Victor's thumb stroked the collar's hinge, metal clicking like a ticking watch.
Fireflies froze mid-blink.
Kade's claws slid out silent, moonlight running along the curve.
Lily's heartbeat filled her ears, one drum for each red eye watching from the trees.
She counted seven—no, eight—figures closing the circle, faces pale, veins glowing crimson beneath skin.
Not human. Not wolf. Something between, and hungry.
Victor tilted the collar. "Silver-laced, inside and out. One snap, the neck learns obedience."
Finn's small hand found Lily's ankle, fingers ice-cold.
Daisy pressed into her other side, breath hitching.
Lily stepped forward, rifle still slung useless across her back—too many bodies, too close.
Kade matched the step, shoulder brushing hers. "Circle's tight. Break east when I move."
She gave the smallest nod.
Victor's smile widened. "Planning already? Memories fade fast in the snow, don't they?"
He flicked the collar toward Kade. "You first. On your knees."
Kade didn't bend. "Come put it on me."
Victor chuckled, nodded to the nearest red-eye.
The man lunged—bare feet silent on moss.
Kade pivoted, claws slicing across a forearm. Skin parted; no blood spilled, only thin red vapor hissing into night air.
The man hissed, struck back—fist cracking Kade's ribs.
Kade staggered, retaliated with an uppercut that lifted the attacker off his feet. Still no blood.
More closed.
Lily used the seconds—hand sliding into her pocket, fingers closing around the flare canister she'd taken from the truck.
She popped the cap, rolled it behind her toward the twins, whispered, "Cover eyes."
Bright red fire whooshed, sparks spiraling.
Circle flinched, arms shielding faces.
Lily grabbed both pups, sprinted east between two startled red-eyes.
A hand snagged her braid—jerked her backward.
She spun, driving her elbow into a throat. Cartilage crunched; the grip loosened.
Kade barreled through, claws flashing left and right, clearing a path.
They burst into undergrowth, branches whipping skin.
Behind, Victor's voice rose calm: "Fan out. Bring the eyes alive. Kill the rest."
Footsteps crashed, spreading.
Lily ran, twins clutched to her hips, breath burning.
Kade matched pace, leaves exploding under his stride.
Ahead, the forest ended at a gravel road—pack trucks idling, headlights cutting white tunnels.
Relief flickered—then died.
Between trucks and trees stood four more red-eyes, backs to them, blocking escape.
Lily skidded behind a trunk, chest heaving.
Kade crouched, listening. "Road's gone. Circle complete."
She set the twins down, pressed their heads low. "Quiet paws game, remember?"
They nodded, tears silent.
Boots crunched closer—two from left, one right.
She unslung the rifle, checked the magazine—three rounds left.
Kade's claws opened and closed, calculating.
A beam of flashlight swept past their hiding bush.
Lily held her breath.
The footsteps stopped—so close she smelled copper and ozone.
A low whistle—Victor's signal.
The red-eyes moved on, merging into shadows.
Lily exhaled slow.
Kade touched her wrist. "We go uphill—steep, slippery. They'll bottleneck."
She glanced right—slope rising into darkness, rocks loose from spring rain.
No better choice.
She hoisted Finn onto her back, Daisy onto Kade's.
They climbed.
Stones shifted under sneakers; grit slid down the incline.
Every scrape echoed.
Halfway, a voice drifted below—Victor, amused. "I hear you, little moon. Rocks speak loud."
Lily kept climbing.
A rifle cracked.
Dust burst inches from her foot.
She ducked behind a boulder, twins trembling.
Kade crawled beside her, scanning. "Muzzle flash—west ridge. He's herding us higher."
She followed his gaze—cliff edge looming thirty yards above, empty sky beyond.
No escape that way either.
Another shot rang.
Rock splinters stung her cheek.
She wiped blood, mind racing.
Below, torch beams converged, climbing slow.
Above, only stars and drop.
She unclipped the last flare from her belt, cracked the cap.
"Cover ears."
