last time we patrolled."
Thorn went beside him. The symbols were rough as if they were curved with something sharp. The lines were dark and gave off a faint glow.
"Old magic," Ruvan murmured, crouching beside him. "Witch-born."
"Or worse," Thornak said. His voice dropped low, a rumble of warning beneath each word. "Blood offerings were made here. I can smell it in the stone."
He rose slowly. "Whoever's doing this is summoning power they don't understand or worse, they do understand it."
Dain looked around, his nose wrinkling. "There's no one here now. But someone's been using this place very recently, a day old perhaps."