Chapter 42: The Marked Prey

Chapter 42: Chapter 42: The Marked Prey

The morning after the attack arrived beneath a pale, colorless sky.

Snow had fallen throughout the night, covering the tracks left behind by the Dreadborn and softening the scars around the settlement.

The damaged sentry posts stood like broken skeletons along the outer perimeter, while the Blackfang hunters moved quietly between them, inspecting the defenses and repairing whatever could still be saved.

Nobody spoke loudly that morning.

The pack had survived another night, but the knowledge that intelligent enemies had entered their territory had changed the atmosphere completely.

Ash woke before the sun had fully risen.

For several moments, he remained inside the warm den, listening to the breathing of the wolves around him.

The settlement was unusually quiet, and even the younger cubs seemed to sense the tension among the adults.

Ash slowly lifted his head and looked toward the entrance.

Something was pulling at his attention.

He reached beneath his fur and touched the relic hanging around his neck.

The stone was warm.

That alone was unusual.

But when Ash turned his head toward the western mountains, the red symbol inside the blue relic suddenly pulsed.

Once.

Then again.

Ash immediately sat upright.

The red eye seemed almost alive.

He turned away from the mountains, and the glow weakened. He looked back, and the red symbol brightened again.

Ash’s breathing became slower.

The relic was reacting to something.

He quietly stepped outside.

The morning air was cold enough to sting his nose, and thin snowflakes drifted through the pale sunlight. Ash walked toward the western side of the settlement, keeping his eyes fixed on the mountains.

The closer he got, the stronger the relic became.

Then he noticed something strange.

There were tracks in the snow outside the defensive perimeter.

Several sets of them.

They belonged to the Dreadborn.

But none of those tracks entered the settlement.

They stopped several meters beyond the outer barrier.

Ash crouched beside them.

The footprints were deep enough to show that the creatures had stood there for some time. They had approached the settlement, stopped, and then turned away.

They could have entered.

They had chosen not to.

Ash felt an uncomfortable realization settle inside him.

They had wanted the Blackfangs to discover their presence.

Aren appeared beside him without making a sound.

The young Silver Lynx studied the tracks for several seconds before looking at Ash.

"They stopped," Aren said.

Ash nodded.

"They could have come inside."

Aren’s ears lowered.

"They wanted us to know they were here."

Ash looked at him.

The thought made the morning feel colder.

Before either of them could say anything else, Rowan approached from the eastern side with two hunters.

His expression immediately became serious when he saw the tracks.

"You two shouldn’t be here."

Ash pointed toward the footprints.

"They stopped before entering."

Rowan looked down.

He followed the trail with his eyes and slowly realized what Ash had already understood.

"They wanted us to see this."

Aren nodded.

Rowan remained silent for a moment.

Then he looked toward the western forest.

"They are becoming more confident."

"No," Ash said quietly. "I think they were confident yesterday."

Rowan looked at him.

Ash touched the relic beneath his fur.

"I think they were closer than we realized."

Rowan’s expression hardened.

He immediately ordered the nearby hunters to increase the perimeter patrols.

Nobody was allowed to leave the settlement alone, and the western forest was temporarily placed under strict observation.

For the next hour, the Blackfangs searched the surrounding area.

They found nothing.

No Dreadborn.

No fresh bodies.

No unusual tracks.

Then one of the hunters called out.

"Rowan!"

The group rushed toward the voice.

A tree stood near the outer edge of the settlement, only a short distance beyond the defensive boundary.

Carved into its dark bark was the same symbol from the previous night.

A black claw.

A crimson eye.

But this time, the carving was deeper.

Fresh wood surrounded the symbol.

The mark had been made recently.

Mira arrived soon afterward.

She stared at the symbol without speaking.

Ash noticed that she looked more troubled than she had the previous day.

"They’re getting closer," Rowan said.

Mira slowly nodded.

"They want us frightened."

Rowan shook his head.

"I don’t think fear is their main objective."

Mira looked at him.

"Then what is?"

Rowan glanced toward Ash.

"I think they want him to know they’re watching."

Ash remained silent.

He hated that Rowan was probably right.

The rest of the morning passed under constant tension.

The wounded hunters were recovering, although one still suffered from severe bruising. The hunter who had been found in the western forest remained unconscious, and Mira refused to leave his side for long.

By midday, Rowan made a decision.

"We need to know where they are coming from."

Mira immediately disagreed.

