Chapter 5: The First Hunt

The howls multiplied.

Low, guttural, and too close.

Lena moved swiftly, pressing her back against the fragile hut wall. The wood was damp and weak—not nearly strong enough to keep anything out. She needed a plan. Fast.

The man stood a few feet away, completely still. His golden eyes flickered toward the tree line, where the Wraith Hounds lurked just beyond sight. Waiting. Watching.

Lena tightened her grip on the knife. "How many?"

The man didn't look at her. "Four."

Her jaw clenched. Too many. One Wraith Hound had been bad enough. But four?

She calculated. The hut wasn't defensible. The open ground was a death trap. The only chance she had was the trees—higher ground, more obstacles.

She took a slow step toward the tree line. "We need to move."

This time, he did glance at her. "You run, they'll chase."

Lena didn't stop. "Then let's not run."

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The Hunt Begins

The second Lena moved into the trees, the first Wraith Hound lunged.

She felt it before she saw it—a rush of air, the flicker of silver eyes—then teeth flashing toward her throat.

Lena pivoted sharply, ducking low, her knife slicing upward—just a second too late.

The creature twisted mid-air, unnaturally fast, landing with a heavy thud behind her.

She spun, blade raised. Too late again.

It lunged again—

And then the man moved.

A blur of motion. A sharp impact.

The Wraith Hound slammed into the ground with a sickening crack.

Lena's breath hitched.

She hadn't even seen him move.

No wasted motion. No hesitation. Just pure, calculated efficiency.

But she didn't have time to process it. Because the other three Wraith Hounds were already charging.

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Fighting as One

Lena didn't wait for him to take the lead.

She moved—fast, calculated, precise.

A second Wraith Hound lunged at her, its silver eyes locked onto her throat.

Lena dodged left, letting its momentum carry it past her. Then, she struck—knife flashing in the dim light, slicing cleanly through the beast's exposed flank.

A sharp snarl. The scent of blood.

It staggered, but it wasn't down.

They're strong.

Stronger than any normal predator.

But they could be hurt.

The man, meanwhile, had already dealt with another. Lena barely caught a glimpse of him—his movements almost too fluid, too controlled. Not reckless, not aggressive. Just efficient.

The third beast lunged at him.

He turned, sidestepped effortlessly, and drove his fist into its side—a precise, devastating blow.

Lena blinked. He wasn't even using a weapon.

The creature hit the ground hard, wheezing.

He took a step forward—silent, deliberate.

The Wraith Hound bolted.

Not out of fear. Out of understanding.

Lena's stomach twisted. It knew.

It knew it wasn't going to win.

She didn't have time to dwell on it.

The wounded Wraith Hound she'd struck earlier lunged one last time—a desperate, bloodied attack.

Lena didn't hesitate. She pivoted, braced herself—and drove her knife straight into its throat.

A wet gurgle. A final, jerking movement.

Then—stillness.

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Aftermath

The forest was silent.

The last surviving Wraith Hound had disappeared into the trees. The others lay dead in the grass.

Lena exhaled slowly, pulling her knife free from the beast's neck. Blood dripped onto the damp earth, soaking into the soil.

The man stood a few feet away, watching her.

Lena didn't meet his gaze immediately. Instead, she crouched beside one of the fallen creatures, studying its form up close for the first time.

The fur was thick, almost metallic in texture. The silver eyes remained eerily bright, even in death.

"These things aren't normal," she muttered.

"No," the man agreed. "They're not."

Lena glanced up at him, searching for any sign of deception. He was composed, too composed.

He had known exactly how to fight them. He hadn't hesitated.

And that last Wraith Hound—it hadn't just run. It had understood.

She wiped the blood from her knife. "How do you know so much about them?"

The man didn't answer immediately.

Then, a small, unreadable smile. "Experience."

Lena exhaled through her nose. Vague. Unhelpful. Expected.

But she wasn't done pushing.

She rose to her feet. "What's your name?"

The pause was slight. Almost imperceptible.

Then—

"Riven."

Lena held his gaze.

A name. Not necessarily the truth. But a start.

She turned away, wiping the last of the blood from her blade. "Well, Riven. If you're sticking around, you'd better be useful."

A soft chuckle. "I think I already have been."

Lena clicked her tongue but didn't argue. For now.

The night was far from over.

And she still had more questions than answers.

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