CHAPTER EIGHT

FREYA

The forest sang with blood.

I stood among the chaos, velvet gown untouched, watching the night rip itself apart. Wolves tore into each other, claws splitting fur, teeth snapping bone. The stench of iron and sweat was thick, and yet it comforted me. Death was an old friend, and tonight it danced for me alone.

Paige of Silvercrest had arrived like a storm, shattering the delicate balance I had woven. I should have been angry, but anger is a waste. I was curious instead. Curious why she would risk her pack in this slaughter. Curious why she would throw herself into a fight she could not win.

And most of all, I was curious about Mira.

She fought like a creature who had nothing left to lose, her eyes blazing with pain that had calcified into rage. I recognized that fire. I had carried it once. She was raw, but there was potential in her, the kind of potential men like Vincent loved to crush under their boots.

I wondered if Kael even understood what he carried at his side.

Anderson dragged himself upright, face bloodied, teeth bared. “We cannot hold them,” he rasped.

I did not look at him. He was a tool, useful when it pleased me, disposable when it did not. My eyes remained on the girl.

Mira slashed through one of Vincent’s thralls, her body trembling from exhaustion but her movements sharp. She screamed as she fought, a sound torn from the gut. That scream unsettled me. It was not the cry of a cornered animal. It was the war cry of someone who refused to die quietly.

Paige, the false Paige with black hair, lunged at her again, blade flashing. Mira ducked and countered, but her strike was sloppy. The warrior would have gutted her if not for Kael’s interference. He tore Paige back, his fangs sinking into her shoulder.

Typical. Always the savior.

The sight bored me. I wanted more. Something different. Something that would tip this game from predictable chaos into legend.

So I made a choice.

I lifted my hand and whispered words only the night remembered. Shadows thickened around my fingers, writhing like snakes. I flicked them outward, and the ground beneath the Silvercrest wolves split open. Screams echoed as two of them vanished into the dark, swallowed whole.

Paige of Silvercrest snarled at me, golden braid swinging as she charged through the smoke. She was strong, but strength without fear is brittle. I caught her mid-step with a glance. Her body froze, suspended in the grip of my will.

“Impressive,” she spat, teeth grinding. “But power alone will not save you from us.”

“Us?” I tilted my head, curious.

Her eyes gleamed. “Silvercrest does not walk alone.”

The forest answered her claim.

A horn blew in the distance, long and deep. Every wolf froze. Even Kael stopped mid-fight, his body going still like prey sensing a greater predator.

I smiled. Now the night was interesting.

Figures emerged from the far treeline, cloaked in pale gray. Their steps were silent, their presence heavy. Hunters. Not wolves. Not vampires. Something older. Something I had not seen in years.

Anderson swore under his breath. “Wraith Keepers.”

The name rolled across the battlefield like a curse.

The cloaked figures carried weapons carved from bone, their faces hidden behind masks painted white. One of them raised a spear, and the tip glowed faintly blue. The light was not beautiful. It was the light of graves.

“By order of the Keepers,” a voice boomed, distorted under the mask, “the balance must be restored. Blood has been spilled without sanction. The debt will be collected.”

Mira’s eyes widened. She did not understand, but Kael did. His face drained of what little color remained.

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her back. “Do not look at them,” he hissed. “Do not speak.”

But Mira was Mira. Defiant, reckless, doomed to disobey. She met the Keeper’s gaze.

The masked figure tilted his head, as though amused. “Interesting. A wolf that defies her chains.”

The others shifted, whispering among themselves in a language older than the soil.

Paige of Silvercrest struggled in my hold, fury etched across her face. “Release me, witch. They are not here for me.”

“No,” I murmured softly. “They are here for all of us.”

The Keeper lifted his spear high, and the glow spread across the battlefield. Wolves whimpered, thralls collapsed, even Anderson stumbled backward. The light did not touch me. Shadows curled tighter around my gown, shielding me from its reach.

The Keeper’s voice cut through the silence. “One of you carries the mark of the Betrayer. Surrender them, and the rest may leave with your lives.”

The mark of the Betrayer. My heart quickened. I knew exactly what they meant.

Kael.

Of course he carried it. The mark burned in his bloodline, a curse laid upon him when he dared defy the old order. It was the reason Vincent hunted him, the reason he would never truly be free.

I glanced at him. His jaw was set, eyes blazing. He would not surrender. He would fight until his last breath, even if it doomed everyone else.

Predictable.

My gaze slid back to Mira. She did not know the full truth, but she sensed it. Her body trembled as she glanced at Kael, then at the Keepers. Her choices were written across her face.

And I saw opportunity.

If I wanted the night to become unforgettable, I needed Mira to break. To make a choice that would haunt her. To make her dangerous.

So I whispered into her mind. Not aloud, not in a way Kael could hear. Just a thread of shadow curling into her ear.

“He will sacrifice you. He always does. Give him to them, and you will be free.”

Her eyes widened, lips parting as though she had heard a ghost.

Kael pulled her closer, shielding her with his body, but I saw the hesitation in her stare. The seed was planted.

The Keepers advanced, weapons raised. The ground shook beneath their steps. Wolves whimpered and fled. Paige of Silvercrest tore free of my hold and vanished into the chaos, dragging her wounded with her. Anderson stumbled after, muttering curses.

But I remained still. Watching. Waiting.

Mira’s hand trembled at her side. She looked at Kael, at the man who had saved her, bitten her, bound her fate to his. And she looked at the Keepers, their glowing weapons promising an end to it all.

Her choice was coming.

And when she made it, the world would bleed.