Chapter 4 – Teeth in the Dark

The first attack came just after nightfall.

The wind had gone still. Too still. Not a single branch moved. No insects chirped. Even the fire at their feet seemed to hesitate, its flames flickering low and nervously.

Seren sat with her back against a moss-covered boulder, her hand on her belly. The child inside her was still. Calm. But her heartbeat was rising.

Across from her, the wolf stood.

He was no longer watching her.

He was listening.

His jaw was tight. Shoulders stiff. Every muscle in his body, ready to spring.

"What is it?" she whispered.

No answer.

He took one slow step toward the treeline, head low, ears twitching.

That's when she smelled it—something foul. Like wet iron and mold. A scent no animal should carry.

A second later, everything exploded.

From the left, a shadow leapt through the air—long, fast, inhuman. Seren screamed. The wolf met it mid-flight, slamming it sideways into the trees with a snarl so deep it vibrated the ground.

She scrambled backward, heart pounding, eyes wide.

What she saw wasn't a beast.

It was a man.

Or… used to be.

Its limbs were too long. Joints bent wrong. Skin stretched thin like old paper. Its face was hidden beneath cracked bark and dried blood.

It wasn't alive.

But it wasn't dead, either.

Another came crashing through the brush, claws like hooked knives.

The wolf tore the first one apart before the second reached her.

But they kept coming.

Three. Then five.

Seren grabbed her knife.

Not to fight.

To defend.

To stay breathing.

She ducked behind the boulder and tried to steady her breath. Her fingers sparked with weak magic. Visions flickered in the corners of her mind—branches twisting, blood splattered on leaves, the child in her arms crying with glowing eyes.

The wolf howled.

It wasn't just a sound—it was a command.

A challenge.

Something ancient.

Something wild.

The fight moved fast.

The wolf moved faster.

He was nothing like the guards in Lucan's dominion. Nothing like the Council's cold enforcers.

He fought like a thing that wanted to live.

Not out of duty.

Out of fury.

Every time one of the creatures lunged, he met them head-on. He didn't dodge. He didn't retreat. He struck hard, bone-breaking, blood-spraying.

Seren peeked out just as he crushed one of their heads with a single stomp.

But it cost him.

A claw raked down his back. He howled and spun, catching the attacker with a slash across the throat.

The creature gurgled.

Dropped.

Then silence.

Heavy breathing.

Blood soaking into the soil.

Only two remained.

They didn't charge.

They circled.

One moved toward Seren.

She backed up, blade trembling in her hand. Her pulse throbbed in her neck. Her body screamed at her to run, but there was nowhere to go.

The creature crept closer.

Then the wolf tackled it mid-step, driving it into a tree so hard the bark cracked in half.

He didn't stop until it stopped moving.

The final one lunged for his throat.

He missed the dodge.

The thing's claws dug into his shoulder and pulled him down hard.

They rolled.

Bit.

Tore.

Seren stood frozen, knife clutched to her chest.

She had to do something.

Anything.

She ran toward the fight and stabbed.

Not well.

Not deep.

But enough.

Her knife sank into the creature's side. It shrieked and turned.

That's all the wolf needed.

He drove his teeth into its neck and ripped it open.

Silence.

Again.

This time, it held.

Seren dropped to her knees, chest heaving.

The wolf collapsed beside her, panting hard. His shoulder was torn open. Deep. Bleeding badly. His side bore bite marks. His back dripped red.

"You're hurt," she whispered.

He growled, but it was weak.

She reached for him.

He didn't stop her.

Her fingers touched his fur. Sticky. Wet.

"I need to clean this. You'll get infected."

Still no words.

But he didn't move.

Didn't leave.

She took that as permission.

Inside the ruined cabin, she boiled water, tore clean strips from her cloak, and lit three candles. The wolf sat near the hearth, eyes closed, body heavy with exhaustion. He didn't flinch when she pressed the hot cloth to his wounds.

"You saved me," she said quietly. "Again."

His ears twitched.

Still silent.

Still listening.

"Why?"

She rinsed the cloth and pressed again.

He growled softly this time.

Not at her.

At the pain.

She leaned closer.

"Who are you?"

He opened one eye.

Gold. Bright. Not fully human.

Not fully wolf.

"I won't hurt you," she said. "You know that."

He looked at her for a long time.

Then—just barely—nodded.

Not much.

But it was more than before.

She didn't sleep that night.

Neither did he.

They sat by the fire, both too tired to move, too wary to rest.

Seren's hand never left her stomach.

The child inside her stirred gently. Not scared. Not angry.

Just aware.

It knew what had happened.

It had felt the blood.

The power.

And so had she.

Those creatures weren't natural.

They weren't born.

They were made.

Twisted.

And someone had sent them.

Not to kill her.

But to test her.

To see if she could survive.

She looked over at the wolf.

He met her eyes.

"Thank you," she said.

Still silent.

But he nodded again.

And in that simple motion, she knew—he wasn't just watching her anymore.

He was choosing to stay.