LUCAS
What the hell is this?
Our fur bristles, but we can't linger on the shock of the mont.
The green circle pulses with an otherworldly glow, yet Aurum's paw passes through it as if it's nothing but air. No scent, no resistance.
Magic. Obviously.
Our attention turns to the bodies. There's sothing strange about them. Bloated, decaying, but sohow devoid of… bugs.
It's unnatural.
Unnatural, Aurum agrees with a growl. His agitation is high in here. Desecrated.
The stench of death fills my nose, but beneath it... Pack. My pack.
These bodies…
Yes, Aurum confirms. Pack.
Their faces, bloated and discolored though they are, are recognizable. Pack lost at different tis in these past few months. The initial attack at Westwood. During the strange invasions. And more.
My feet carry around the circle. Each step reveals another familiar face. Another pack mber I failed to protect.
Five bodies total are pack. All who should have been laid to rest with proper rites, their spirits released to run free with the moon.
Instead, they're here. Defiled. Used for so sick ritual that makes want to howl with rage.
The green circle pulses again, mocking us. Aurum wants to tear through the walls, hunt down every bloodsucker responsible for this desecration. But I force myself to stay focused, to morize every detail.
They were preserved sohow. Kept from fully decomposing. We've seen so of our wolves brought back to life in so strange way, used as a zombie army; is this how it begins?
Or have they outlived their usefulness?
Too many questions. Too few answers.
Beneath the bodies we know, partially hidden, lie others. Fresher ones. Maybe humans. Maybe wolves from other packs.
But one thing remains constant. There's a strange mark on all of them. Strange, interlocked circles. An arm here. A chest there. One has it on their face.
All semi-preserved in this unnatural state.
Aurum's rage simrs, mirroring my own.
The green circle flares. For a split second, the air fills with the taste of copper and rot. Then nothing. But the bodies... the bodies are gone.
Son of a bitch.
Track the scent!
My orders whip out through the pack bond, even as I know it's too late. Whatever this is, it won't be that easy to find our lost people.
A snarl rips from my throat, echoing Aurum's fury. Every instinct screams to chase after our pack mbers, to track down whoever dared desecrate their bodies. But we can't afford to lose focus now.
The spot where the green circle pulsed now shows bare ground, as if nothing supernatural ever happened here.
Even the scent of decay and death is gone.
We catalog the scents, but so much of it has disappeared, as if it never existed. Death. Decay. Magic that burns my nose. And underneath it all, a sickly-sweet vampire stench. All gone.
Alpha. We can't catch the trail.
I figured as much, but won't give up that easily. Keep looking. Keep your noses to the ground.
But after ten minutes of thodical searching, the truth becos clear. Whatever magic whisked the bodies away left no trace for us to follow.
Vester's contact makes my ntal ears itch. We are here. Signs of attack everywhere. A lot of blood.
Another growl builds in our chest. Aurum's rage goes cold. Casualties?
No bodies. No people. It's completely empty. We can see claw marks, broken buildings. But no bodies, living or dead. The entire camp's been cleared out.
Aurum rumbles as we finally escape the sod house. Jericho would not leave so easily.
Perhaps.
Hold position, I tell Vester, already gathering my party. We're heading your way.
* * *
Jericho's camp is as empty and ravaged as Vester reported. Unlike the sod house, though, there's a lot of scent to wade through.
Still no sign of Ryder, but we can find traces of Jericho and his vampires.
The scents paint a picture of chaos. Blood. Fear. Rage. Death lingers beneath it all, a stench that burns my nose and makes my wolf snarl.
Vampire-scent is abundant, but it's impossible to tell if it's from friend or foe.
One of the wolves checks in. Alpha. Found traces of Jericho's scent leading north, but it vanishes at the tree line.
Our team is spread out, thodically checking every corner. The vampires have left their stink everywhere. But underneath...
There's sothing else. Sothing familiar that makes my skin prickle. I follow it down a hallway we've already cleared, past overturned furniture and shattered windows.
The scent grows stronger in what used to be a bedroom. A few books litter the floor, pages torn and scattered. A strange thing to find, I'd think. We don't have many books at Wolf's Landing. They don't rank high on the survival priority list.
We already cleared this room. Vester follows , his ears pricked forward in curiosity.
Ignoring him, I circle the room, letting Aurum take over.
It's faint, but it's there. Ozone and lightning. The air before a storm.
Magic.
Claws click against the wooden floor as I follow its trail to the pile of destroyed books. Beneath the heap, sothing pulses with energy. Not the sickly green corruption from the sod house, but sothing older. Ancient.
It reminds of Ava's magic. I can't always sense it, but sotis I can sll it.
Aurum recedes into the back of my head as I shift back to sift through the pile. Without his nose, the scent fades into obscurity.
None of the books seem particularly special. They look like the kinds of books you'd find near the checkout of major stores—at least, before the electronic generation.
Thrillers. Murder mysteries. Basic paperbacks that have been torn apart.
One even has a half-naked man on the cover with so trivial title.
Thumbing through them provides no more clarity. Maybe the magic origin is in the floor?
"Can you sll this?" I ask Vester. who's still watching .
He shakes his head with a soft snort. What are you looking for? It just slls like books to .
After the fifth book I thumb through, a folded piece of paper falls to the ground.
Opening it reveals a few strange symbols. They shimr like oil instead of ink, and are foreign to .
Maybe Ava will know what it ans.
I tuck the paper into my backpack and pull out my watch. My fingers tap the familiar pattern to connect with my mate.
Nothing happens.
The screen stays dark. No static, no interference—just dead air.
"That's not right." I try the sequence again, slower this ti. The watch face remains lifeless, a black mirror reflecting my frown.
The emptiness of the room presses in, making my skin crawl. Sothing about this whole situation stinks worse than vampire corruption.
I switch channels, attempting to reach Kellan instead. Sa result. The silence mocks .
"Co on." My jaw tightens as I try Lisa's frequency. Then Marcus. Then the general ergency channel. Each attempt ets the sa wall of nothing.
The watch has never failed before. We tested it extensively, have been using them for ages. This can't be a simple malfunction.
"Vester." My voice carries through the building. "Get back here."
He appears in the doorway, ears perked at my tone. What is it?
"The watch isn't working. I can't reach anyone at Wolf's Landing."
His eyes narrow. Try mine.
I take his offered watch, but the result is the sa. Dead air across all channels.
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