Morning arrived faster than I had anticipated. The cave was eerily silent as I prepared for the journey ahead. My mind had been restless through the night, turning over fears and possibilities. Lycandor wasn't just an enemy city—it was a trap waiting to spring.
I donned the plain, worn clothes I had set aside, making sure nothing about me stood out. Concealed in my boot was a small dagger, my only lifeline if everything went wrong. I adjusted my jacket, ensuring the weapon remained hidden but accessible.
The corridor outside my room felt colder than usual, though the chill wasn't from the air. The few people I passed averted their eyes or offered silent nods of acknowledgment. They knew where I was headed and the risks involved.
At the entrance, Einar stood waiting, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the faint light of dawn. His hands clutched a small scroll, which I assumed contained the "contingency plan" he had mentioned the night before.
---
**Einar's Final Words**
"Sigrid," he began, his voice heavy with guilt, "I hate that it has come to this."
I forced a calm smile, though my chest felt tight. "This isn't on you, Einar. You've done everything you could."
He studied my face, searching for hesitation. "Are you certain about this?"
I nodded firmly. "If this is the way to get close to Fenrir, then yes. I have to do it."
Einar exhaled slowly, his eyes filled with both respect and sadness. "You carry more than just your revenge, Sigrid. Remember that. Be careful, and don't act recklessly."
"I understand," I replied, though the weight of his words pressed harder than I wanted to admit.
He handed me the scroll. "This map will guide you if things don't go as planned. Use it to find your way out if necessary."
I tucked the scroll into my jacket, feeling its rough texture against my fingers.
"And one more thing," he added, his voice lowering. "Don't let them sense your fear. Werewolves can smell weakness—it will be your end."
"I'll remember," I said, meeting his gaze with as much determination as I could muster.
---
**Journey to the Collection Site**
The forest greeted me with its usual wildness. Thick branches clawed at the sky, and the underbrush seemed intent on slowing my every step. The path Einar had outlined in my mind was faint, winding through the densest parts of the woods.
Each sound—a rustling leaf, a snapping twig—set my nerves on edge. The usual serenity of the forest felt sinister now, as if unseen eyes were watching.
Hours passed before I reached a small hill overlooking the collection site. From its crest, I could see the clearing below. Crude tents and smoldering campfires dotted the space, surrounded by towering trees. Werewolves in human form moved between the tents, their presence heavy and foreboding.
---
**Blending In**
I crouched behind a thicket, observing the scene below. Human women, some trembling and others eerily still, huddled in groups near the center of the clearing. Their fear was palpable, even from this distance.
My heartbeat quickened as I formulated a plan. I waited for a guard to turn his back before slipping quietly into the group of women. The movement was seamless, unnoticed by the werewolves patrolling nearby.
A woman with matted hair and hollow eyes turned to me. "You were captured too?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
I nodded, offering no further explanation.
Moments later, a tall man emerged from one of the larger tents. His dark hair and commanding presence made him impossible to miss. His simple black clothing did nothing to diminish the aura of authority radiating from him.
"That's Kael," the woman beside me murmured, barely audible.
Kael's piercing gaze swept over the group, lingering on each face as if committing them to memory. "You are here by the Alpha's decree," he said, his voice steady and cold. "You will be taken to Lycandor for the mate selection. Obey, and you will survive. Resist, and you won't."
---
The guards moved quickly, dividing us into smaller groups and binding our hands with coarse ropes. When a guard reached me, I held my breath, keeping my gaze downcast.
"Don't move," he barked, yanking the rope tight around my wrists.
I bit back a wince, nodding silently.
Minutes later, we were herded toward a large wooden cart. The horses hitched to it were massive, their black coats gleaming in the fading light. I climbed in with the others, finding a corner where I could sit unnoticed.
As the cart lurched forward, the clearing faded from view, replaced by the dense forest. I stared out at the passing trees, my mind racing.
---
**Inside the Cart**
The cart was silent except for the faint creak of wood and the occasional sniffling of the women around me. My hands, though bound, clenched into fists. Fear threatened to consume me, but I forced it down.
"I have to do this," I whispered to myself. "It's the only way."
The ride to Lycandor felt endless. Every turn of the wheels brought me closer to the enemy's stronghold—to Fenrir's domain.
---
**The Chapter Ends**
The cart pressed deeper into the forest, the trees growing darker and denser with each passing mile. Lycandor was near.
As the shadows closed in, so did my resolve. "Fenrir," I thought, my jaw tightening. "This is just the beginning. I will find you. And I will make you pay."