Chapter Forty-Five: Pack Blood
Hazel's Pov
The forest smelled of iron and ozone long before the first shadow detached itself from the trees.
The darkness didn't just fall; it crawled. Across the treeline, the Skoll-kin—those twisted bounty wolves corrupted by Helena's sterile White Wolf magic—slid through the undergrowth like liquid obsidian. Their eyes were chips of fractured silver, and their grins were too wide, revealing rows of teeth that shouldn't belong to any natural predator.
I stopped at the cliff's edge, right where the old Thornblood pack lands opened into a wide, moonlit clearing. Memories of my childhood surged under my skin like a fever: the first time I'd ever been pinned in a spar, the first time I'd tasted my own blood, and the first time I'd vowed to protect the weak. Now, the past was alive again, demanding a debt be paid.
"Hazel!" Flora's voice cut through the static of my thoughts, sharp and commanding.
I dropped from the canopy behind Caleb, landing with the silent grace of a ghost. My fur was bristling, her claws catching the weird, sickly light of the eclipse. "They're moving faster than I anticipated. The void is hungry tonight."
"Good," I whispered, the word vibrating in my chest. I let my instincts take the wheel. My pulse synced with the ancient rhythm of the woods; every heartbeat felt like a war drum echoing in the hollows of my bones. "Let them come. They're about to learn exactly what a Thornblood is."
Caleb stepped up beside me. He was silent, a pillar of shadow and resolve, but his breathing fell perfectly into the pocket of mine. We didn't need words. Our souls were already speaking in a language of heat and gravity.
The first wave hit with a guttural growl that made the very ground shiver.
Wolves lunged, their bodies slick with a parasitic shadow that seemed to swallow the light. Fangs snapped inches from my face. I rolled forward, feeling Adam's presence coil around my muscles—a perfect blend of human precision and lupine ferocity.
"Hazel—left!" Flora barked. I was slow even though I was in control in wolf form. Flora took it.
She swiped at a Skoll-kin that lunged from the brush. Her claws caught it across the shoulder, tearing through its shadow-flesh, but she didn't deliver a killing blow. She used her power to pin it, bending the creature into submission with a sharp, controlled pressure that made the wolf whine in confusion rather than pain.
I took control back and followed her lead. Every movement was a result of a thousand hours of agony in the training pits, every strike calculated to the millimeter. I didn't want a graveyard; I wanted a statement. I needed the Elders watching from the shadows to see that mercy wasn't a weakness—it was the ultimate display of power.
A massive wolf leapt, teeth aimed for my jugular. I twisted, using its own momentum against it, and slammed it into a thick oak. The bark cracked with a sickening thud. I pinned it with one knee, my hand glowing with a soft, pulsing red, and whispered, "Sleep."
The dark energy drained from its eyes instantly. It went limp, its breathing steady but its will broken.
Caleb moved like a blur next to me. His claws didn't rend flesh; they restrained limbs. We were a mirror image, a coordinated dance of connection. We weren't hunting prey; we were neutralizing a threat.
"Hazel, there are too many!" Flora growled, her silver energy flaring into a blinding halo. Trees snapped under the pressure of her bursts as she forced a dozen wolves to crash into one another, creating a tangled pile of fur and shadow.
I raised my paws, tapping into the Red Wolf Fusion. I reached for Caleb's aura, pulling it toward mine until the forest was illuminated in a terrifying, beautiful crimson fire.
The Skoll-kin stopped mid-leap. Their paws froze in the air as if the atmosphere had turned to glass. Their silver eyes widened in primal confusion. The shadows shrieked as they recoiled, unable to pierce the barrier of our combined presence.
"Keep them pinned!" I hissed, the power roaring in my ears. "Do not let them regroup!"
A tremor ran through me—through Adam, through Caleb—when I realized the Elders were there. They were cloaked among the ancient trees, invisible but omnipresent. They were the judges of this trial. My mercy was being weighed on a scale I couldn't see.
A Skoll-kin lunged toward a young pack member—a pup barely old enough to shift—who was hiding near the perimeter. Without thinking, I dashed. I grabbed the beast mid-air and twisted. It landed with a dazed yelp, shocked but entirely unbroken.
"You're showing restraint," a voice echoed softly through the clearing, sounding like wind through dry leaves. It was an Elder. "Even in the heart of chaos, she protects the pack. She is… different from the kings of old."
I didn't answer. I couldn't. Another wave surged, teeth glinting like shards of glass.
"Hazel, Caleb—together!" Flora called out.
We surged forward as a trinity. Caleb on my left, Lucien on my right. Caleb and my power combined Red light wrapped around us—a visible pulse of sovereign power that stunned the Skoll-kin where they stood. We moved as a single entity—striking, twisting, redirecting. Wolves slammed into one another, bound by our will, incapacitated but very much alive.
Helena's signature magic pulsed faintly from the deep shadows. She was there, watching through the eyes of her puppets. She wanted to see me break. She wanted to see me become a monster like her.
I smiled faintly into the dark. Watch closely, Helena. This is how a real leader fights.
After what felt like an eternity, the clearing fell into a sudden, heavy stillness.
I was in the center, my chest heaving, my hair matted with sweat, but my eyes blazing with an unextinguished fire. Around us, dozens of Skoll-kin lay stunned and bound in a glowing lattice of energy—a living testament to power under absolute control.
Flora landed inside me smiling me, her breathing steady, her tail flicking with a rare sense of pride. "You've grown," she said softly, her voice almost reverent. "You are stronger than even my memories of the Red Wolf."
Caleb leaned against a nearby tree, his eyes meeting mine. There was a raw, fierce pride there that hit me harder than any physical blow. "You didn't just survive this, Hazel. You led. You commanded. You protected everyone—even the enemies who were forced to fight you."
I allowed myself a small, sharp smile, though exhaustion was beginning to claw at my limbs. "We did it together," I corrected.
The Elders stepped from the shadows, their silhouettes long and imposing. They nodded slowly, murmuring among themselves as they looked at the restrained wolves and the lack of blood on the grass.
"The Red Wolf is not just a force of destruction," an Elder said, his voice carrying the weight of law. "She is a Protector. That will not be forgotten when the final vote is cast."
I let the words sink in. It wasn't the end of the war—Helena was still out there, weaving her next nightmare. But for the first time, I felt grounded. My pack, my power, my bond—they were alive. They were mine.
Flora nudged me lightly. "And I'm still here."
I exhaled, the tension finally leaving my body. The Skoll-kin would wake up tomorrow, and they would remember that when a Thornblood fights, they fight for a future, not just a victory.