The night stretched endlessly above, a sea of blackness that swallowed both moonlight and stars. For most mortals, it was a suffocating darkness in which even their own hands could not be seen before their faces. But King Ghidorah was no mortal beast.
The three-headed dragon's golden eyes gleamed like molten fire, each head swiveling independently as it scanned the frozen forest. To Ghidorah, the darkness was nothing. Its sharp, otherworldly vision pierced the black veil with ease, seeing clearly where humans would stumble blind.
Far in the distance, among the skeletal trees, figures prowled. The creatures were large—taller than any man, thicker than the strongest ox, and moving in coordinated packs. They were Icefield Wolves, beasts of the North that had roamed the frozen wilds since ancient times. Normally, they were apex predators here, their strength and numbers making them feared by all who crossed their path.
But not tonight.
Tonight, an intruder stood in their hunting grounds, a monster so vast and terrible that even their alpha's instincts screamed of danger.
The wolves lingered at the edges of the trees, hackles raised, lips curled back to reveal white fangs. Their glowing eyes fixed on Ghidorah, but none dared approach. Fear held them at bay. The ground itself seemed to tremble faintly beneath the dragon's shifting weight, and with every slow movement of its wings, the air howled as if the world itself recoiled.
The Alpha Wolf stood on a snow-swept ridge, muscles taut beneath its thick fur. Larger than the rest of its kind, nearly one-third greater in size, it exuded a primal authority. Yet even this creature, the strongest of its pack, could not mask the unease in its gaze. Its sharp eyes tracked Ghidorah relentlessly, unable to look away from the three-headed monstrosity that had intruded into its domain.
What the Alpha did not realize, however, was that the predator's gaze had already chosen it.
Ghidorah's central head lowered slightly, a slow hiss rumbling from deep in its throat. The dragon had marked its prey. The Alpha's bulk made it stand out from the others—it would be a worthy prize, a trophy that would please its master, Rayder.
The thought alone filled Ghidorah with cruel satisfaction. Without hesitation, the golden dragon unfurled its massive wings. The wingspan blotted out the stars, and with a single powerful beat, the creature lifted into the air, its colossal body rising like a nightmare against the night sky.
Snow burst upward in a blizzard as the dragon ascended, then angled itself toward the ridge.
The Alpha Wolf's ears twitched sharply. Its instincts screamed danger. With a thunderous howl that shattered the silence of the forest, it gave the order to retreat.
At once, the pack obeyed. Dozens of wolves turned as one and bolted into the forest, their massive bodies weaving between the trees like a living tide.
But Ghidorah was already upon them.
Its descent was like the fall of a storm.
The Alpha ran, its great paws tearing at the snow, but even as it fled, it knew the truth—there was no escaping what hunted it. This was not simply a larger predator. This was something else, something ancient and filled with an aura that pierced bone and blood. The fear it felt did not stem from Ghidorah's size or strength but from something deeper, an instinct buried in its very lineage.
It was a bloodline fear—the kind that no beast could defy. Somewhere in the distant past, creatures like Ghidorah had ruled, and the memory of their reign was etched into the marrow of the Alpha's ancestors. To resist was to invite annihilation.
Still, the Alpha did not falter. It turned, planting its paws in the snow, lips curling back in a snarl that revealed fangs like daggers. If death was inevitable, then it would meet it head-on.
Ghidorah descended with terrifying speed, faster than any lightning strike. The air screamed as its massive body cut downward, three mouths opening in unison, releasing a roar so powerful it rattled the very trees.
The wolves scattered in panic. Some ran into the depths of the forest, others froze in terror, and the slowest were not so lucky. Ghidorah's talons and tails lashed out like whips, snapping spines and scattering lifeless bodies across the snow.
The Alpha lunged forward, aiming for the dragon's throat. For a fleeting moment, its massive form seemed almost heroic—a lone beast challenging a god.
But reality was merciless.
Ghidorah's left head struck first, jaws snapping around the wolf's shoulder, crushing fur and flesh with bone-splintering force. The central head reared back, spewing forth a bolt of crackling energy that scorched the snow. The Alpha howled in agony, its body thrown to the ground.
