The village was silent as he entered.
Aiden's steps dragged, each footfall heavy against the dirt path. His body was a map of bruises and gashes, dried blood crusted on his arms and neck, yet he held his head high. Behind him, the giant fang of the slain Alpha hung from a crude strip of leather, clattering softly with every movement.
The hunters froze when they saw it.
Their eyes widened. Their hands twitched toward their weapons, then faltered. They had faced Rank 3 beasts with difficulty, avoided Rank 4 whenever possible — yet the boy before them carried proof of something greater.
Aiden passed them without a word. His breath was shallow, his vision blurry, but he would not let them see weakness. Not now.
---
Children peeked from behind their mothers. Farmers stopped in the middle of their fields. The whispers spread faster than fire on dry grass.
"That's… the Alpha's fang…"
"No way… He'd be dead."
"He went in alone."
"Is he even human?"
Each voice was a needle against his skin.
But Aiden kept walking, forcing his legs forward until he reached his small hut at the village's edge. His hand fumbled with the door. His vision swam again. The moment the door shut behind him, his knees buckled.
He collapsed onto the floor, chest heaving.
The power inside him was still there, writhing like a caged beast. The Alpha's vitality had been swallowed whole, and it rattled in his veins, unsteady and volatile.
He pressed a hand to his chest, eyes squeezing shut.
It's too much. If I lose control…
The Devourer's whisper was there again. Tempting. Mocking.
Devour more. Grow more. Or be crushed beneath it.
---
The knock at his door was soft, hesitant.
"Aiden?"
The voice was familiar. Mira.
For a moment, he thought about ignoring her. But the door creaked open anyway, and she stepped inside, holding a small bundle of cloth and herbs.
When her eyes fell on him, her face paled.
"You… you really did it."
He looked away. "Why are you here?"
"To keep you from dying on the floor," she snapped, though her voice trembled. She knelt beside him, setting the herbs down. Her hands were gentle but firm as she began cleaning his wounds, binding cloth where his skin had been torn open.
Aiden hissed but didn't push her away.
Mira's lips pressed thin as she worked. Her hands shook. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
"They're afraid of you."
Aiden's eyes flicked to her. "Afraid?"
"They saw the fang. They saw you come back alive." Her hand paused over his arm, tightening the bandage. "No one survives a Rank 5. Not without… not without something unnatural."
Her eyes searched his, hesitant.
"What are you becoming, Aiden?"
---
He had no answer.
His throat was dry, his chest heavy with truths he couldn't voice. About the hunger. About the whispers that weren't his own. About the way he felt stronger every time he killed.
He forced his gaze away. "I'm surviving."
Her hands stilled. Silence hung between them, thick and heavy.
Finally, Mira rose, gathering her herbs. "Surviving… doesn't always mean living."
She left him with that, the door closing quietly behind her.
Aiden sat there, his head against the wall, her words echoing like a blade in his chest.
---
The next day, Elder Rowan summoned him.
The old man sat at the long table in the hall, his back straight despite his age, his eyes sharp as hawk talons. The hunters flanked him, their expressions grim.
Aiden stood before them, shoulders squared, the Alpha's fang tied to his belt like a silent declaration.
Rowan's voice was calm, too calm. "You killed the Alpha of Blackwood?"
"Yes."
The hall murmured. Disbelief, awe, fear.
Rowan leaned forward slightly. "How?"
Aiden's jaw tightened. He had prepared no lies, no excuses. He could feel their stares pressing down on him like stones.
"I fought," he said simply. "And I didn't die."
Some scoffed. Others whispered again.
Rowan's eyes did not leave him. "Strength like that is not normal." His voice was low, dangerous. "Nor is it safe. A boy with the power to slay an Alpha… is a boy who may one day bring ruin."
The words hung like a sentence.
Aiden's hand brushed the fang at his belt. His pulse quickened, anger stirring. But before he could speak, Rowan raised a hand, silencing the hall.
"Yet…" The elder's gaze sharpened. "That same power now shields us. The Alpha is dead. The wolves will scatter. The forest is quieter because of you."
Confusion rippled through the hunters.
Rowan's voice deepened. "So I say this: fear him, but do not cast him out. Not yet. The village needs his blade."
---
When the meeting ended, Aiden stepped into the cool air, his mind storming.
Fear him.
Do not cast him out.
He clenched his fists.
They didn't see him as one of their own anymore. Not a son of the village. Not even a hunter. He was something else. Something they couldn't name, something they couldn't control.
And perhaps… they were right.
The hunger inside him pulsed at the thought, almost pleased.
---
That night, the forest was still. But Aiden did not sleep.
He sat outside his hut, staring into the endless dark of the trees. His wounds ached, his body screamed, but his spirit burned brighter than it ever had.
He was climbing. Too fast, maybe. Too dangerously.
But he could not stop now.
Because in the distance, past the quiet forest, past the whispering village, he felt it — a weight heavier than the Alpha, a darkness deeper than wolves.
Something sealed. Forgotten. Stirring.
And if he was to face it, he would need more.
More strength.
More power.
More everything.
His hand closed around the Alpha's fang.
The hunger whispered, soft and sweet.
Devour. Climb higher. Survive.
---