The howl of the seraph

The coppery scent of blood filled the air before i saw it. Mine

It’s dripped from the cut just above my eyebrows it’s felt warm and too sticky. yuck! I’ve never been one to like the feeling of blood on my skin. it was all a painful reminder of how slow I was in avoiding the blow the last feral struck when he came rushing towards me. claws and all extended. my chest felt like it was on fire, my heart beat too quickly and blood roared in my ears. and still I ran. this is what the life of being an exile entails.

A life of Constant flight with no option of fight. like they usual adage gives you the option “flight or fight”

the moon hung low, large and silent, watching like the cold eyes of Máni. I hated it. I hated the way it stared at me and hated it even more because He knew I wasn’t one of them. not really. I wasn’t a true wolf or So they told me. they say my blood was tainted. corrupt if you like the word.

That I’d never shift. remaining a nobody. and may be they were right. that the gods made a mistake the day I was born.

I reach the edge of the valley and slipped behind the ruins of the crumbled watch tower overlooking the castle. my fingers dug into the stone. the ruins of my fathers teritory still smelt like smoke and betrayal. literally! this was the curse of being Wolfblood. fenris’ lineage. no scent is ever forgotten. I had to get to the castle before the morning Sun.

The tower had not yet appeared. But I knew it was going to come to this part of the kingdom at the edge of dawn. that’s how the council kept themselves out of reach. The moving castle. it had been 10 Years since the council burnt everything to the ground. but the ghosts didn’t care about calendars.

neither did I.

A twig snapped behind me.

I turned sharply. the feral was massive, - bigger than any natural Wolf would be. its eyes glowed a dull, unnatural red. mangled fur, BLACKened claws and foam caked at the edges of his mouth. The Hatisynir. A race that once been men or maybe something within the Neanderthal family. but the underscourge had taken hold. corruption in the blood, Ragee in his bones and hatred in his marrow. they weren’t wolves anymore.they were decay in the flesh.

i gritted my teeth in frustration. I thought I had outsmarted him but he seem to have tracked me. I gripped the blade strap to my ankle boots. it wasn’t Silfr just pure Stàl sharpened with stones but not dulled by the weather. I’d take my odds. he spotted me on snarled—and then stopped.

A shadow moved behind it. Fast. Silent.

Then the feral’s head jerked back with a sickening crack.

It collapsed, twitching. Dead before it hit the ground.

I blinked.

And that’s when I saw him.

I had heard so much about him. his tales preceeded him. “The Hatiknifr”, killer of his kind. “The Draugulfr”, ghost wolf and phantom hunter. “The boy who cried wolf” as Menn call him.

The man stepped over the corpse like it was an inconvenience. it had alread started steaming into a pile of ash.His boots didn’t make a sound. His coat — long, grey, tailored like it belonged in a vampire novel — fluttered around his ankles. His hair was grey, but not old. Not dying. He moved like a predator that had learned patience from experience.

His eyes locked on mine.

Grey as his hair. Empty. Cold.

“Seraphine Vale,” he said. “You’re harder to find than I expected.”

he stuck his sword into the ground. the place where the carcass just fizzled into. he adjusted his grey leather golves while staring at me.

I didn’t move. “Do I know you?”

“No. But I know what you are.”

I stood slowly. My blade stayed in my hand.

“Let me guess,” I said, tilting my head. I had to play dumb lest he kills me for fun. “Council bounty hunter? Rogue tracker? Another idiot with a holy mission?”

my mind was screaming like crazy for me to take it easy.

His lips curved — not a smile, more like an insult.

“You reek of fear and stupidity. youre not even a good liar” he said.“But I’ll play you’re game. Lucien Draeven, Alpha of Máningardr.”

My breath caught. He knew!.

But the name he called, Máningardr?

Impossible. They were myth and folklore. A celestial tribe. Or at least, they stayed far away from ruined borderlands like this one.

“What do you want?” I asked, voice steady despite panic building inside me.

“You,” he said smugly. “Alive, preferably.”

“Why?”

“Because your blood sings to the old magik. And because I don twant to fight you. I could pick you up before you blink.”

“Try me.”I responded.

he smirked and moved like a blur, next thing he touched my cheeks with a finger. I couldn’t even pick his scent. “Do you believe me now?”

I stabbed at him with my blade but I was cutting through thin air, he was back where he stood.

“I don’t have time for this”, he said something worse than you is coming. And because I don’t like wasting potential.”

“I’m not a pawn in someone else’s prophecy.”

He stepped closer. “No. You’re a weapon, waiting to be exploited because of your ignorance. You just don’t know it yet. And you need to take a pause on this revenge crusade of yours.”

His scent finally hit me — cold stone, iron, and something older. Not like any alpha I’d met before.

I raised the blade. “Touch me, and I’ll slit your throat.”

Lucien studied me like I was a puzzle someone had broken on purpose.

“Seems like my stunt did not impress you,” he said. “I believe you tough, But you’ll still come with me.”

“And why’s that?”

He nodded to the sky. “Because the underscourged aren’t done hunting you. And you’ve already bled too much.”

I looked down. The blood had pooled around my boot.

Damn.

“Come,” he said walking away. “we have much to discuss, but not under this stars.” he looked up “The all-father monitors all too closely these days.”

I took a step to cautiously follow him and that’s where my world turned black.