•West Thunoa Forest•
Ace’s POV
The forest air rushed past my face, sharp with the scent of pine resin and wet bark. My paws pounded against the soft earth, each stride sending vibrations up my legs. Philip’s weight shifted uneasily on my back as we navigated through the dense undergrowth, his fingers tightening in my fur whenever we took a sharp turn. Ray ran parallel to , his silver-orange fur glinting whenever moonlight broke through the canopy.
My ears swiveled constantly, filtering through the night sounds - rustling leaves, distant owl calls, the steady rhythm of our breathing. Then it hit like a physical blow, a realization I should have made hours ago.
"Philip," I growled, the words rumbling up from my chest. My pace didn’t falter, but my muscles tensed beneath his grip. "That woman Khaleed spoke to - black hair with green highlights. That’s impossible for a werewolf."
Philip’s body stiffened against my back. "What do you an?" His voice ca out higher than usual, laced with confusion.
Ray let out a huff that might have been a laugh, his tongue lolling slightly. "Took you long enough, Alpha." The teasing note in his voice didn’t mask the underlying tension.
Sha burned through , hot and sudden. My claws dug deeper into the soil as we ran. Had Ray been waiting for to piece this together? The thought made my tail bristle. I’d been so focused on strategies and routes that I’d overlooked the glaring inconsistency.
"Hair color denotes lineage," I explained, my words coming faster now. The forest blurred around us as I pushed our pace. "Silverhowl - grays and silvers. Crimsonheart - browns and orange. Wildfire - fla red. Shadow - pure black. Mixed heritage shows blended colors, like Ray’s silver-orange." My breath ca in sharp pants. "But green? No werewolf bloodline carries that."
Philip’s grip on my fur tightened. "So we’re facing werewolves and... humans?"
Ray snapped his jaws sharply. "Witches and werewolves." The three words carried centuries of bad blood. "Don’t know why they’re working together, but that’s what we’re dealing with."
The ancient feud between our kinds flashed through my mind - the burned villages, the cursed bloodlines, the decades of mistrust. My hackles rose instinctively.
"But how can you be certain she’s a witch?" Philip pressed. I could feel him leaning forward, his breath warm against my ear. "Couldn’t she be human?"
I shook my head, the motion making Philip grab tighter to stay balanced. "Chief Gareth’s story. That ’traveler’ gave them new magic chains." My lips curled back from my teeth. "Humans don’t forge magical restraints. Only witches have that knowledge."
Ray let out an agreeing rumble. "No human could’ve provided those chains because humans don’t have mana. It’s witchwork, through and through."
Philip exhaled sharply. "That... makes too much sense."
I slowed our pace slightly, my ears flattening against my skull. "Listen carefully. Witches are dangerous in numbers. If we encounter more than a few, we retreat imdiately." My claws scored the earth as we ca to a stop. "Our mission remains the sa - capture bandits, gather intel. But if we see that green-haired witch..." A growl built in my throat. "We take her down first."
"Understood," Philip said, his voice steadier now.
Ray dipped his head in a sharp nod, his orange eyes gleaming in the dark. "We move carefully from here."
The hairs along my spine stood erect before my conscious mind registered the danger. A faint vibration humd through the earth beneath my paws - not sound, not scent, but sothing deeper, sothing primal. The musky odor of unfamiliar werewolf reached my nostrils, cutting through the forest’s damp pine aroma.
I threw up a clawed hand, bringing us to an abrupt halt. "Ray, stop." My whisper carried the barest tremor of warning. "Two bandits - close."
Ray’s body froze mid-motion, every muscle in his transford fra locking into perfect stillness. Only his orange eyes moved, scanning the blackness between the trees.
Philip’s fingers dug into my fur as he leaned down. "If you can sense them, Ace, why can’t they sense us?"
I took a steadying breath, letting the calm wash over . "Because I’m a half-witch; it enhances all my senses, as well as my wolf’s. Plus, werewolves have varying strengths. So are stronger than others."
