Soren's words sent a shiver down Rain's spine.
"They're coming."
Rain's grip on Soren's shoulders tightened, his pulse hammering in his ears. The weight of those two words was enough to drown out everything else—the fading embers of the campfire, the scent of damp earth, even Nathaniel's presence looming behind him.
"Who?" Rain demanded, his voice low but sharp.
Soren struggled to sit up, his breath ragged. His clothes were torn, blood staining the fabric. "They call themselves the Crimson Fang aka Luna's Wrath," he rasped. "Rogues, but…organized. Not like the ones we've fought before."
Nathaniel crouched beside them, his gaze dark with calculation. "How many?"
Soren swallowed hard. "Too many." His fingers clenched into fists. "They ambushed us at night. I tried to hold them off, but they had numbers—and a leader. Someone… different."
Rain's stomach twisted. "A leader?"
Soren nodded, his silver eyes flickering with unease. "They knew about you, Rain." His gaze shifted to Nathaniel. "About both of you."
Nathaniel's jaw clenched. "They were waiting."
The realization sent a pulse of unease through Rain. This wasn't random.
Nathaniel stood abruptly, his powerful frame tense. "We move. Now."
Alec and Ace were already scanning the surroundings, their expressions grim.
Rain helped Soren to his feet. "Can you walk?"
Soren gave a weak smirk. "I'm not that broken."
Rain didn't let go.
Nathaniel turned to Alec. "Take Soren back to the estate. Make sure he's guarded."
Alec hesitated, glancing at Rain before nodding. "Understood."
Soren scowled. "I'm not leaving."
"You're injured," Nathaniel said coolly. "You'll slow us down."
Soren opened his mouth to argue, but Rain cut him off with a squeeze on his arm. "Go, Soren. You've done enough."
Soren's eyes burned with frustration, but he relented. "Be careful."
Rain turned back to Nathaniel. "What now?"
Nathaniel's lips curved slightly. "We hunt."
They moved swiftly, following the faint traces of the rogues' presence. The forest stretched before them, the scent of blood and wolves lingering in the damp morning air.
Rain's senses were sharp, heightened by the tension coiling in his chest. Beside him, Nathaniel was silent, his steps purposeful.
It was strange, this uneasy alliance. They were enemies. Bound by a bond neither of them had chosen, yet somehow, fighting side by side.
Rain didn't know how to feel about it.
"You're too quiet," Nathaniel murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Rain glanced at him. "Maybe I have nothing to say."
Nathaniel smirked. "Doubtful."
Rain rolled his eyes. "Shouldn't we be focusing on not dying?"
Nathaniel chuckled. "Oh, Rain. You should know by now—danger excites me."
Rain scowled, but his heart did a traitorous flip.
The tension between them was growing—thick, heavy, impossible to ignore. It wasn't just the looming battle. It was them. The way Nathaniel moved too close, the way his voice curled around Rain's name like something possessive.
It was infuriating.
It was addictive.
A sudden sound—snapping branches.
Both of them stilled.
Nathaniel's hand brushed Rain's wrist, a silent warning.
Then, from the shadows, figures emerged.
Crimson Fang.
Dozens of them.
Rain inhaled sharply, already shifting his stance. They were surrounded.
And in the center of the pack stood a man—a wolf—different from the others.
Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark eyes that gleamed with amusement.
"Welcome," the man said smoothly, his voice rich with mockery. "We've been expecting you."
Nathaniel's smirk sharpened.
"Good," the Alpha King murmured.
"Then let's not disappoint you."
To be continued…