The morning after the battle came too soon. The village awoke under a veil of unease, the air heavy as though the forest itself watched them with unseen eyes. Smoke rose from the hunters' huts, the smell of cooking venison drifting faintly, but it could not mask the tension that clung to the square like a shroud.
Aiden walked through the dirt paths with every step weighed by the stares that followed him. Children peered from behind doorframes, their mothers pulling them back with hurried whispers. Hunters leaned against their spears, their eyes sharp and unwelcoming.
Where once he had been a boy they called by name, now he was the cursed one.
The night replayed in his mind like an unbroken chain: claws, blood, hunger, and the voice of Elder Harren thundering against him. He had fought back the beast within, yet all the village seemed to see was how close he had come to losing himself.
And perhaps… they weren't wrong.
The scent of blood still lingered on his tongue, a phantom taste that made his throat dry. Every heartbeat carried with it the whisper of hunger, soft but insistent, like a drum waiting to be struck again.
He clenched his fists, forcing his nails into his palms until pain replaced the craving.
"Control it," he muttered to himself. "You have to control it."
---
At the well, Miriam was waiting. She stood tall despite her years, her staff resting lightly against the ground. Her eyes, sharp as flint, softened only when they settled on him.
"You didn't eat this morning," she said quietly.
"I wasn't hungry," Aiden lied.
Her lips tightened into something between pity and reproach. "Lies like that won't save you, boy. Sit."
He obeyed, sinking onto the wooden bench beside the well. Miriam drew a faint circle on the ground with her staff, runes etching themselves in the dirt with a faint glow. Aiden felt a ripple pass over his skin, like cold water washing through his veins.
"What is this?" he asked.
"A seal of calm," she murmured. "It won't cure you. But it may still your blood long enough to listen without the hunger screaming in your ears."
Aiden exhaled slowly. For the first time since the battle, the whispers inside him dulled, though they did not vanish. It was like being in a room where the beast still clawed at the door, but the door was muffled, distant.
Miriam's eyes studied him. "Tell me, Aiden. When you were over that wolf… why didn't you finish it?"
The question sank into him like a blade.
He remembered the Alpha's throat beneath his teeth, the intoxicating pulse of its blood. He remembered how close he had been to giving in.
"Because… because I'm not just a beast," he said finally. His voice was rough, as if the words themselves were jagged. "Because if I gave in then… I wouldn't come back."
Miriam's silence stretched, heavy but not condemning. At last she nodded. "Good. You understand. That is the first step."
"The first step to what?"
"To walking the razor's edge you've been cursed with," she said. "There are only two paths ahead of you. Either you master the hunger, or it masters you. There is no third choice."
---
The council met that night. Aiden was not allowed inside, but whispers carried easily in the small village. He sat outside the hall, fists clenched, hearing the voices raised within.
"He's dangerous! We can't keep him here!"
"He saved us all, Elder. Don't twist it!"
"And what happens when he doesn't stop? When the beast wins? Do you want to bury your children because you were blind with pity?"
Every word dug deeper into Aiden's chest. He wanted to shout back, to tell them he was still fighting, but what if they were right? What if Harren was right?
When the doors opened, the villagers spilled out, some casting him fearful glances, others avoiding his eyes altogether. Miriam touched his shoulder as she passed. "Do not let their fear bind you, Aiden. Fear is loud, but it is not always truth."
But the echo of Harren's words stayed with him: For now.
---
That night, sleep eluded him. He sat at the forest's edge again, staring into the Blackwood. The Alpha's growl lingered in his memory, the strange recognition in its eye before it vanished into the shadows.
He wondered if he had spared it… or if it had spared him.
The forest rustled, alive with the cries of unseen beasts. Somewhere deeper within, a howl split the silence—a howl too deep, too resonant to belong to any ordinary dire wolf.
His blood went cold.
That was no Rank 5.
The hunger inside him stirred at once, thrilled, hungry, as though it knew what stalked the forest beyond.
Rank 6.
A predator strong enough to shake the balance.
And if it came for the village…
Aiden's hands curled into trembling fists.
Could he face it? Could he fight without losing control?
Or would the beast within finally get its chance to break free?
The forest whispered its promise of blood. And the night stretched long, heavy with the weight of what was coming.
---