It tried to rise again, tried to resist, but Ghidorah's colossal foot pinned it down. The dragon's weight crushed the earth beneath them. All around, the surviving wolves fled, their courage shattering.
Ghidorah's three heads arched high above, then released a combined roar, the sound echoing like a declaration of dominion across the frozen forest.
But in that moment of triumph, something unexpected stirred.
Pinned beneath the dragon's talons, the Alpha Wolf's eyes shifted. For just an instant, they gleamed not with animal instinct but with something far more unsettling—human-like intelligence.
Rayder arrived just in time to witness it.
From the shadows of the trees, he stepped forward, his cloak of fur billowing in the icy wind. His gaze swept over the carnage—the torn bodies of wolves, the golden dragon towering above them, and the Alpha still alive beneath its claws.
His eyes narrowed. Something about the wolf's gaze unsettled him.
The Alpha, bloodied and beaten, did not look away. Instead, its glowing eyes locked directly onto Rayder's. A faint growl rumbled from its throat, not of hatred but of… communication.
Then, astonishingly, the beast scraped its claws across the snow. Slowly, shakily, it carved out a word.
"Spare me."
Rayder froze. His heart skipped a beat.
He was a well-read man, knowledgeable in the old tales and secrets of the world. He knew of skinchangers and wargs, of the Children of the Forest and their ancient magics. But to see such a display in person, written in snow by the claw of a beast, was something else entirely.
He crouched low, his eyes never leaving the wolf's. "If I spare you," he said quietly, "what do I gain in return?"
The Alpha's claws scratched again, slower this time. Another word appeared in the snow.
"Friendship."
Rayder's lips curved into a cold smile. He shook his head. "Friendship? Do you truly think such a meager offer will save you?" His tone dripped with mockery.
Nearby, Ghidorah shifted eagerly, its middle head lowering, maw opening wide to reveal rows of jagged fangs. The dragon's hunger was palpable, its intent to end the wolf's life clear.
But the Alpha did not flinch. Its eyes blazed with defiance, even hatred.
Rayder studied those eyes carefully. And then it struck him. That gaze was no longer that of a mere beast. There was intelligence there, a mind beyond the flesh.
"You're no ordinary wolf," he muttered. His voice grew sharper. "You're a skinchanger. Someone is watching me through you, aren't they?"
The Alpha's body trembled. Its eyes flickered with unease. Rayder's words had struck truth.
And then, before his very eyes, the wolf began to change.
The massive body convulsed, fur retreating, limbs shrinking, features twisting. The form of the Icefield Wolf melted away, revealing a humanoid figure. Its skin was a deep chestnut brown, its ears long and pointed, its body shorter than a human's yet strangely graceful.
Rayder's eyes widened. "The Children of the Forest…"
The creature trembled before him. "I… I mean no harm," it said, its voice high-pitched and nervous.
Rayder's expression hardened. He did not lower his guard. "That is not for you to decide. Tell me—what is your name?"
The being hesitated, then bowed its head slightly. "My name is Rowan. The Seer… he wishes to meet you."
Rayder's brow furrowed. "The Seer? Why does he want to meet me?"
Rowan took a deep breath, gathering courage. "The Seer is… curious about you. He has watched from afar, but he wishes to see you in person."
Rayder's stomach tightened. To draw the attention of the Children of the Forest so soon after entering the North… it was not something he had expected. Nor something he welcomed.
His temper flared. "Where is he?" he demanded, his voice a roar that matched the dragon behind him.
Rowan flinched but quickly raised a hand, pointing toward the depths of the forest. "Follow me. I will take you to him."
And with that, the strange being turned and began to walk into the snow.
Rayder stood in silence for a moment, then glanced at Ghidorah. The dragon's three heads lowered, awaiting his command.
Rayder's eyes gleamed with cold fire. "Let's see what game this Seer is playing."
With a gesture, he followed Rowan into the shadows of the forest, Ghidorah stalking behind him like the wrath of a god.
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