The forest was fire and blood.
The last dire wolf lunged at him, jaws wide, saliva spraying in strands of silver beneath the moonlight. Aiden's muscles screamed in protest, his legs barely obeying, but instinct and something deeper—something monstrous—dragged his body forward.
His sword arced through the air. Steel clashed against teeth, sparks bursting as fangs cracked. The wolf roared, claws raking across his shoulder. Hot blood poured down his arm. His knees buckled, but he forced them to hold.
Move. Don't stop. Don't stop now.
The wolf pressed harder, massive frame dwarfing him, claws digging into the soil with enough force to shake the earth. Aiden gritted his teeth and twisted, letting the beast's weight overextend its lunge.
That single slip was all he needed.
With a guttural cry, Aiden rammed his blade into its throat. The weapon sank deep, tearing through flesh and sinew. The wolf's eyes went wide with shock, its howl choking into silence as black blood spewed forth.
It collapsed.
The ground shook as the body hit the earth, dust and leaves scattering in a storm around Aiden. His chest heaved, every breath burning, the copper taste of blood coating his tongue. For a moment, he couldn't even believe it.
He'd done it.
The Dire Wolf Alpha—the Rank 5 predator that had slaughtered seasoned hunters—lay dead at his feet.
But there was no triumph in his chest. No cheer of victory. Only silence.
Aiden stumbled back, knees hitting the dirt. His hands trembled violently as he clutched his wound, blood seeping between his fingers. His vision blurred, the forest spinning around him.
And then—he felt it again.
That pull.
The wolf's essence—its raw, pulsing life force—lingered in the air like smoke from a fire. It called to him, curling invisible fingers around his mind, urging him to reach, to take.
Devour it.
The voice was not his own. Low, commanding, and yet eerily familiar. It echoed inside his skull, like the abyss whispering promises.
Aiden squeezed his eyes shut. No. Not again.
But his body moved. Against his will, against reason, his hand pressed against the cooling corpse. Darkness rippled beneath his skin, and in an instant, the wolf's essence surged into him like a floodgate breaking.
His veins lit with fire. His lungs seized. His heart pounded as raw power poured into him, tearing at every fiber of his being.
He screamed.
Not from pain alone—but from the overwhelming ecstasy of strength. The wound on his shoulder sealed halfway, not perfect, but enough to keep him from bleeding out. His muscles swelled with vitality, his senses sharpening. The forest around him became clearer—every rustle, every scent, every shadow.
When it finally ended, Aiden collapsed forward, gasping for air. The wolf's body crumbled into ash, scattered by the wind.
Nothing remained.
Not the Alpha. Not its essence. Only him.
And he was not the same.
Aiden looked at his reflection in a small pool beside the corpse's remains. His eyes glowed faintly—not bright enough to be obvious, but unmistakable to anyone who looked closely.
He tore his gaze away, chest tight.
"What am I becoming?" he whispered.
The forest gave no answer.
But it didn't need to. He already knew the truth. This power—the ability to consume, to grow from the strength of others—was not human. It was not natural. And yet, it was his.
A faint crunch of leaves pulled him from his thoughts.
Aiden's head snapped up, sword in hand, body trembling from both exhaustion and fear. The glow of a torch flickered through the trees.
A heavy voice followed. Familiar. Steady.
"Aiden?"
It was Garron.
The hunting captain's shadow stretched long across the blood-stained earth, his steps deliberate as he entered the clearing. His eyes swept over the scene—the shattered ground, the claw marks, the blood.
And then, his gaze fixed on Aiden.
Wounded. Bloodied. Standing over the ashes of something that should not have been possible for him to kill.
Garron's brow furrowed, suspicion flickering beneath his stoic mask.
"What in the hells happened here?"
Aiden's mouth went dry. The whispers of the abyss still coiled in his chest, urging silence, urging secrecy.
And for the first time since he had awakened this cursed talent, he realized something:
The true battle was not just against the monsters outside the walls.
It was against the people he had to hide from.
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