"We don’t know what they have waiting for us."

"We know even less if we stay here."

Rowan looked toward the western forest.

"If they are using that territory to observe the settlement, we need to find their camp before they learn everything about us."

Mira looked at Ash.

"No."

Ash knew what she meant.

"You’re staying here."

Ash lowered his head.

"I can help."

"You already helped enough."

Mira’s voice softened.

"You are not a hunter yet, Ash. You are carrying something we barely understand, and whatever those creatures are, they have specifically asked about you."

Ash looked toward the western mountains.

"I think that’s exactly why I should go."

Mira opened her mouth to argue.

Before she could, Rowan spoke.

"He stays with me."

Mira turned toward him.

"Rowan."

"I won’t take him deep into the forest," Rowan said. "We’ll investigate the first section, and if anything feels wrong, we’ll return immediately."

Mira clearly disliked the idea.

But after several seconds, she finally nodded.

"Take Aren."

Aren looked surprised.

Mira continued.

"He understands the forest better than any of us now. If something feels wrong, trust his instincts."

By early afternoon, Rowan, Ash, Aren, and three experienced Blackfang hunters left the settlement.

The forest swallowed them within minutes.

The further they traveled, the quieter it became.

At first, Ash could hear birds moving through the branches.

Then the birds disappeared.

He heard small animals running through the undergrowth.

Then those sounds vanished too.

Even the wind seemed weaker beneath the dense trees.

Aren stopped suddenly.

Rowan raised his paw.

Everyone froze.

Aren slowly looked around.

"What?"

Aren’s nose moved slightly.

"Smoke."

Rowan looked ahead.

A faint smell of burned wood drifted through the forest.

They continued cautiously.

Eventually, they discovered an abandoned hunting camp.

It was hidden between several large trees and partially covered with snow.

A small fire pit remained in the center.

The ashes were still dark.

Someone had been there recently.

Rowan crouched beside the fire.

"Not more than a day."

One hunter examined the surrounding ground.

"There are footprints."

Several sets.

They were not Blackfang.

They were not Silver Lynx.

They belonged to the Dreadborn.

Ash looked around the camp.

There were no food remains.

No animal bones.

No discarded supplies.

Instead, several thin branches had been tied together into crude markers around the clearing.

Each marker pointed toward the Blackfang settlement.

Rowan’s face became grim.

"They’ve been mapping our movements."

Then Ash noticed something hanging from a nearby branch.

A strip of black fur.

Blackfang fur.

It had been carefully tied around the branch.

Not torn.

Not accidentally caught.

Placed there.

Ash’s chest tightened.

"They’re collecting information about us."

Rowan slowly nodded.

"They know our patrol routes."

Aren stepped closer to the fur.

He smelled it.

Then he looked toward the trees.

"Someone watching."

Every Blackfang immediately turned.

Nothing moved.

The forest remained silent.

Then a branch snapped behind them.

Rowan’s ears lifted.

"Formation."

The hunters moved together.

Ash’s heart began pounding.

Something was coming.

And this time, they were not alone.

The first Dreadborn stepped from between the trees.

It did not roar.

It did not threaten them.

It simply walked into the clearing and stopped.

Another appeared behind it.

Then a third.

Three creatures.

No more.

But somehow, their presence made the entire forest feel smaller.

They were similar to the creature that had appeared during the previous night’s attack. Dark fur covered their bodies, while pieces of bone armor protected their shoulders, chests, and forearms. Their movements were controlled and deliberate, and their crimson eyes remained fixed on the Blackfang group.

Rowan stepped forward.

"Stay together."

The hunters formed a defensive line.

Ash moved beside Aren.

One of the Dreadborn tilted its head.

It looked at each Blackfang individually.

Almost as if memorizing them.

Then its eyes settled on Ash.

Aren noticed.

He shifted slightly in front of Ash.

The Dreadborn’s mouth curved into a faint smile.

It understood.

Without warning, one of the creatures moved.

The attack was so fast that Ash barely saw it.

The Dreadborn crossed the clearing and struck one of Rowan’s hunters across the shoulder.

The hunter managed to raise his foreleg in time, but the impact threw him sideways into the snow.

"Hold the line!" Rowan shouted.

Another Dreadborn attacked.

Rowan met it head-on.

Their bodies collided with a heavy impact, and both slid several feet across the snow.

Claws struck against bone armor.

The sound echoed through the trees.

To be continued...