The howl still echoed in Ryan's ears long after it faded.
It wasn't just a sound — it was a message.
He sat frozen on the edge of his bed, his hands clenched into fists. Outside, the campus was eerily quiet, the streetlamps casting long shadows across the damp pavement. Somewhere, a motorcycle revved and then faded into the distance.
But beneath it all, Ryan could feel it — the faint tug in his chest, like an invisible thread pulling him toward something.
The mark on his arm pulsed again, not painfully this time, but insistently, like a heartbeat that didn't belong to him.
A chime echoed in his head.
[Alpha Protocol – Tier 1 Activated.]
[Tracking Feature Online.]
Before he could ask what that meant, a faint golden line appeared in his vision, pointing toward the north side of campus.
Ryan's gut twisted. "Not again…"
He grabbed his jacket and slipped out into the night.
The air was colder than before, laced with the scent of rain and something metallic. Ryan kept to the shadows, following the glowing line only he could see. Every step felt heavier — not from exhaustion, but from the weight of not knowing what he was walking into.
He passed the library, its windows dark. The student union building, empty except for a vending machine humming in the corner. Then the path curved toward the old science wing — the same building where the fight had happened only hours ago.
His steps slowed. The sprinklers had doused the flames, but the scent of burnt chemicals lingered in the air. The broken window gaped open like a wound in the building's face.
Ryan's ears twitched at the faintest sound. Footsteps. Soft, deliberate. Not human.
He moved inside, every sense sharp.
[Target in proximity: 20 meters.]
Ryan's claws slid out before he even thought about it. His breathing slowed, his body lowering into a stance that felt far too natural.
Something shifted in the shadows ahead.
Then he saw them — two glowing eyes, lower to the ground than a human's, fixed on him with predatory stillness.
The creature stepped into the light.
It wasn't the rogue from earlier. This one was smaller, leaner, its fur the color of ash, with streaks of black running along its spine. But its teeth — too long for its mouth — forced its lips into a permanent snarl.
It tilted its head at him, sniffing the air.
"You're not supposed to be here," Ryan said quietly.
The creature didn't answer. It lunged.
Ryan sidestepped, his claws slicing the air, but the wolf-thing twisted mid-leap and landed behind him. Its speed was unreal — faster than the rogue, almost a blur.
[Caution: Adversary exhibits enhanced agility.]
"No kidding!" Ryan muttered, spinning just in time to block another strike. Claws met claws, sparks flying as they scraped across the metal frame of a broken desk.
The fight spilled into the hallway, their movements a blur of speed and violence. Ryan slammed the creature into a locker, but it kicked off the wall and launched itself at his throat. He dropped, sweeping its legs, but it rolled and sprang back to its feet in a single motion.
Every muscle in Ryan's body burned, but the mark kept urging him forward — don't stop, don't slow, strike now.
Then, in a flash, the creature changed tactics. It darted toward the exit.
Ryan bolted after it, his claws digging into the tile for traction. They burst out into the night, the cold air slamming into Ryan's lungs.
The creature was fast, weaving between buildings, vaulting fences like they were nothing. Ryan followed, his speed matching it more than he thought possible. His feet barely touched the ground, the world rushing past in streaks of shadow and light.
They tore through the campus edge and into the woods beyond. The scent of wet earth filled Ryan's senses, the wind roaring in his ears. Branches snapped, leaves scattered, and still the creature ran.
Then, just as Ryan was closing the distance, it stopped.
Not from exhaustion. Not from fear.
It stopped because something else was there.
From the trees ahead, another shape emerged — taller, broader, with fur as white as snow under moonlight. Its eyes glowed a deep, burning crimson.
The smaller creature dropped to one knee instantly, head lowered.
Ryan's stomach knotted. Whoever this was, they weren't just another rogue. This one was in charge.
The white-furred figure stepped forward, his voice deep, smooth, but carrying a weight that pressed against Ryan's chest.
"So… the Moon finally makes its move," he said, almost to himself. His gaze swept over Ryan like a predator assessing prey. "And this… this is what it chooses?"
Ryan's claws flexed. "Who the hell are you?"
The figure's mouth curved, not in warmth, but in the satisfaction of someone who's waited years for this moment.
"They call me Vaelrion. Once, I led the largest pack this side of the mountains. Once, my name alone kept rogues in their holes. I should have been the Moon's chosen. I should have carried the mark you bear."
Ryan's jaw tightened. "Too bad for you, it's mine."
A low chuckle rumbled from Vaelrion's chest, but there was no amusement in it — only bitterness. "Oh, pup… you think you earned it? That mark was given, not won. You have no idea of the blood it takes to rule."
Ryan took a step forward. "Then maybe you can show me."
Vaelrion's crimson eyes burned hotter. "Not yet. You're still… unfinished. But I will finish you — one way or another."
Before Ryan could move, Vaelrion lifted a clawed hand. The smaller wolf sprang up and slashed at Ryan's chest.
Pain ripped through him, white-hot and blinding. He staggered back, his vision swimming.
When he looked up, the two figures were already melting into the darkness between the trees.
[Damage sustained: Non-fatal.]
[Recommendation: Withdraw and recover.]
Ryan pressed a hand to his chest. The wound was already closing, sealing faster than any human injury should. But the sting of it wasn't just in his flesh — it was in his pride.
Vaelrion had let him live. On purpose.
As Ryan stumbled back toward campus, the forest whispered behind him. The mark pulsed one last time, and a new message flashed in his vision:
[Quest Updated: The Hunt Begins.]
[Objective: Identify Vaelrion's pack and intentions before the next Blood Moon.]
[Timeframe: 20 Days.]
Ryan's breathing slowed, but the weight in his chest didn't lift.
Whatever Vaelrion wanted, it wasn't just a fight.
It was a game.
And Ryan had just been marked as the prey.