"Kill him."
The cloaked man's voice was smooth, cold — not shouted, but absolute.
The wraithbeast lunged.
Finric hurled himself forward, claws meeting shadow in a violent collision that split the earth beneath them. Black blood splattered across the moss, hissing where it landed.
Fin: Cael. Aeron. Sterling. I need backup— now!
Nothing.
Silence.
Then a snarl.
The beast's claws raked across Fin's side, and he ripped back with his fangs, tearing through what passed for flesh. The creature screamed — a sound that wasn't a sound at all, more like static from another world.
Fin: Nova run now!
But Nova couldn't move. Something was holding her. Binding her.
She looked down. Shadow tendrils wrapped around her paws like chains, humming with unnatural energy. Her wolf struggled, heart hammering, but the more she pulled, the tighter they coiled.
The hooded man tilted his head, voice cutting through the chaos. "I said shift."
Nova gasped as her body obeyed. Her bones cracked, light flickered, and suddenly— she was standing there, human, trembling, exposed.
Only the Alpha of one's pack can force a shift. Yet this man did it with ease.
"What did you do to me?" She managed to choke out.
"The more you move," he said, stepping closer, "the tighter it gets."
He lifted one gloved hand, the other still hidden in the folds of his robe. "Maybe," he murmured, "we should make it a little stronger."
Agony tore through her wrists and chest. A raw, burning pain that stole her breath. She gritted her teeth, refusing to scream.
He reached forward, fingers grazing down her cheek, trailing along her jaw in a mockery of tenderness.
Fin felt it through the bond. His wolf roared.
Fin: DON'T TOUCH HER!
The words bled through the link before he could stop them.
The man's fingers traced lower, down the curve of her throat, stopping just above her breast. He tilted his head, studying her.
"You're marked," he said softly. His eyes flicked toward Fin, still locked in battle. "How interesting."
Rage rippled through Nova like fire. Her pulse roared in her ears. Her eyes began to glow— bright, furious silver.
"That's right, little wolf," he purred. "Get angry for me. Just like that."
His hand slid into her hair, and every cell in her body screamed to burn him alive.
He said something— words in a language older than time— and flicked his wrist. She recognized the language immediately as one she heard during her many times scrubbing floors in Ashbane. This tongue originated from the continent of Morbia.
Finric's body flew through the air, slamming into a tree. The sound of bone snapping echoed through the forest. His form wavered, shifting back into human as he hit the ground.
Nova tried to break free to run to him — but it tightened more. She let out a high scream.
The beast turned on him instantly. Its claws plunged into Finric's stomach — once, twice, again and again.
He coughed, blood spilling from his mouth.
He was dying.
The hooded man turned back to Nova. His knife flashed. He sliced her palm open — deep — and to her horror… brought her hand to his lips. Drinking her blood with his eyes not moving away from her.
She gagged, jerking her head away refusing to look at him.
"You taste better than I thought," he murmured.
Desperation seized her chest. Finric was barely breathing. She could feel him slipping.
"Change of plans," the figure said. A large glass vial materialized out of thin air. He cut her shoulder with a dagger, filling the vial with her blood.
"We'll meet again, little moon." He stepped back. The air behind him shimmered — dark, swirling, alive. A portal.
He vanished inside it, the wraithbeast slithering after him into the rippling black.
The bindings on Nova's wrists released instantly. She collapsed, gasping, clutching at her chest like she was trying to drag the air back into her lungs.
"No— no no no no—"
She stumbled over to Fin, her blood leaving a silver and crimson trail in the snow. His skin was pale, his breathing shallow.
"Stay with me," she begged, her voice breaking. "Stay—"
She looked at her hand. The hand that thing had just sucked on and shook her head. She grabbed a sharp stone from the ground, sliced open her other hand.
She squeezed it so her blood trickled into his wounds. Nothing happened.
Panic clawed its way up her throat.
She sliced her hand deeper down to her wrist, putting it into Fin's mouth.
"Please," she whispered. "Please, drink."
She tried using her powers to heal him, but no power came out. She was drained.
For a long, horrifying moment — nothing.
Then—
A shudder.
A groan.
Finric's lips moved, parting just enough to taste her blood. Then he gripped her wrist— and drank.
Hard.
A sound escaped him, half-growl, half-moan. His throat moved as he swallowed, again and again.
Nova had already lost a lot of blood from that man taking it. She felt light headed but didn't waver.
She blinked, the world spinning as warmth flooded from her veins into him. His hand held her steady, possessive even in weakness.
He drank like a man starved. Like her blood was salvation.
And when he finally looked up, his eyes were no longer hazel.
They glowed molten gold. His wolf.
That was the last thing she saw before collapsing onto him.