The air burned with smoke. Wolves thundered across the courtyard, their howls rising in unison as the gates were thrown open. I shifted, bones cracking, fur tearing through skin, the beast inside me surging to the surface. My claws struck the earth with fire in my veins.
Ronan's voice roared above the chaos, commanding, unyielding. "Protect the border! None of them breach the line!"
I ran with the others, my paws pounding the dirt, the night sky shattered by lightning. The smell of blood already hung in the air. Raiders, feral and hungry, waited beyond the ridge.
But the System was louder than the storm.
Remember the objective. Kill Liora. Save Ronan.
Every muscle in me screamed to obey, but when I glanced back, Ronan was there, his golden eyes sharp, his black wolf towering like a king of shadows. He ran beside his men, power thrumming from his very body. My heart twisted.
If he fell because of me, I would never forgive myself.
---
We hit the border like a wave. Wolves collided with wolves, teeth sinking into flesh, claws rending fur. The night filled with snarls, the crunch of bones, the screams of dying men.
I tore through the first raider that leapt for me, blood spraying warm across my fur. Another lunged, and I met him with claws to the throat, his body dropping limp.
Ronan was ahead, his wolf a blur of lethal grace. Every strike of his claws left bodies broken. His dominance filled the battlefield like a storm, commanding fear even in the enemy.
But then, out of the corner of my eye—I saw her.
Liora.
Not in wolf form, but standing back near the treeline, untouched, her green cloak gleaming in the moonlight. Watching.
And smiling.
Now, the System hissed. Strike. Kill her before the tide turns.
I lunged forward, fury sparking, but a raider slammed into me, knocking me to the ground. His claws ripped across my flank. Pain seared, and I snapped his neck with a savage twist.
When I looked back—Liora was gone.
My heart raced. She wasn't fighting. She wasn't defending the pack. She was… orchestrating something.
Then came the first twist.
A horn split the air—not the raiders', but ours. From the western woods, more wolves poured in. Not ours. Not theirs.
A third force.
I froze, blood dripping from my claws. The wolves that surged from the trees bore no crest, no banner. Their eyes burned red, their fur streaked with scars. Rogues. Dozens of them. No, hundreds.
"Traitors!" Ronan's roar cut through the battle. His wolf turned, fangs bared. "Hold the line!"
But the line was already breaking. Our warriors faltered, torn between two fronts. Raiders and rogues closed in like jaws snapping shut.
I felt it then, a pulse in my skull. The System hummed with satisfaction.
Her hand guides them. End her now before it is too late.
Liora. She had summoned them.
I spun, searching, but the battlefield blurred with fur, blood, and fire. Every shadow seemed to hide her smile.
---
I fought harder, my claws slick with blood, my lungs burning. I tore down raiders, ripped rogues from our flank, my body moving on pure instinct. But every heartbeat, I felt the pull of her somewhere, threading this chaos like a spider weaving its web.
Ronan's wolf roared nearby, tearing down three rogues at once, his golden eyes blazing through the storm. He fought like the Alpha he was, unyielding, indomitable.
But even he couldn't fight both armies forever.
Then the System's voice grew sharper, cold as steel.
You hesitate. He dies for your weakness.
"No," I snarled through my wolf's throat.
Then act.
---
The battle raged on, blood soaking the earth. My body screamed, but I pushed forward, cutting through the chaos, hunting her.
And then—I saw her again.
Liora stood on a ridge above the battlefield, cloaked in shadow. Her eyes glowed faint green, her hands raised. And the rogues… they responded. They moved like pieces on her board.
She was controlling them.
Not just summoning. Controlling.
A witch.
The revelation burned through me like fire. My breath caught, even in wolf form. She wasn't just a manipulator of men's hearts. She wielded something older, darker. Magic.
The first twist hit me fully now: Liora wasn't merely a rival. She was the reason the rogues grew bolder, the reason the System marked her for death. She wasn't prey. She was the hidden predator.
---
I charged up the ridge, claws digging into the mud, my eyes locked on her. Her lips curled in a cruel smile as she saw me coming.
"You're late," she whispered, though her voice carried in my head like a curse. "The Alpha will fall, and his throne will be mine."
I lunged, claws outstretched.
But before I reached her, the ground split.
A snarl erupted from below as a rogue wolf, massive and scarred, barreled into me. We collided, rolling down the slope in a whirl of blood and teeth. His jaws clamped around my shoulder, pain searing like fire. I clawed at his face, ripping chunks of fur, but he didn't falter.
The System screamed.
Failure imminent. Ronan in danger.
My heart lurched. I snapped the rogue's neck with a final desperate strike, his body collapsing atop me. I shoved him off and scrambled up, panting, blood soaking my fur.
When I looked back—Liora was gone again.
But worse… so was Ronan.
---
Panic clawed at me. I shoved through the battlefield, searching, calling, but his golden eyes were nowhere.
Then, over the noise, a sound cut through—the roar of a beast in agony.
Ronan.
I sprinted toward it, my chest burning, my legs heavy with blood loss. I broke through the throng just in time to see him—his wolf staggering, blood pouring from a wound across his side. Three rogues had him pinned, their teeth sinking deeper into his flesh.
"No!" I screamed, my wolf's howl tearing through the night.
I flung myself into them, claws ripping, teeth snapping. I tore two down, blood splattering my muzzle. The third released Ronan only to turn on me, his jaws clamping around my leg. I shrieked in pain, ripping free, leaving a trail of blood in the dirt.
Ronan collapsed, his golden eyes dimming.
The System's voice came again, colder than ever.
Final chance. Kill her, or he dies.
---
And then came the second twist—the cliffhanger.
Because in that moment, through the chaos, I finally saw her again.
Liora stood on the ridge once more, but not alone.
She held something in her hands.
No—someone.
A child. Small, terrified, struggling against her grip. His eyes wide and golden.
Ronan's son.
My blood turned to ice.
The System purred in my mind, its voice smooth as silk.
New objective confirmed: Kill the witch or the child dies.
The battlefield fell away. My claws shook.
Ronan's son. Alive. Hidden. And now, in her hands.
I looked down at Ronan, broken and bleeding. I looked up at Liora, her smile sharp as a blade.
And I knew.
The true war hadn't even begun.