The night was too quiet.
Even the crickets, normally relentless in their chorus, had gone silent. The only sound was the groan of the wind pushing through the trees. It carried with it the sharp scent of damp earth and… something else.
Blood.
Aiden lay awake in his small hut, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Sleep had abandoned him, chased away by the whispers of the council that still gnawed at his thoughts. Exile. Curse. Devourer. The words clung like burrs he couldn't rip free.
He shifted, restless, until the air shifted with him. The scent grew stronger. His body stiffened, instincts roaring louder than reason.
Something was coming.
He slipped out into the night.
The village was still, its huts shrouded in shadow, though here and there lanterns still burned. He didn't wake anyone. He couldn't—not when the gnawing in his chest told him this wasn't a threat to share.
His feet carried him past the fields, toward the treeline. The air grew heavier, the silence deeper. He could feel it—the forest itself watching, holding its breath.
And then he saw them.
Eyes.
Dozens of them, glowing faintly among the brush, gold and green and red. But it wasn't the pack of eyes that froze him. It was the one that rose above them all.
A Direwolf. Larger than any beast he had seen, its shoulders towering taller than a man. Its fur was silver-gray, scarred with years of battles, and its amber eyes glowed with a cruel, intelligent light.
A Rank 6 Direwolf Alpha.
The forest had answered his hunger.
---
The wolves moved first, slipping silently from the trees. Shadows made flesh, they fanned out in a crescent, hemming him in. Their growls reverberated through the earth.
Aiden's pulse thundered in his ears. He had fought Direwolves before—Rank 3 strays, lean and vicious but manageable. But this was no mere stray. This was a pack led by an Alpha, a predator that had outlived hunters, rivals, even monsters larger than itself.
Every instinct screamed at him to flee. But something else answered, something deeper.
Devour.
The hunger roared awake, crawling beneath his skin, sharpening his senses. The world became unbearably clear: the rhythm of paws pressing into soil, the stench of saliva dripping from fangs, the subtle shift in the Alpha's weight as it prepared to lunge.
Aiden exhaled slowly. Then he moved.
---
The first wolf sprang at his flank, a blur of gray fur and bared teeth. Aiden ducked low, hand snapping up to seize its throat. He twisted with a snarl that wasn't wholly his own, bones crunching beneath his grip. The wolf collapsed, whimper cut short.
The others didn't hesitate.
Two more lunged at once. He spun, dragging the dead wolf into their path. They collided, yelping in confusion, and Aiden's foot drove into one's ribs, sending it sprawling.
But the Alpha didn't move.
It watched. Studied. Its growl was low, almost approving.
Aiden's chest heaved. The hunger inside him clawed harder, urging him to feed, to tear into the corpses, to make their strength his own. His nails dug into his palms until blood welled.
Not yet. Not here. Hold it.
But holding it was agony.
---
The Alpha finally moved.
It stepped forward, each stride deliberate, its massive paws sinking into the soil. The smaller wolves slunk back, deferring instantly to their leader. The Alpha's amber eyes fixed on Aiden, unblinking, unyielding.
Then it lunged.
The ground cracked under its weight as it closed the distance in a heartbeat, jaws gaping wide enough to snap a man in half.
Aiden dove aside, barely avoiding the bite, but the sheer force of the beast's movement sent him tumbling across the dirt. He rolled to his feet, heart hammering, only to meet the Alpha again—already circling, already ready.
Its intelligence chilled him. This wasn't a beast acting on instinct alone. This was a commander, a predator that tested and adapted.
And Aiden knew, deep down, it wasn't here by accident. It had felt his hunger.
It had come to answer it.
---
The clash that followed was brutal.
The Alpha's fangs snapped like iron traps, its claws tearing furrows into the ground. Aiden's body screamed with every dodge, every counter. His blows landed, but they barely slowed the beast. Its hide was too thick, its muscles too dense.
Each exchange pushed him closer to the edge. His breath came ragged, his vision tinged red. The hunger surged, whispering promises in every strike.
Give in.
Take its strength.
Devour.
His restraint wavered. His next punch landed harder than it should have, his arm glowing faintly with that same black-gold aura he had felt against the Basilisk. The Alpha staggered, snarling in surprise.
And the hunger laughed.
---
Back in the village, the hunters had woken.
Shouts rang as men and women grabbed weapons, rushing toward the treeline. Torches lit the night, their flames wavering with fear.
From the shadows, Elder Harren watched, his face set like stone. "Do you see?" he hissed. "The forest itself brings monsters for him. His hunger calls them. He will doom us all."
Miriam clenched her staff, torn between running to aid Aiden and facing the undeniable truth. The wolves were here for him. No beast had ever dared venture this close to the village before.
For the first time, doubt gnawed at her.
---
The Alpha struck again, faster than before. Its jaws closed around Aiden's arm, teeth piercing flesh. Pain exploded, hot and sharp, but instead of weakness, it fueled the hunger.
Aiden's lips curled back in a snarl, his eyes glowing faintly. He didn't pull back. He pushed into the bite, his other hand slamming into the wolf's muzzle with bone-cracking force.
The Alpha yelped, releasing him, blood spraying into the dirt. Aiden staggered, clutching his torn arm, but his grin was feral.
The hunger was winning.
And the Alpha seemed to recognize it. It growled—not in anger, but in acknowledgment.
Two predators.
One claim.
---