She tossed it backward down the slope.
Blinding white ignited, sparks rolling.
Cries rose—flash-burned eyes, disorientation.
She grabbed Kade's sleeve. "Now—over the edge."
His brow furrowed. "Cliff's sheer."
"Trust me."
She ran straight for the drop, twins clinging.
Ten paces.
Five.
Edge underfoot.
She jumped.
Weightless—then landing hard on a narrow ledge hidden by shadow, six feet below the rim.
Kade crashed beside her, knees bending to absorb shock.
The ledge slanted downward into darkness, wide enough for paws, not much more.
Above, torchlight swept the empty cliff top, voices cursing.
Boots scraped overhead—someone peering over.
Lily pressed flat, mouth in the dirt, heartbeat loud as drums.
The guard's radio crackled. "Negative sighting. Must have slipped back."
Footsteps moved away, crunch fading.
She waited three breaths, then rose.
The ledge dipped into a narrow cleft, opening into a cave mouth smelling of damp earth and wolf.
She entered, Kade close.
Inside, the dark was absolute until Kade clicked the phone light.
Walls were carved with paw prints, hundreds layered upon each other—ancient.
At the far end, a pool reflected the ceiling—stars that weren't there.
Her father had spoken of this: Star-Pool, the crossing between.
She set the twins down, touched the water. Ripples spread, showing images—pack den, her mother singing, Kade laughing in summer grass.
Memories returned like breath after drowning.
She glanced at Kade—tears streaked his dust-coated cheeks.
He dipped his fingers; the ripple showed Victor locking a collar on a child—different child, not theirs, but the same silver eyes.
Lily's stomach turned.
"Portal shows truth," Kade murmured. "He's done this before."
Behind them, pebbles rolled.
She spun—rifle up.
Victor stepped from shadow, throat healed, collar dangling loose in one hand, pistol in the other.
Red eyes glowed behind him—dozens, filling the cave mouth.
He smiled, voice soft. "Found you."
The pool behind Lily bubbled, stars vanishing beneath a rising black shape—antlered, enormous, skull dripping water.
It turned to Victor, jaws opening wide enough to swallow moonlight.
Victor's smile faltered.
He raised the pistol toward the creature.
The creature spoke, voice like glaciers cracking: "Choose your death, meat."
Lily's rifle wavered between monster and man, finger frozen.
The red-eyes waited, uncertain.
The pool churned higher, waves lapping her boots.
Victor's pistol clicked empty—he'd spent the last round above.
He tossed it, lifted the silver collar like a shield. "Silver stops you."
The creature laughed—sound of splintering ships. "I am older than silver."
It stepped onto stone, water cascading.
Victor backed into his own circle of red-eyes, bumping shoulders.
For the first time, fear flickered across his face.
Lily used the moment—hand on Kade's arm, slow retreat toward the far wall where paw-print grooves formed a ladder upward into darkness.
The creature's empty sockets followed them. "All debts are called. Who pays?"
Victor's gaze flicked to Lily—calculation returning.
He lunged, grabbing her wrist, yanking her in front of him toward the creature. "Take her. She carries rare blood."
Kade snarled, claws ripping Victor's sleeve to bone.
Victor didn't let go.
The creature tilted its skull, considering.
Lily struggled, rifle trapped between bodies.
The creature extended a dripping hand toward her heart.
She jerked the trigger—point blank into Victor's ribs.
The shot echoed like thunder.
Victor gasped, grip loosening. Blood spread across his shirt—real, red, human.
He stumbled back, eyes wide, disbelief cracking his mask.
The creature's hand paused inches from Lily's chest.
Behind, red-eyes shifted, uncertain, leader bleeding.
Victor pressed fingers to the wound, stared at the blood, then at her. "You—"
He collapsed to one knee.
The creature turned to her, voice low. "Debt paid?"
Lily's breath came in spurts. "Take him. Leave us."
The creature wrapped fingers around Victor's throat, lifting him effortlessly.
Victor's boots dangled, collar clattering to stone.
