Chapter 2 No More Chains

The cold night air slams into me like a punch to the gut, sharp and alive with the scent of pine, damp earth, and fear. Real, tangible fear.

Behind me, Blackthorn Hollow burns.

The flames claw at the sky, sending thick smoke curling into the night. The once-mighty hunting lodge, where nobles feasted and laughed as they chose their prey, is now a ruin of screams and chaos. They wanted a hunt. They got one.

A blur of motion. A shadow breaking free from the chaos.

Soren.

He wasn't in a cage-he was never meant to be here. A rogue, a survivor, slipping through cracks where others fall. He must have hidden among the dead when the first wave of slaughter began, waiting for his moment.

Now, that moment is here.

He moves like a phantom, slipping past fallen guards, his blade flashing silver in the dim torchlight. He reaches me, chest heaving, breath ragged. His fur is matted with blood-some his, most not. He shoots me a look, sharp and knowing.

"Figured you could use an extra hand," he mutters, gripping a stolen dagger.

I nod. We run.

"They'll send riders." His voice is low, edged with warning.

I nod, already hearing the distant thunder of hooves. The nobles won't let their entertainment escape so easily.

"We need to move," I say. "Fast."

Soren grunts, baring his teeth in something that might be a grin. "Took you long enough to say it."

The others-those strong enough to fight-are right behind us. I glance over my shoulder. More than a dozen werewolves run through the trees, their eyes burning with the same unspoken promise. We aren't running. We're regrouping.

A horn blares behind us.

The Hunt has begun again.

"Scatter!" I bark. "Break off in pairs. Lose them."

The group obeys without hesitation. We know this game. We've played it before.

The difference?

Tonight, we make the rules.

I leap over a fallen log, diving into the thick underbrush just as the first riders burst into the clearing. Torches flicker, silver weapons glinting. I recognize them.

The nobility's personal executioners.

Soren ducks beside me, pressing his back against a tree. His lips curl in a snarl. "Blackthorn's personal hounds."

"Arrogant bastards," I mutter. "They think silver makes them gods."

Soren chuckles darkly. "Let's remind them they bleed."

A rider dismounts. His armor gleams in the firelight, the Blackthorn crest stitched into his cloak. His silver-tipped spear glows beneath the moon.

I know that weapon.

I know him.

Tomas Verren.

The man who dragged me into that cage.

I exhale slowly, my pulse a steady drumbeat. The shift is rising beneath my skin, my bones aching to snap, to reshape. Not yet. Not yet.

Tomas scans the forest, his voice cutting through the darkness. "Come out, beasts." His tone is smooth, practiced, a hunter speaking to prey. "You know how this ends."

I step into the light.

"It ends with your blood on the ground, Verren."

He startles, just slightly, before his mask of arrogance returns. "Ah, Kade. You should have stayed in your cage. At least there, you had a few more hours of life."

Soren growls behind me, but I hold up a hand. This kill is mine.

Verren smirks. "I'll make this quick."

I don't let him.

I explode forward, closing the distance before he can even react. He thrusts his spear, but I sidestep, grabbing the shaft and snapping it in two. His eyes widen-shock, fear-then my claws rake across his throat.

Blood sprays hot against my chest.

His body crumples.

The second rider barely has time to shout before Soren tackles him off his horse, fangs sinking into his throat. The man gurgles-then silence.

The other riders panic.

One yanks his horse around, spurring it toward the safety of Blackthorn's walls. Another fumbles for his crossbow. He barely lifts it before I'm on him, slamming him from the saddle.

I grab his collar, yanking him close. His breath is ragged, his eyes wide. He smells like fear.

"Run," I whisper.

His lips tremble. "W-what?"

I let my claws trail against his throat-just enough to make a point. "Run back to Blackthorn. Tell them the game has changed. Tell them we're coming."

He doesn't hesitate. He scrambles to his feet, tripping over himself as he stumbles into the woods.

Soren wipes blood from his mouth, his sharp teeth gleaming. "Letting him live?"

"He'll spread fear for us." I look toward the distant glow of Blackthorn Hollow. "They think they've been hunting animals."

Soren grins. "Time to show them we're monsters."

The full moon crests the sky. My bones crack, my skin stretches, and the beast within me answers its call.

The first howl splits the night-long, wild, and hungry.

It isn't mine.

My head snaps up, ears ringing as another howl follows, then another. Not just from my pack. From all around us.

Soren stiffens. "That's not one of ours."

My claws tighten at my sides. "No."

The trees whisper with movement. Shadows shift between the trunks, too many to be just the survivors from Blackthorn Hollow.

I step forward, heart hammering. "Who's there?"

Silence. Then, a voice-low, guttural, and wrong.

"You are not the only ones who have been hunted, Kade."

A pair of glowing red eyes blink open in the darkness. Then another. And another.

The Hunt isn't over.

It's just beginning.