The tunnel walls looked as if they were closing in as the creature's roar mixed with the sharp crack of the coming hunters' boots echoing behind. Drew's chest burned where its claws had grazed him, the wound sizzling under his torn shirt. The curse pulsed in time with his heartbeat, its whisper now a relentless chant that he could hear clearly in his head: *Blood calls to blood.* He didn't know what it meant and would not have cared less but right now it felt strangely like a noose tightening around his neck.
Elena fought at his side as if they had been long time partners before then, her dagger a blur as she parried the creature's snapping jaws that was meant for her face. Her movements were fluid, precise, like she'd been born to hunt things like this. But the beast wasn't slowing down, as its shadowy form shrugged off every blow. Drew's claws raked its side, drawing more of that black, viscous blood, but it only seemed to enrage it further. They could say, they were merely tearing it parts like one tears a cloth but with no harm enough to weaken it.
"We can't keep this up!" Elena shouted, dodging a swipe from the creature that shattered a pipe, spraying water across the tunnel floor. Her green eyes met Drew's, fierce but strained. "It's not dying!" She spoke again.
Drew grunted, not from pain but from strain from his inside; his vision was now flickering red as the curse urged him to let go, to become the monster it wanted. He forced it down, focusing on her voice, her scent—wildflowers and steel, grounding him and reminding him to hold on for a while. "Keep it distracted," he said, his voice rough. "I'll find a way to trap it."
He looked round the tunnel, catching a rusted valve jutting from the wall in sight. If he were to collapse the ceiling, it might buy them time which was what they solely needed at the moment. But that also meant leaving Elena to face the creature alone which had a hundred percent chance of her dying. His gut twisted at the thought, and not because she was their best shot at survival. Something about her pulled at his inner self, something deeper than the curse, and it scared him more than the beast which they could actually run away from.
The hunters who seemed to be far now, felt close with their voices growing louder, orders being barked, and weapons clicking. They were close, and getting too close. Drew's ears caught a name within the voices that were now constant: *Voss*. Elena's flinch confirmed it was her team, and they weren't here to negotiate or take anyone back home.
"Drew!" Rhona's voice crackled through the comms, faint but urgent. "Lena's fading. We have arrived at the docks, but… Matthias is gone."
"Gone?" Drew's blood ran cold. Not again. Matthias's disappearance wasn't cowardice—it was calculated that was for sure. They had been on other missions before and never had he been about something else apart from escaping. But now there was that tainted scent, his cryptic words about the creature, Lena's fear… it all pointed to betrayal. "Hold the safehouse, Rhona. We're coming."
He turned to Elena, who was holding her own against the creature, her dagger lodged in its shoulder. Maybe he did underestimate her prowess. Now he clearly knew what to do. "We need to move," he said, lunging towards the valve. He twisted it hard, hard enough for the ancient metal to groan as water surged through the pipes, cracking the tunnel's ceiling. Dust and stone rained down, and the creature roared, as it was momentarily pinned by falling debris.
"Let's go!" said Drew as he grabbed Elena's arm, pulling her toward the dockside path. She didn't resist, but her eyes lingered on the creature, as if she sensed something he didn't while she hoped for a better outcome.
They sprinted through the tunnel, the roar of the creature slowly fading but the hunters' footsteps growing louder. Elena's breathing was steady, her focus razor-sharp, observed Drew but he caught a flicker of doubt in her expression. "What aren't you telling me?" he demanded, slowing just enough to meet her gaze.
She hesitated, her lips parting, then closing. "Later," she said, her voice tight as they ran. "If we survive."
They burst out of the tunnel into the salty air of Ironhaven's docks, the abandoned warehouse looming ahead just as Elena had indicated to them. Rhona and Lena were inside as they had said they would be, the omega curled in a corner, her face pale as she clutched her last vial. Rhona stood guard, her claws out, her eyes blazing with distrust as Drew and Elena stumbled in.
"You brought *her*?" Rhona snapped, pointing at Elena. "After everything we just faced?"
"She saved my life," Drew said, signaling his tone final. "We're alive because of her."
Lena looked up from where she was on the ground, her voice trembling and said. "Matthias… he said… I was special. That the creature wanted *me*." Her eyes darted to Drew, wide with fear. "What's happening to us?"
Drew knelt beside her, his heart feeling heavy. "I don't know, pup. But I'll find out." He glanced at Rhona, who handed him a tattered journal—part of the pack's scavenged lore that they carry around as if it was a bible. "You said this mentioned a prophecy. Read it," she said as if to remind him.
Rhona's jaw tightened, but she opened the journal to a particular while it was in his hands, her finger tracing faded ink. "'The cursed alpha will rise, bound by blood to the first. He will break the chains or forge them anew.' It's old, Drew. Older than the Council. Don't you think so?"
The curse surged, its whisper now more than just voices, now it was like a scream: *Bound by blood.* Drew's vision swam, and he staggered, catching himself as he rested on the wall. Elena's hand grazed his arm, steadying him, and for a moment, the chaos quieted. Her touch was a lifeline, but it raised more questions than answers at this moment.
Before he could speak, the warehouse windows around shattered. Hunters in their full glory swarmed in, their silver weapons gleaming. At their center stood a figure in black, her voice cold and familiar to Elena alone. "Elena," she said, stepping forward. "You've gone rogue."
Elena's dagger trembled in her hand for the first time throughout this their ordeal, as she tried to face this woman—her former leader—without flinching. "You're wrong, Voss," she said. "I'm not the traitor here."
Drew's curse roared, hammering inside his head as it sensed the blood about to spill. And somewhere close-by, right in the shadows of the docks, Matthias watched, waiting.