Hoofbeats shattered the silence of the night.
Kaelen, at the head of his most elite scout team, had broken away from the main army. They were a black arrow, flying through the rugged mountain roads, relying solely on the werewolves' extraordinary night vision to navigate the darkness.
"Alpha, we've been riding for six hours straight. The men need to rest," Drake urged, his horse pulling up alongside, his voice a little hoarse from the rapid breathing.
Kaelen didn't answer, just cracked his whip again, urging his horse onward.
"Kaelen, stop!" Rosalind finally couldn't take it anymore. She spurred her horse in front of him, blocking his path. "This isn't the way to Blackwind Valley!"
Kaelen reined in his warhorse, raising a hand, and the entire team came to a halt.
"You said in the meeting last night that we were going to launch a surprise attack on the South's supply depot!" Rosalind's voice was full of accusation. "But now we're heading back to the castle! What are you doing?"
She glanced at the equally exhausted scouts behind her, her voice growing louder.
"You didn't even notify Commander Gavin! The main army is still at the front! This is desertion!"
He swung himself off his horse. Before he could even steady himself, a searing pain, as if it would tear his very soul apart, shot through him again!
He let out a grunt and dropped to one knee, a cold sweat instantly beading on his forehead.
"Kaelen!" Rosalind immediately dismounted and rushed to his side, trying to help him up. "What's wrong? Is the curse acting up?"
Kaelen shoved her hand away. "Don't touch me!"
Drake also quickly came to his side, his expression grave. "Alpha, you haven't been yourself since last night. You suddenly decided to attack, and now you've changed course… what happened?"
Kaelen didn't answer immediately.
In his mind, Callum's voice from the previous night, steady and clear, was like a series of boulders crashing into a silent lake.
"Our new Alpha—Kaelen, has sent me to make a deal with you."
"A deal?"
"Yes," Callum said, looking at Kaelen. "We have discovered that the creation of the 'Ghoul-Wolf Knights' is the result of an evil sorcery, and the sorcerer is among the high-ranking members of your northern pack. Lord Kaelen had originally thought to use this to his advantage, but those things are uncontrollable demons. Our people have also suffered greatly."
Kaelen listened in silence as he continued.
"We suspect that the person hidden among you has great ambitions. He will not be satisfied with just using the southern Alpha as a puppet. Therefore, Lord Kaelen is willing to cooperate with you to eliminate this threat."
Callum paused, then changed the subject.
"As a sign of our sincerity, Lord Kaelen is willing to help you solve a 'problem.' He has heard that you are also extremely disgusted with the blood pact bride. As long as you agree to cooperate, the South will publicly announce that it was Miss Aila who colluded with us and leaked the North's military intelligence. At that time, you can legitimately hand her over to us, and we will take her back to the South for 'punishment,' which will also save your face."
A brilliant plan to kill two birds with one stone.
Kaelen's mind raced, analyzing the situation—Kaelen wanted to use his hand to eliminate the person controlling him from behind the scenes, and at the same time, to get rid of Aila and seize her coveted bloodline.
At that moment, the blood pact, which had been as if shrouded in a thick fog, was suddenly pierced by a sharp, intense pain! The pain was from the inside out, as if it would tear his soul apart!
He realized that Aila, far away in the castle, was in trouble!
He forced himself to look up, his lightless eyes fixed on Callum.
"This deal… is it Kaelen's idea, or your High Priest's?" He didn't believe that the cowardly, bullying Kaelen could come up with such a thorough plan.
A meaningful smile appeared on Callum's face.
Kaelen stood, his lightless eyes looking terrifyingly sharp in the darkness. He looked first at Rosalind.
"Rosalind," his voice was unquestionable. "You will take two men and scout the mountain pass ahead. We need to know if there is an ambush. Signal me immediately if you find anything."
"But Kaelen, your condition…" Rosalind looked at him with concern.
"That is an order," Kaelen's voice was as cold as iron.
Though reluctant, Rosalind had no choice but to obey, taking two guards and riding off into the darkness ahead.
With Rosalind gone, Kaelen turned to Drake.
"Drake, we are not launching a surprise attack on Blackwind Valley," he said, looking in the direction of Winterfang, his voice trembling slightly with pain. "We are going home."
Drake was stunned. "Home? Alpha, what happened?"
"Barton has joined forces with Kaelen of the South," Kaelen said, enunciating each word. "The war on the border was a feint, just as I suspected. Their real target is Aila."
"What?!" Drake was shocked.
"We don't have time," Kaelen's voice was filled with an unquestionable resolve. "Barton is making his move on her. We have to get back before the next full moon!"
Drake understood the gravity of the situation, his expression becoming incredibly grim.
"I understand, Alpha," he nodded heavily. "What do you need me to do?"
"I don't trust her," Kaelen said, glancing in the direction Rosalind had gone. "If she hadn't insisted on coming along at the military council yesterday, I wouldn't have brought this trouble with me."
"Now, I need you to take a small team, take another route, and intercept any messengers Gavin might send to the castle," Kaelen gave his new order. "I suspect they are also part of my uncle's plan. Remember, before we arrive, the castle must not receive any news of our return."
"But you…" Drake looked at his pale face, his eyes full of concern. "Your condition is not suitable for such a high-intensity ride."
"Execute the order!" Kaelen snarled through the pain.
Drake said no more, just nodded heavily, selected a few scouts, and quickly disappeared down another path.
Kaelen, once again forcing himself through the pain, mounted his horse and looked at the mountain range silhouetted against the night sky, only one thought in his mind.
