Chapter 7: The Pulse Beneath the Stones (part 1)

Rhett and Hanae returned to the heart of Vaelhara just before morning, when the mist began to lift and the air carried the scent of wet leaves. Rhett walked a few paces ahead of Hanae, his strides quick, as if trying to shake off the weight of the night.

Aren was waiting for them in the Circle Hall, beneath the old wooden pillars that surrounded a small fire in the center of the room. The red-tailed hawk shifter sat calmly in human form, his posture upright, his eyes sharp and unblinking.

"What did you find?" he asked without preamble.

"We found something," Hanae replied as she shrugged off her outer cloak. "Faint, but readable."

"Vampire," Rhett spat the word like poison.

Aren drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. "So you've seen the vampire's trail yourself?"

Hanae nodded. "It's clear. Lucia's soulpath was severed by an external force—consistent with a vampire predator."

Aren studied Hanae, gaze steady. "So Merek wasn't hallucinating."

"No. And if I had waited any longer, he might've lost the connection completely."

Aren exhaled deeply, eyes briefly closing.

"And Merek? Can he be healed?"

"His soulpath isn't fully restored, but it's stable for now. He managed to hold onto what remains of the bond."

Aren nodded slowly. "How much time do we have?"

"A few weeks, if he keeps fighting."

"Merek is too weak now. I'm afraid he won't last," Rhett muttered, half-angry, half-concerned.

Hanae glanced at him. "But he held on last night."

Aren sighed again, heavier this time. "Then what's your next move, Sentinel Moreou?"

"I'm going to trace the trail to its source."

Aren's eyes sharpened. "You already have an idea where that is?"

"I do," Hanae replied. "The trail leads west—toward Westvale. The vampire likely left residue there."

Aren stood, his movements like a hawk preparing for flight. "We follow that trail to the root. I won't let that vampire roam freely any longer."

"Could they have come to Westvale on purpose?" Rhett asked, suspicion in his tone.

Aren nodded. "Most likely. It's a small town, surrounded by forest. The soulpaths around it have weakened over generations without shifter guardians. It's the perfect hunting ground—hidden and unprotected."

Rhett clenched his fists. "We turned a blind eye for too long."

"There's no time for regret," Aren said firmly. "Rhett, head to Westvale. Investigate the vampire's movement, look for broken soulpaths. If possible, eliminate the threat."

Rhett cast a sidelong glance at Hanae, half-scowling. "So I'm stuck with you again?"

"I'm not thrilled about it either," Hanae returned coolly.

Aren raised an eyebrow, almost smiling. "You two are surprisingly balanced. Don't complain too much, Rhett."

Rhett huffed but didn't argue.

---

Westvale was a small town nestled at the foot of the mountains, ringed by a dense forest the locals called The Old Pines. Mist hung in the air nearly year-round, lending the place a dreamlike haze—as if the sun was always reluctant to shine.

The journey took half a day. They arrived just as the sun dipped behind the peaks, leaving long shadows across the cobbled streets. Old buildings stood shoulder to shoulder, and the lamplight flickered like weak candle flames.

Hanae sharpened her senses. She followed the faint flow of spirit—like a stream running beneath the stone roads.

"The trail's still here," she whispered. "Faint, but lingering. The vampire didn't leave many gaps."

"If they know how to cover their tracks, they're not a novice predator," Rhett said as he walked beside her. "Probably not alone either."

They turned into a narrow alley, flanked by crumbling brick walls, and stopped before an old building with broken windows.

There, Hanae paused. She placed a palm on the cold wall and felt a subtle pulse.

"Here," she whispered. "The soulpath here was scraped—something tried to erase it. And... I can feel Merek's trace. He must have come here once, maybe trying to find Lucia. Maybe he encountered something."

Rhett raised his head, nostrils flaring. "I don't smell anything."

"How sharp is your nose, anyway?"

"Sharp enough to catch cold metal and blood when it lingers. I've tracked vampires before, even faint ones. But this place is clean. Too clean."

"Then let me track it another way."

Hanae closed her eyes, fingers lightly brushing the air. Shadows flickered behind her eyelids—echoes of Merek, Lucia, and a dark shape slicing between them. But beyond that, a second echo pulsed faintly—another vampire, or something worse.

"He's still in this town," Hanae murmured. "And he didn't come alone."

"You're sure, Sentinel?"

"Absolutely, Khurai. Are you doubting me again?"

Rhett let out a heavy breath. "So they really are working in packs."

Hanae stared into the deepening alley shadows.

"Let's just hope we're not too late."