A BRUTAL RECKONING

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CAELAN

20 years later...

The moon hung heavy in the sky, a glowing sentinel against the darkness, casting its cold light over the forest. The air was thick with the scent of pine, moss, and blood. So much blood. It pooled at my feet, soaking into the earth, leaving the once peaceful clearing a battlefield. The rogues lay broken around me, their bodies twisted and mangled, a testament to their failure. This was my work. Cold, brutal, efficient.

They hadn't seen me coming. Not really.

I had stalked them through the dense trees, my movements silent, my senses sharp. Each step had been calculated; every breath controlled. I could hear their hearts beating erratically, the rapid rise and fall of their lungs, the hushed murmurs of panic as they realized they were being hunted. By the time they knew it was me, it was already too late.

The first one had been swift, a blur of motion as I tore into him from behind. His spine cracked under my grip; his howl cut short as I snapped his neck. I barely registered his death before moving on to the next. This one had tried to fight, his claws slicing through the air in a desperate attempt to stop me. I grabbed him by the throat, slamming him into the ground so hard the earth shook beneath us. His bones shattered on impact, his body crumpling under my weight as I tore his throat open with a single motion.

I didn't hesitate. Didn't pause to savor the kill. This wasn't about glory or satisfaction. It was about precision. Efficiency. I had been hired to eliminate them, and that's what I did.

I turned to the third rogue, a hulking mass of fur and muscle. He snarled, his eyes wide with rage and fear. He lunged at me, teeth bared, aiming for my throat. Foolish. I caught him mid-air, his momentum throwing him off balance as I twisted his body, snapping his leg with a sickening crack. His howl of agony echoed through the clearing, but I silenced it quickly, sinking my hand into his chest and ripping out his heart.

The last rogue was smarter than the others. He didn't attack immediately. He backed away, his eyes wide, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he realized what was happening. He knew who I was. They all did.

He made a run for it, his body shifting into wolf form as he sprinted toward the tree line. I gave him a head start, allowing him to think he could escape. I could smell his fear, thick and pungent in the air, mixing with the blood of his fallen packmates. He thought he could outrun me.

I moved faster than the eye could track, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat. His body jerked in surprise as I appeared in front of him, my crimson eyes locking onto his. For a moment, there was silence. Just the sound of his rapid breathing, his heartbeat pounding in his chest like a drum.

And then I struck.

My fist collided with his ribcage, the force of the blow sending him crashing to the ground, forcing him to shift back into his human form. He coughed, blood spilling from his mouth as he struggled to stand, but I was already on him. I grabbed his head, forcing him to look up at me, his eyes wide with terror.

"Who sent you?" I asked, my voice low and cold.

He choked, his mouth moving but no sound coming out. Pathetic.

I tightened my grip, feeling the bones in his skull begin to crack under the pressure. "Who sent you?" I repeated, my tone deadly.

"A-a rival pack," he finally rasped, his voice barely a whisper. "They... they paid us..."

"Which pack?" I demanded, but the light in his eyes was already fading. His body went limp in my hands, the life draining from him as his heart finally gave out.

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