A Hunter's Mark
The howls echoed through the night, piercing the stillness of the forest beyond the walls of the ruined house. Lyra froze, her senses tingling with a primal awareness. Her eyes darted to Torin, who had heard it too. The look in his eyes was a storm brewing—darker, fiercer than anything she had ever seen in him before.
"What was that?" Lyra's voice was barely above a whisper, fear creeping into her chest like a cold fog.
Torin's jaw clenched as he stepped closer, his hand brushing the air between them. His warmth was a comfort, but it did little to soothe the gnawing dread that had taken root in her stomach. "That wasn't just any howl," he said, his tone grim. "It was a challenge. Raegar is rallying his pack. He's not done with us yet."
The words hung in the air like a death sentence.
Lyra's heart thudded in her chest, her pulse pounding in her ears. Raegar—the man who had tormented her for years, the one who had stolen her freedom—wasn't giving up. He was preparing for war. But with what army? And what was Torin's plan?
Before she could voice her concerns, Torin's sharp gaze swept over her, his lips curling into something between a smirk and a snarl. "Get ready. We leave now."
Her breath caught in her throat. "What? You want to run?" The very idea made her stomach twist. She had been running from Raegar for far too long. Hadn't she just found a shred of hope in Torin's presence? She wasn't ready to abandon it.
Torin met her gaze, his eyes fierce, but his words were measured. "No, Lyra. We aren't running. But we need to move quickly. If Raegar is coming with full force, we won't stand a chance if we don't prepare."
Lyra's breath caught. The tension between them was palpable, but she could feel it—the ancient bond between them pulling her toward him. She had always trusted him, but now? Now, everything was different. The man who had once been her protector had returned as a king, and Lyra wasn't sure if she was ready for the power he wielded.
But there was no turning back. Not now.
Torin grabbed her arm gently but firmly, guiding her toward the doorway. The night air outside was crisp, the wind sharp against her skin as they moved into the darkened forest. The trees loomed like sentinels, their skeletal branches stretching toward the sky, blocking out the moonlight.
"Where are we going?" Lyra asked, her voice quiet, trying to keep the fear from breaking through.
Torin's face remained unreadable as he turned his gaze to her, his footsteps never faltering. "We need to reach the border. There's a pack close by that owes me allegiance. They'll help us fight back."
"Are they trustworthy?" Lyra's voice cracked slightly as she asked the question. She had seen enough betrayal in her life to be cautious. Every new alliance felt like a risk.
Torin paused for a moment, the faintest flicker of uncertainty in his eyes before he masked it again with a hardened resolve. "They're loyal. But loyalty in this world is fragile, Lyra. It's a fine line between allies and enemies. We can only hope that their allegiance hasn't waned."
Lyra nodded, her heart sinking. She didn't know how long she could trust the word of anyone, least of all a pack Torin had not seen in years. But her instinct told her that Torin, for all his flaws and scars, was still the man who would never let her down. Not again.
As they moved deeper into the woods, the scent of pine and earth mingled with the sharp bite of adrenaline in the air. Lyra's mind raced, her thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. Raegar—how could he come for her again after everything? She had spent so long believing that his influence over her life had been broken, but now she realized that it was still there, lurking in the shadows. And Torin? Was he truly ready to take back what he had lost? To reclaim the kingdom that had been stolen from him?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a rustle in the trees ahead. Torin immediately crouched low, his hand pulling Lyra close to him. The sudden movement was a silent command, and Lyra, instinctively, obeyed. The forest grew quiet, the sounds of distant howling fading into an eerie silence.
"Stay behind me," Torin whispered, his voice a low growl. He was the predator now, and the way he moved through the underbrush was graceful, and lethal. His eyes flicked over the darkened trees, narrowing as if searching for the source of the noise.
Lyra pressed herself against the trunk of a nearby tree, her breathing shallow as she waited. The night stretched out like a living thing, every shadow seeming to pulse with a life of its own.
Suddenly, from the darkness, a figure emerged. It was fast, too fast. Torin barely had time to react before the figure lunged, a blur of motion that sent them crashing to the ground. Lyra gasped, but before she could move, the figure was pinned under Torin's knee, struggling violently.
It was a man—a Lycan, dressed in tattered clothing, his eyes wild with desperation. His movements were frantic, but Torin's strength overpowered him effortlessly.
"Who are you?" Torin demanded, his voice as cold as steel.
The man gritted his teeth, his eyes flickering to Lyra for just a moment before he spat on the ground. "I was sent by Raegar. He's coming for you," the man hissed. "He wants her. Dead or alive."
Lyra's stomach twisted at the words. Raegar had sent this man? His hatred for her, for Torin, was deeper than she had thought. He wouldn't stop until he had torn everything apart.
Torin's gaze darkened, his grip tightening around the man's throat. "Tell me, how many more are there? How many of Raegar's dogs are out there hunting us?"
The man's eyes widened in fear. "I'm just a scout," he rasped. "But he's gathering his forces. His pack… they'll come for you, soon. You have to run."
Torin's lips curled into a grim smile. "I'm not running from him anymore."
The man's eyes flickered with something between fear and resignation, but Torin didn't hesitate. With a swift motion, he snapped the man's neck. The figure fell limp in his grasp, his body dropping to the forest floor with a dull thud.
Lyra's heart pounded in her chest as she watched the life leave the scout's eyes. She had never seen Torin like this before—cold, merciless. The power he had once used to protect her was now being used to destroy.
And yet, she felt no fear.
"Come," Torin said, turning away from the fallen body. "We need to keep moving."
As they continued deeper into the forest, the weight of their mission pressed down on Lyra's shoulders. But the growing feeling inside her, that something terrible was coming, couldn't be shaken. Raegar was only the beginning. The storm had already started—and it would tear everything apart before it was done.
But would Lyra survive the storm this time?
The sound of more footsteps reached Lyra's ears. More Lycans. Their scent, sharp and unmistakable, reached her nose. She turned to Torin, her heart skipping a beat.
"They're here," she whispered. "They've found us."
And in the distance, under the pale light of the moon, dark figures emerged from the trees, their eyes glowing with an unnatural hunger.