Aila… wait for me.
After several days of intermittent, forced marching, the party took a short break in a hidden valley.
Kaelen's condition was getting worse by the day.
The pain from the blood pact was no longer intermittent but a constant, tidal wave of agony. During the day, he could still maintain consciousness through sheer willpower, sitting on his horse like a cold, unyielding statue. But at night, he would hide in the furs in his tent, a cold sweat soaking his tunic, his body alternating between fever and chills, his mind growing hazy, as if he were in the throes of a high fever.
He couldn't imagine how much Aila, who was personally experiencing all of this, was suffering.
Rosalind was tirelessly attentive to him.
She would personally hunt the fattest snow hares in the woods, carefully skin and debone them with her own small knife, and roast the most tender strips of meat, feeding them to him one by one. He usually refused, but occasionally, under her persistent insistence, he would mechanically chew a few mouthfuls.
At night, she would stand guard at the entrance to his tent. When he was caught in a nightmare from the pain, she would force her way into his tent and stubbornly hold his trembling body, lying fully clothed beside him.
This evening, Kaelen's condition was at its worst.
He was curled up in a corner of the tent, without even the strength to sit up.
Rosalind entered with a bowl of hot soup. Seeing his furrowed brow and pale face, her eyes filled with pain. She knew the full moon was approaching, and this might be the prelude to the full eruption of his curse.
She put down the soup bowl, sat beside Kaelen, and took his cold hand.
"Kaelen, do you remember?" her voice was exceptionally gentle. "The first time your curse acted up, when you were a child, you were just like this. Everyone was afraid of you, but I wasn't. You even bit me. I held you and sang to you all night."
She gently rolled up her sleeve, revealing a faint, but clearly visible scar on the inside of her wrist.
Kaelen didn't speak, just closed his eyes wearily.
"We grew up together. I thought we were destined to be together," Rosalind's voice was tinged with resentment. "Why? Why would you choose a southern half-blood of unknown origin over me?"
"She is different from you," Kaelen finally spoke, his voice hoarse.
"How is she different?" Rosalind pressed. "Is it because I am too strong? Or because my father is the Regent?"
Her voice was now choked with tears.
"Kaelen, have you forgotten? When I was seven, I ran off into the Black Forest and was almost eaten by ice wolves. It was you who rushed over alone and, with your still-unpracticed shifting, scared them away and carried me back."
"And," she looked at him, trying to awaken his memory, "when my father and Gavin's father joked about me becoming Gavin's Luna and ruling the Grey Wolf tribe, you were so angry you broke your favorite bow."
She placed her hands, calloused from years of archery practice, on the back of his hand.
"Every archery skill I have, wasn't it you who taught me, hand over hand? Kaelen… how could you just fall out of love?"
She leaned over and gently kissed his forehead, her voice a final plea. "Kaelen, forget her. If you are willing, I will convince my father to fully support you. We can, together, build a stronger North than ever before."
Kaelen slowly opened his eyes and looked at the face so close to his. For the first time, a deep weariness showed in his eyes.
"Rosalind," he said, enunciating each word, "I'm tired."
Outside the tent, the night deepened, and a blood moon rose. The curse within him, triggered by the continuous, intense pain from Aila at the other end of the blood pact, was finally stirring ahead of schedule!
He let out a pained grunt, and his body began to tremble uncontrollably. He bit down hard on his lower lip, and a trickle of red blood ran down the corner of his mouth.
"Kaelen!" Rosalind cried out in alarm. She grabbed his hand and brought her own arm to his mouth. "Bite me! Like when we were children! Bite me here!"
Tears streamed down her face. "I really… I would do anything for you."
In his agony, Kaelen bit down on her arm, almost by instinct. However, her blood brought no relief, but instead caused the rage within him to boil even more fiercely.
"It's not working… why isn't it working…" Rosalind watched him in his pain, on the verge of collapse.
Suddenly, she remembered something.
"The sedative!" She immediately fumbled in Kaelen's coat and pulled out the crystal vial Morgana had given him. "Quick! Drink this! It's a sedative made from Aila's blood!"
In his agony, Kaelen didn't think twice. He took the vial and drank it all.
However, as the liquid went down his throat, it brought no relief, but instead, like a raging fire, it instantly ignited all the violent power within him!
"ROAR—!"
Kaelen let out an inhuman roar and fell to the ground in pain, his body beginning to contort uncontrollably.
Watching Kaelen writhing on the ground, on the verge of completely losing control, Rosalind finally realized—she had been deceived. That was not a cure; it was a catalyst!
In the last moments before he completely lost his reason, Kaelen, seeing the terror in Rosalind's eyes, and feeling the churning agony within him, instantly understood—this was a conspiracy! Barton's goal was not to kill him, but to make him completely lose control in front of his trusted followers, to turn him into a murderous beast, and thus, to legitimately depose him!
"Quick! Chain him!" the scouts who had rushed in cried out in terror, trying to bind him with heavy iron chains.
But under the catalyst's effect, his strength was unprecedented.
BANG—!
All the heavy iron chains were instantly shattered!
Before the terrified eyes of everyone, Kaelen's body completely transformed, becoming a giant wolf, larger than ever before, its eyes burning with a crimson fire.
Just as the curse was about to consume the last of his reason, he once again felt Aila's near-death despair!
This extreme pain became the only guiding light in his chaotic consciousness.
He threw his head back and let out a roar of agony and rage. Following the only guidance from the blood pact, he ignored everyone's calls and, like a black bolt of lightning, ran like mad in the direction of Winterfang!