Damian remained motionless.
The forest had returned to normal.
Wind moved once again through ancient branches, carrying cold whispers among leaves. Somewhere far away an owl cried, while insects slowly resumed their song.
Yet to Damian nothing felt normal anymore.
Blood still dripped from his nose.
His chest rose heavily.
The image remained burned inside his mind.
Chains.
Darkness.
That crimson eye.
And the voice.
COME.
His claws dug into the earth.
"What was that…?"
His own voice sounded unfamiliar.
Lower.
Rougher.
His wolf instincts were uneasy.
That disturbed him more than the vision itself.
The wolf feared very little.
It understood prey.
Predators.
Territory.
But what Damian had just witnessed...
his instincts could not understand.
Which meant it belonged to something older.
Something beyond simple danger.
He slowly lifted his head toward the moon.
Its silver light fell across his white fur.
And for a brief second...
he felt watched.
Not by eyes.
But by the moon itself.
The sensation disappeared immediately.
Damian narrowed his crimson eyes.
Then...
a familiar scent reached him.
Sirius.
And behind him
Silas.
The prince turned.
The executioners emerged from shadows without haste.
Their expressions remained controlled.
Though Damian noticed something unusual.
Sirius was studying him.
Carefully.
As if evaluating damage after battle.
Silas whistled softly.
"Your Highness…"
His eyes moved across Damian's transformed body.
"You became even larger."
Damian ignored the comment.
His attention remained on Sirius.
The executioner stepped forward.
"Are you injured?"
The prince wiped blood from beneath his nose using the back of one massive paw.
"No."
Sirius looked at the blood anyway.
He said nothing.
But he noticed.
The prince had not been wounded.
Yet blood had appeared.
That meant internal pressure.
Or something worse.
Damian spoke first.
"Did you see it?"
Silence.
Silas frowned.
"See what?"
Damian stared toward the trees where the figure had stood.
"There was someone."
Sirius followed his gaze.
The forest remained empty.
"No one is here."
Damian's eyes narrowed.
"There was."
He rarely repeated himself.
And Sirius knew it.
The executioner stepped closer.
"What did you see?"
The prince remained silent for several moments.
His instincts warned him.
Not fear ...caution.
He finally answered.
"A figure."
Silas crossed his arms.
"Enemy?"
Damian hesitated.
He did not know.
"No scent."
That answer immediately sharpened Sirius' expression.
No scent?
Impossible.
Everything living possessed scent.
Even magic carried traces.
Sirius looked toward the forest again.
"Describe them."
"Dark robes."
Damian's voice lowered.
"And silver eyes."
Silence followed.
Wind moved between them.
Silas frowned.
"Silver eyes?"
Damian nodded.
"They spoke."
"What did they say?" Sirius asked.
The prince looked away briefly.
His thoughts returned to those words.
Moon-born child.
The blood remembers.
Key.
He hated speaking about things he did not understand.
Especially when he sounded uncertain.
But this...
this could not be ignored.
"They called me Moon-born."
Neither executioner reacted outwardly.
But Sirius listened carefully.
"And?"
Damian's gaze darkened.
"They said…"
He paused.
"...that I carry two curses."
Silas snorted.
"Then they sound stupid."
But Sirius remained serious.
Damian continued.
"They said I am not a creature."
His crimson eyes narrowed.
"But a key."
The forest grew quiet again.
Silas no longer smiled.
Sirius asked slowly...
"What else?"
Damian looked toward the moon.
"They showed me something."
That caught Sirius' attention.
"Magic?"
"I don't know."
The prince clenched his claws.
"There were chains."
His voice grew quieter.
"A place without end."
"And something imprisoned."
Neither executioner interrupted.
Damian rarely spoke like this.
Usually calm.
Usually composed.
Now, something unsettled him.
Then he spoke the part he hated most.
"It looked at me."
Silence.
Sirius felt cold.
Not from fear...
but instinct.
The prince finally looked toward him.
"And then the figure disappeared."
Silas exhaled.
"So either someone is playing tricks..."
"No."
Damian interrupted.
The single word carried authority.
Silas stopped speaking.
The prince's eyes glowed brighter.
"This wasn't illusion."
Sirius believed him.
Not fully... but enough.
Damian was not childish.
Nor weak-minded.
And awakened bloodlines occasionally experienced strange phenomena... especially hybrids.
Still...
something troubled him.
He had sensed something earlier.
Only briefly.
Like cold passing through old bones.
The executioner hid his thoughts.
"We return to the castle."
Damian looked toward him.
"You think I'm mistaken?"
"No."
Sirius answered calmly.
"I think this forest has watched many strange nights."
The prince studied him.
"You know something."
Sirius met his gaze.
"I know caution."
Silence lingered.
Then
Damian's ears twitched.
His body stiffened.
New scents.
Fresh.
Fear.
Blood.
The wolf inside him awakened instantly.
His pupils narrowed.
Sirius noticed immediately.
"What is it?"
Damian sniffed the air.
His voice lowered.
"Blood."
Silas frowned.
"Animal?"
The prince shook his head.
"No."
His crimson eyes turned west.
"Human."
Before Sirius could answer, Damian moved.
BOOM.
The ground exploded beneath him.
Wind struck both executioners violently.
Silas cursed.
"He ran again!"
Sirius' expression hardened.
"Follow."
They vanished after him.
Miles away...
three figures stumbled through the forest.
Their clothes were torn.
Faces pale.
One of them...
a young woman...
could barely remain standing.
Blood covered her left arm.
Her breathing was ragged.
The older man beside her held a sword stained black.
"Keep moving."
His voice was tense.
"We're close."
The younger man behind them shook his head.
"No…"
Fear dominated his face.
"They're still following."
The woman winced.
"We shouldn't have crossed Darkheart land…"
Then...
they heard it.
A howl.
Wrong.
Twisted.
The younger man paled.
"They found us."
Branches exploded behind them.
Three shapes emerged.
Not wolves.
Not werewolves.
Beasts.
Malformed creatures covered in black fur and exposed bone.
Yellow eyes.
Drooling mouths.
The older man cursed.
"Run!"
The beasts attacked.
And above them...
hidden among ancient branches...
Damian watched.
His massive white body blended strangely with moonlight.
He saw everything.
The fear.
The blood.
The hunt.
And the wolf inside him...
wanted it.
Not to protect.
Not to save.
To dominate.
To kill.
His breathing deepened.
Below...
the first beast lunged.
The older warrior blocked.
Too slow.
Claws tore through flesh.
The man screamed.
The woman stumbled.
The younger male drew a dagger with shaking hands.
Hopeless.
Weak.
Prey.
Damian's lips slowly peeled back.
His instincts surged.
These creatures hunted...
inside his forest.
And the wolf did not tolerate trespassers.
His muscles coiled.
The moon shone brighter.
Then...
Damian jumped.
The night exploded.