Ray’s muzzle dipped close to my ear, his warm breath ghosting over my fur. "Positions?"
"Twelve and three o’clock," I murmured. My claws extended reflexively, scraping against the damp soil. The forest air grew thick with the copper tang of adrenaline.
With careful movents, I lowered my front quarters, allowing Philip to slide from my back. He pressed two magic cuffs into my grip—the ice-cold tal searing through the thin articulation of my gloves’ fingertips.
I passed one set to Ray, the enchanted cuffs humming against my palm like a trapped wasp. Even through the iron, that unnatural chill seeped into my bones.
"Stay here," I ordered Philip, pressing the remaining cuffs into his hands. His fingers closed around them with surprising steadiness. " Ray and I will be back soon.Don’t worry, you can fight later, but for now, save your energy."
Philip’s grin flashed white in the moonlight. "Save so bandits for , yeah?" The playful lilt in his whisper couldn’t disguise the readiness in his stance.
I huffed through my nose, the ghost of a smile tugging at my muzzle. Even unshifted, the man had the heart of a warrior.
"Three o’clock is mine," I told Ray. His answering nod sent shadows dancing across his silver-orange fur.
We moved with the swiftness of shadows, our movents silent and deadly. The undergrowth snagged at my fur, the damp earth clinging to my feet. Ahead, I saw him—the bandit, his silhouette barely visible against the dense foliage. He was scanning his surroundings, his eyes darting nervously, a tremor in his stance betraying his unease. I could feel him, a prickle of awareness radiating from him like heat. The scent of his fear, sharp and musky, mixed with the earthy sll of the forest floor.
Before he could even consider transforming, I launched myself, a blur of motion. The air rushed past my ears as I closed the distance, the muscles in my legs burning with the effort. My fist connected with his gut, a solid thud that resonated through my arm. He doubled over, a strangled gasp escaping his lips, the wind knocked out of him. He crumpled to the ground, his body hitting the earth with a soft thud.
I was on him instantly, my weight pinning him down. The rough texture of his tunic scraped against my fur as I secured his arms behind his back. The cold steel of the magic cuffs felt reassuringly solid in my hand as I fastened them, the click echoing in the sudden silence of the forest. His ragged breathing was the only sound, a testant to the sudden end of his aggression. Leaving him there, unconscious but bound.
Ray’s POV
Ace and I split apart without a word, two shadows dissolving into the night. The forest swallowed us whole—him to the right, straight ahead. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine resin, the kind of stillness that made my claws itch.
Then—movent.
Twelve o’clock. A bandit.
His head jerked up, nostrils flaring as he sucked in a sharp breath. Human form. Nervous. The sour tang of his fear hit my tongue, tallic like blood. His fingers twitched at his sides, his muscles tensing as his bones began to crack—the first sign of shifting.
Too slow.
I was on him before his spine could finish reshaping. My foot connected with his ribs, the impact shuddering up my leg. The force sent him flying backward, his body tearing through the underbrush like a stone hurled from a sling. Wood splintered—one tree, two, three—before he finally crumpled in a heap of broken branches and scattered leaves.
"Argg!!! Who are you?!" His voice was a ragged snarl, pain and fury twisting his words.
He barely got his palms under him before I was there again. My hand closed around his throat, fingers digging into the sweat-slick skin. I lifted him until his boots kicked uselessly at the dirt, his pulse thundering against my grip like a trapped bird.
"Where is your leader?!" My voice scraped low, a sound more growl than words.
The bastard laughed—a choked, gurgling noise.
Heat flared behind my ribs. My fingers tightened. His eyes bulged, veins standing out in his temples as his face darkened. His lips parted, but no sound ca out.
No more laughter now.
I slamd him into the ground. The earth trembled under the force, leaves scattering from the impact. "Arggggg!!" His scream cut off the instant my fist struck the base of his skull—one sharp, efficient blow. His body went slack, his limbs splayed like a broken doll’s.
