Quote: "In the heart of darkness, even a flicker of hope can defy fate." — Khaimah Peter
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The forest stretched endlessly, shadows twisting like hungry specters.
Gravill's legs burned, lungs screaming as he ran, but the Forgotten Isle's pull grew sharper, more relentless. It wasn't just a destination anymore — it was a demand.
Elsa's grip on his wrist was iron-tight, dragging him through the undergrowth. Nicholas followed, glancing back every few seconds, magic crackling along his fingertips like static.
"Owen…" Nicholas rasped, his voice tight. "We shouldn't have left him."
Elsa didn't stop, her eyes blazing with determination. "He gave us a chance. Don't waste it."
Gravill's heart slammed against his ribs, guilt a crushing weight. Owen was fighting for them — bleeding for them. And they ran. Cowards. Survivors. He couldn't tell the difference anymore.
But before he could speak, the air shifted.
Nicholas skidded to a halt, hand snapping up. "Wait."
The forest had gone quiet. Unnaturally so. No rustling leaves. No chirping insects. Just silence.
Elsa unsheathed her dagger, eyes sharp. "We're being watched."
Gravill swallowed hard, his senses screaming. The shadows weren't just shadows — they breathed. Moved. Eyes flickered within them, golden and feral.
"We keep moving," Elsa whispered, voice taut. "If we stop, we die."
They didn't get a chance to run.
From the darkness, figures stepped forward — cloaked in black, their faces hidden beneath masks carved like skulls. The Hematoi.
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Meanwhile, at the Silverfang Pack's stronghold...
Lucien stared at the orb. The dimming glow pulsed weakly, like a dying heartbeat.
His hands curled into fists. Owen was dying.
He turned to the warriors gathered in the chamber, voice steady but edged with rage. "Arm yourselves. We ride now."
One of the younger wolves swallowed hard. "But the Alpha told us to stay—"
Lucien's eyes burned. "The Alpha isn't here. And if we don't get to him, there won't be an Alpha to return to."
The pack moved like a machine, weapons clanging as they prepared to track Owen's fading life force.
Lucien, staring once more at the fading orb, whispered under his breath:
"Hold on, Owen. Just hold on."
---
Deep underground…
From his obsidian throne, Hades leaned forward, fingers steepled beneath his chin. The void around him swirled, filled with the distant echoes of suffering souls.
He watched the trio, watched Owen bleed, watched Lucien ride out.
And he smiled.
"Run as far as you like," he murmured, voice a low rumble that reverberated through the darkness. "The Isle belongs to me."
His fingers twitched — and the shadows around the Hematoi stirred.
The hunt had only just begun.
Will they survive?????