Chapter 130

Late in the afternoon, I joined a patrol near the southern border, where Silas’s forces had been sighted earlier. The forest was eerily quiet, the usual sounds of birds and rustling leaves absent, replaced by the silence of wolves lying in wait. The tension was thick, every wolf on edge, ready to spring into action at the slightest movement. Then, like a ripple spreading through the trees, the scent of Silas’s wolves reached us. I caught the smell of damp fur, stale and sour, mixed with the unmistakable scent of aggression. They were close, hidden among the trees, their silence a dark promise.

“Elara,” I murmured into the communication line we’d established.

“They’re here. They’re moving in from the south.”

Her voice came back immediately, calm but urgent.

“Stay in formation, Dante. Wait for my signal. We’ll strike together.”

I glanced at the wolves around me, catching Ash’s eye. He looked young, nervous, but he gave me a firm nod, determination flashing in his gaze. He and the other younger wolves had been tested in the last skirmish, but this would be a different fight—a real battle, one that could mean the end of everything if we weren’t careful.

Silas himself emerged from the shadows, his eyes gleaming as he surveyed us with a look of twisted satisfaction. His wolves moved in behind him, spreading out in a formation that would press against our defenses. This wasn’t a scouting party; this was his full force, and he was here to destroy us.