The morning sun in the Silver Moon territory didn't bring warmth; it only illuminated the jagged edges of the grey stone fortress.
Elara stood by the heavy iron-bound gate, wrapped in a thick fur cloak that smelled faintly of Kaelen. Her face was pale, her expression a mask of fragile exhaustion. Behind her, Ren stood like a gargoyle, his eyes scanning the tree line with a clinical detachment that made Elara's skin crawl. He hadn't spoken a word to her since the previous night, but the way he sharpened his obsidian dagger whenever she looked his way was a message in itself.
"The Alpha is ready," Sophia announced, stepping out of the shadows. She held a small leather satchel, and as she passed Elara, she leaned in close. The scent of bitter herbs and dried wolfsbane wafted from her. "Be careful out there, human. The forest has a way of swallowing things that don't belong."
Elara lowered her head, her voice a small, broken reed. "I... I just want to see the sun."
Sophia let out a short, sharp laugh and walked away without another word. She didn't believe a single syllable that came out of Elara's mouth.
A moment later, Kaelen emerged. He wasn't dressed like a king today; he looked like a soldier. Dark leather armor, a heavy broadsword strapped to his back, and an aura of suppressed violence that seemed to make the very air hum. He didn't look at Elara directly, but he grabbed her hand, his grip possessive and unyielding.
"We're patrolling the Western Ridge," Kaelen informed his commanders. "The rumors of rogue wolves near the border need to be addressed."
"Is it wise to take the human, Alpha?" one of the elders asked, his voice laced with disapproval.
"A king travels with his treasures," Kaelen replied, his voice echoing across the courtyard. He looked down at Elara then, a sharp, predatory glint in his eyes. "Isn't that right, Elara?"
Elara merely nodded, leaning her head against his arm in a display of submissive devotion. Inside, her mind was a whirlwind of tactical data. Western Ridge. High elevation. Overlooks the Moonstone vault's ventilation shafts. Perfect.
The trek through the forest was grueling. Kaelen set a pace that would have broken a normal human woman, but Elara maintained it by subtly adjusting her breathing and using the "limp" she'd established earlier to hide her true stamina.
Kaelen's hand never left hers. It felt less like a romantic gesture and more like a shackle. He was constantly checking her pulse, his thumb resting over her radial artery.
He's waiting for me to trip up, Elara thought. He's waiting for my heart to race when we get closer to the restricted zones.
"You're very quiet today," Kaelen remarked as they reached a rocky outcrop. Below them, the forest stretched out like a sea of dark emerald.
"I'm just... taking it all in," Elara whispered. "It's beautiful. And terrifying."
"Like most things worth having," Kaelen said. He pulled her closer, his arm winding around her waist. To any observer, they looked like a pair of lovers admiring the view. But Elara felt the way his muscles were coiled, ready to spring.
Suddenly, a bird took flight from a nearby thicket, its wings flapping frantically.
Ren vanished into the trees without a sound. Sophia gripped her satchel, her eyes turning a faint, glowing violet.
Kaelen didn't move. He didn't even draw his sword. Instead, he tightened his grip on Elara, his chin resting on her shoulder. "Tell me, Elara. If a wolf were to jump out of those bushes right now, would you scream? Or would you run?"
"I'd... I'd stay by your side," she said, her voice trembling perfectly. "You're the only one who can protect me."
"Liar," Kaelen breathed into her ear. It wasn't an accusation; it was an observation. "You'd use me as a shield and disappear before the blood hit the grass."
Before she could respond, the air was sliced by the whistle of an arrow.
It wasn't aimed at Kaelen. It was aimed at Elara.
In a split second, Elara's world slowed down. Her assassin instincts screamed at her to drop, to roll, to draw the hidden blade in her boot and return fire. She could see the fletching of the arrow, the way it spun through the air.
But she didn't move. She couldn't. If she dodged it with superhuman reflex, her mask would shatter.
Kaelen moved faster.
With a roar that was more wolf than man, he spun Elara behind him, his cloak billowing out like a wing. He caught the arrow mid-air with his bare hand, the wood snapping under his strength.
"Rogue wolves," Kaelen spat, his eyes turning a molten gold. "They've finally lost their patience."
From the shadows, half a dozen massive, scarred wolves emerged, their fur matted with dried blood. These weren't pack members; these were outcasts, driven mad by bloodlust.
"Ren! Sophia!" Kaelen barked.
The forest erupted into chaos. Ren reappeared behind one of the rogues, his daggers finding the soft tissue of the neck in a rhythmic, deadly dance. Sophia stood her ground, throwing handfuls of shimmering dust that caused the wolves to howl in agony as their lungs burned.
Kaelen drew his broadsword, but he didn't join the fray immediately. He stayed in front of Elara, guarding her with a ferocity that seemed almost... genuine.
"Stay behind me!" he commanded.
Elara crouched on the ground, covering her head and screaming in "terror." But through the gaps in her fingers, she was recording everything. She watched Kaelen's fighting style—he was a brute-force combatant, relying on overwhelming strength and speed. She saw the way Sophia's toxins worked, noting the color of the smoke and the reaction time of the victims.
And she saw an opening.
One of the rogue wolves, smaller and faster than the others, had circled around the outcrop. It lunged at Kaelen's exposed back while he was busy decapitating another foe.
Elara had a choice. Let him be bitten—perhaps even killed—and use the confusion to find the Moonstone. Or save him.
If she saved him, she gained his "trust." If she let him die, her shield was gone.
She reached into the mud, her hand closing around a jagged, heavy stone. It wasn't a dagger, but in her hands, it was just as lethal.
As the wolf leaped, Elara "tripped" forward with a cry of alarm. She threw the stone with a clumsy, panicked motion.
To a witness, it looked like a desperate fluke. In reality, the stone struck the wolf's temple with the force of a hammer, knocking it off course and sending it tumbling down the ridge.
Kaelen turned just in time to see the rogue wolf disappear into the ravine. He looked at the stone on the ground, then at Elara, who was sprawled in the dirt, sobbing hysterically.
The battle ended as quickly as it had begun. Ren stood over the carcasses, his blades dripping. Sophia walked over to Kaelen, checking him for wounds, her eyes darting suspiciously toward Elara.
"A lucky throw," Sophia hissed, her voice full of venom.
"Luck is a form of survival," Kaelen said. He walked over to Elara and hauled her up from the dirt. He didn't brush the mud off her face. He just stared at her, his golden eyes searching hers with an intensity that felt like it was stripping her soul bare.
"You saved me, little bird," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
"I... I just didn't want them to hurt you," Elara sobbed, burying her face in his chest.
Kaelen wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. Over her head, his eyes met Ren's. Ren shook his head slowly—he didn't believe the "lucky throw" for a second.
Kaelen leaned down, his lips brushing Elara's ear. "That was a very precise throw for someone who was 'shaking with fear'. We'll have to practice your aim when we get back."
Elara shivered. She had saved his life, but she had also sharpened his suspicion.
As they began the walk back to the fortress, Elara realized that the "distraction" Kaelen wanted was becoming more real than she had intended. He was using her to flush out his enemies, and she was using him to get to the stone.
But in the heat of the battle, when his blood had been pumping and his wolf had been roaring, she had felt something else. A spark. A dangerous, lethal temptation.
He knows I'm a lie, she thought, her fingers tightening on his arm. And he loves it.
The game was no longer about who was the hunter and who was the prey. They were both predators, circling each other in the dark, waiting for the first one to bleed.