The cuffs snapped shut around his wrists with a crisp *click*. Magic pulsed through the tal, and his body shrank back to human form, his unconscious face pale and slack.
I didn’t waste a second.
The forest blurred as I sprinted back, my paws barely skimming the ground. The wind whipped past my ears, carrying the distant rustle of Ace’s movents sowhere to my right.
Philip was waiting where we’d left him, leaning against a gnarled oak with his arms crossed. Ace stood beside him, golden eyes glinting in the moonlight like twin embers.
"Both of you are fast," Philip said, his voice edged with sothing between admiration and impatience. His fingers drumd against his bicep—restless energy barely contained.
Ace didn’t smile. "We need to move." The command in his voice was iron, unyielding.
Philip and I locked eyes for half a heartbeat—a silent exchange. His jaw tightened, but he gave a sharp nod.
Whatever ca next, we were ready.
•Thunoa Village [Chief Gareth’s house]•
Ovelia’s POV
The mattress crunched softly beneath as I turned for what felt like the hundredth ti. Moonlight stread through the window shutters, painting silver stripes across the rough wooden floor. Ann’s steady breathing beside had finally evened out - or so I thought until her hand found mine in the darkness.
"Are you still worried about Sir Ace, Ray and Philip?" Ann’s whisper cut through the quiet like a knife through fresh bread. Her fingers tightened around mine.
I rolled onto my side to face her, the coarse linen sheets rasping against my nightdress. "Yes," I admitted, my voice catching on the single syllable. The admission made my throat tighten. "And the reinforcents still haven’t co. I know how strong they are but..." My fingers plucked nervously at the quilt’s stitching. "This feeling won’t go away."
Ann shifted closer until I could see the determined set of her jaw in the dim light. "Of course you’re worried," she said, her thumb rubbing comforting circles on my wrist. "Especially since you’re falling for Sir Ace." A knowing smile played at her lips. "But we have to trust them. They’ll co back to us."
Heat flooded my cheeks as my hand flew to my chest of its own accord. The traitorous organ beneath my ribs hamred wildly at just the ntion of his na. In the safety of darkness, I didn’t deny it. How could I, when every thought of him sent my pulse racing?
"Lady Ovelia," Ann’s voice turned unexpectedly serious, "what exactly do you feel for Sir Ace?"
The question hit like a splash of cold water. I stiffened, my fingers freezing mid-motion on the quilt. The warmth in my cheeks spread down my neck, surely visible even in the faint light.
"I... I don’t have the words," I managed after a long pause, turning my face toward the shadowed ceiling. The rough-hewn beams above seed to sway as my vision blurred with unshed tears.
Ann’s sudden grin shone white in the darkness. "This afternoon," she began, her voice dancing with barely contained glee, "when I saw you after Sir Ace left your room..." She paused dramatically. "Your eyes were brighter than the sumr sun. You looked like soone who’s finally understood love."
My breath caught. She’d heard. She must have heard everything - every whispered confession, every hesitant admission. The realization sent fresh heat coursing through , my fingers twisting the sheets in frantic circles.
Ann..." My voice erged strained, barely more than a whisper. I fixed my gaze on a knot in the ceiling wood, as though the answers I sought might be hidden in its whorls. "When I realized my feelings... Every smile he gives , every ti he speaks my na, every mont he pulls close..." My throat constricted, the words catching. "When he leaves, this sadness lingers. Ann, I think I might already—"
Ann’s hand closed over mine, stilling my frantic movents. "I’m happy for you," she said softly. Then her tone turned serious, her grip firm. "But you should let Sir Ace hear those words first." Her eyes searched mine in the dim light. "And prepare your heart, my lady. Love isn’t without pain. If it hurts, you mustn’t let that stop you from—"
A sharp rap at the window shutter made us both jump. The sound echoed through the quiet room like a hamr strike, freezing the words on my lips.
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