He clawed at the hand, gasping.
The creature studied him like spoiled meat.
Then, with a sound like tearing roots, it dragged Victor toward the pool.
He fought, nails scraping stone, eyes locked on Lily—pleading, furious, terrified.
At the water's edge, the creature paused.
Victor managed a strangled word: "Please—"
The creature stepped into the pool, submerging them both.
Water closed over Victor's head without a ripple.
Silence.
The surface smoothed, stars returning beneath.
Gone.
Lily's rifle trembled, smoking.
Red-eyes looked at her, at the empty water, at each other.
One dropped his rifle.
Another followed.
The circle broke, figures backing into tunnels, vanishing.
The cave exhaled.
Kade pulled her close, checking for wounds. "You okay?"
She couldn't stop shaking. "He—gone?"
The pool remained mirror-calm.
Daisy tugged her sleeve. "Momma, look."
The paw-print walls glowed soft blue, forming a single arrow pointing up the groove ladder.
A path home.
Lily gathered the twins, started climbing.
Kade followed, flashlight sweeping.
They emerged into a narrow chimney, rising toward a circle of real night sky.
Stars blinked, familiar constellations.
She climbed faster, boots scraping ancient stone.
At the top, she pulled herself onto grass—forest clearing, fireflies drifting, summer air warm.
Pack trucks idled nearby, wolves searching with torches.
She stood, raised a hand. "Here!"
Headlights swung, illuminating them.
The elder ran forward, relief cracking his stern face.
Behind, Kade lifted the twins out.
Her father appeared from the trucks, bandaged but upright. He opened his arms; Lily fell into them, shaking.
Safe.
For one heartbeat.
From the chimney mouth, water suddenly gushed—clear, cold, smelling of deep earth.
It pooled, forming a perfect circle.
In the center, the silver collar floated, clasp locked, empty.
Ripples spread.
A single red eye blinked beneath the surface—then vanished.
The collar bobbed once, twice—then sank.
The water stilled, reflecting only stars.
Lily stared, breath trapped.
Kade squeezed her shoulder. "It's over."
She wanted to believe him.
The elder ordered the chimney sealed with stones and iron.
Wolves worked fast, grunting, casting nervous glances.
When the last rock slid into place, silence returned—crickets, wind, distant owl.
Pack medic led her father to a truck, started an IV.
Lily sat on the tailgate, twins asleep against her ribs, blanket wrapped tight.
Kade brought hot coffee from a thermos. Steam curled between them.
She sipped, hands steadying.
Around, wolves broke down gear, laughter shaky, relief palpable.
The elder approached. "Victor's empire crumbles. Red-eyes scatter. You did well."
Lily nodded, unable to speak.
He studied her a moment, then pressed something into her palm—the silver key Kade had tossed weeks ago, scorched but intact.
"Home is yours to open now," he said, and walked away.
She closed her fist around the key, metal warm from his hand.
Kade brushed ash from her hair. "Ready to build that porch?"
A tired smile tugged her lips. "Yeah."
Trucks started, engines rumbling like distant thunder.
She loaded the twins into a back seat, buckled them in.
Kade took the wheel; she rode shotgun.
Convoy rolled through forest, headlights weaving gold ribbons.
She watched until the clearing disappeared behind trunks, chimney sealed forever beneath stone.
Only then did she close her eyes, let exhaustion drag her under.
In the dark, she dreamed of water—clear, deep— and a silver collar drifting down, down, until it landed softly on a skull that still wore Victor's smile.
The eye opened.
The smile widened.
And somewhere far above, a hand—her own— reached to clasp the lock shut.
The dream ended with a click that echoed into waking.
She jerked awake.
Truck had stopped.
Moonlight silvered the windshield.
Kade's seat was empty.
So were the twins'.
She sat up fast, door flying open.
They stood in the road, backs to her, staring at the house— their new house, half-built, sky-blue walls gleaming.
Between them and the porch steps lay a single object.
Silver collar.
Clasp open.
Waiting.