Tangled Fates

Chapter 3 Rath

**** edited 7/23/2024****

We traveled in wolf form, our hides carrying enchanted steel that shifted with us. Blades and armor, hidden in our form. Every sense within me sharpened, honed to a keen edge by years of training and ruling. We were drawing near the small town that the rogue had mentioned and Zander was there. I could feel it in the marrow of my bones.

My golden eyes pierced the darkness, probing for any sign of malice lurking amongst the trees. The rogue may have said that it was unwatched, but to hell if I would trust his word. So we stayed alert and kept pushing through the dense forest. The air was thick and heavy, moisture lay within its clarity. By morning, the fog would be thick in these parts.

As we continued our approach towards Zander's base, the seconds stretched out into hours; the tension coiling around us like a serpent waiting to strike. But patience is the ally of the hunter, and I am nothing if not patient.

Just like the rogue said, something was masking them. One moment, the forest smelled of pine and wood, and the next it was the smell of rot. Rogues.

"Alpha?" Caleb mind-link, his voice a taut string ready to snap.

"This must be what the rogue was talking about." Though I didn't know what being could hide an area of rotten rogues from trained wolves looking for them. "Alright everyone, we are in rogue territory. If you engage in battle, assess your opponent's age. As I have already informed you, there is a possibility that some of these fighters are younglings. Let's try to bring them home if we can."

We moved with predatory grace, shadows among shadows, our steps muted by the damp earth beneath us. This will be the night we end all of this.

"Close." The word was a snarl that spilled into the mind-link. Elijah, ever the silent tracker, nodded, his eyes reflecting the moonlight with a wolfish gleam. We were moments away from confrontation, and my blood sang with the promise of vengeance.

The trees gave way to the desolate expanse of what was once a town—a place where laughter had echoed and life had thrived over a hundred years ago. No pack lived here anymore, but rogues infested the place.

My pack fanned out behind me, their bodies tense, ready for the violence we were born to inflict. The ruins loomed before us, hiding the vermin we sought. In the distance, rogue shapes slinked through the wreckage, a blight upon the land. It ended here, with us, with me—Rath Everhart, The Alpha King.

"Brothers, sisters," I mind-linked, "Tonight, we fight not just for Silvermoon, but for every soul that has suffered under Zander's tyranny!"

They responded with a ferocious howl, a symphony of wrath that filled the night air, echoing off the crumbling walls. We charged, a tidal wave of fury crashing into the ranks of rogue wolves.

Steel clashed against steel, fang against claws, a cacophonous ring that served as the overture to our deadly dance. My claws unsheathed, extending like the final judgment upon those who would dare stand before us. The gleam of my fangs reflected in the moonlight, each snap and bite a sentence passed down upon the guilty.

A rogue lunged at me, eyes wild with madness, but I was swifter—deadlier. With a deft move, I sidestepped and shifted to human form. I brought my sword down in a swift arc, severing the connection between beast and life. His body buckled, collapsing into a heap of defeated flesh and bone. A hollow emptiness echoed within me, my heart pounding in the eerie silence that followed. I stared down at him, unblinking, numb to the world around me. My thoughts swirled with a chilling indifference that seemed to consume every fiber of my being. There was no room for mercy within me.