Chapter 3 — Shadows of the Past

Kael

The Bloodpine Forest exhaled its oppressive presence as Kael watched the retreating creature’s silhouette dissolve into the mist. He lowered his clawed hands, flexing his fingers slowly, feeling the faint tremor of the curse humming beneath his skin. It had responded to the creature, recognized it as kin in some distant, twisted way. The thought made his stomach churn, a bitter reminder of what he was becoming.

Kael’s gaze flicked to Alana, standing rigid with her silver blade still raised, her sharp amber eyes scanning the forest. She looked like she was carved from the same primal defiance as the Bloodpine itself, her wolf-fur cloak catching the faint moonlight, her scars seeming to pulse faintly against her skin. Her breath came shallow and quick, but her stance remained unyielding. She was ferocity incarnate.

But Kael could see what she wouldn’t admit. Her hand, though steady, trembled just enough to betray her exhaustion. And then there was the boy—cowering behind her, his small body shaking as he clung to the hem of her cloak. His wide, tear-filled eyes darted between them, reflecting a fear that cut deeper than the forest’s claws. That boy had been marked, and they both knew it.

Kael spoke first, his voice low, gravelly, and cutting through the heavy silence. “You should have left the forest days ago. But here you are, bleeding, dragging a child into your mess.”

Alana’s head snapped toward him, her amber gaze narrowing into a blade. “You made it clear you’re not part of this,” she said, her tone sharp and biting. “So why are you still here?”

He didn’t answer immediately, stepping into the clearing with slow, deliberate movements that made the boy flinch and press closer to Alana. Kael ignored the child, letting his gaze bore into her. “Because someone needs to make sure you don’t get yourself killed.”

Alana scoffed softly, though the sound was more growl than laugh. “I don’t need your help.”

Kael tilted his head, studying her. The boy clutched her cloak tighter, a trembling shadow at her side. Kael’s voice dropped, cold as the air between them. “You don’t need my help?” His silver gaze flashed, sharp as the blade in her hand. “Tell that to the creature that almost gutted you. Or to the boy you’re about to get killed.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, but the tension in her jaw betrayed the war being waged behind her eyes. It was a war he knew well—the pull of pride battling with the weight of guilt. She’d always been like this, years ago when they had fought side by side: resolute to the point of recklessness. It was what had drawn him to her then, and what now filled him with fury.

Finally, she spoke, softer but no less steady. “He’s marked.” Her fingers were careful as she crouched beside the boy, lifting his bruised arm to reveal the faint rune etched into his skin. The symbol pulsed faintly, its edges curling like a twisted vine, alive with an unnatural glow. “This isn’t coincidence. Someone put him here for a reason.”

Kael’s jaw tightened as he knelt to examine the mark. The rune’s glow reminded him of things he had tried to forget—things the curse refused to let him bury. The air around the boy felt heavy, the dark magic emanating from the symbol prickling at Kael’s skin. It was insidious, coiling through the air like smoke from a dying fire.

“It’s a binding rune,” Kael murmured, the words bitter on his tongue. “Whoever put this on him didn’t just leave him here to die. They tethered him to something.”

“To the Skulls.” Alana’s voice was resolute, her certainty unwavering. Her scars shimmered faintly again, as though echoing the power in the boy’s mark. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Kael straightened, his silver eyes narrowing as he scanned the forest. The mist swirled lazily, but the trees beyond it felt watchful, alive. “Then he’s bait,” he said, the weight of the statement settling heavily on his shoulders. “Whoever did this knew it would draw you.”

The words cut through the stillness, sharp and undeniable. Alana stiffened, the implication sinking in. Her gaze flicked momentarily to the boy, as though searching for answers she knew she wouldn’t find.

“And you?” she asked suddenly, her voice edged with suspicion. “Why are you really here, Kael? You didn’t just stumble into this.”

Kael’s gaze snapped back to her, his expression unreadable. For a moment, the oppressive sounds of the forest seemed to fade, leaving only the weight of her question hanging between them. He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders, the curse thrumming beneath his skin like a caged animal.

“I’m here because the curse doesn’t let me stay away,” he said finally, his voice raw with something unspoken. “I thought I could walk away, leave it all behind. But it doesn’t work like that. The Skulls don’t let go.”

Alana’s amber eyes searched his, a flicker of mistrust softening into something more conflicted. The boy whimpered quietly, his small hands trembling as they clutched at her cloak. She sighed and knelt again, brushing her fingers gently through his messy hair in an attempt to comfort him. Her whispered reassurances were soft, but the boy’s ragged breaths didn’t slow.

Kael stepped closer, his presence looming over the two of them. His voice was soft but unyielding. “You can’t save him,” he said. “The mark on him—it’s not something you can just erase. Whoever bound him to the Skulls didn’t leave him a way out.”

Alana glanced up sharply, her jaw tightening. “That’s not your decision to make.”

“It’s not a decision,” Kael snapped, his voice rising just enough to match her defiance. “It’s reality. You think a blade and some salve can fix this? You’re fighting a curse older than both of us combined.”

Her glare could have cut stone. “Then maybe I’ll fight it anyway.”

The words hung in the air, defiant and unshakable. Kael exhaled sharply, his frustration bubbling to the surface. Before he could stop himself, his hand shot out to grip her arm—not roughly, but firm enough to force her to face him. “And when you lose?” he demanded, his voice quieter but no less intense. “When the Skulls take you, too? What then, Alana? Who do you think you’re doing this for?”

Her amber eyes blazed, and she yanked her arm free. “For the ones who can’t fight back,” she said through gritted teeth. “For my pack. For—” She stopped short, the words catching in her throat. Something raw and fragile flickered across her expression before she turned away, pulling the boy closer as though he could shield her from Kael’s words.

Kael stepped back, his expression hardening as the familiar sting of rejection settled in his chest. “You’re going to get yourself killed,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with resignation. “And this time, no one will be there to pull you out.”

Alana didn’t respond. She rose to her feet, adjusting her cloak with deliberate precision. “I don’t need saving,” she said firmly, her voice carrying the weight of finality. “Not from you.”

For a moment, Kael said nothing, his silver eyes locked on her with an intensity that could have melted steel. Then, without another word, he turned and stepped into the mist, his dark silhouette dissolving into the shadows.

“The forest won’t show mercy,” he said over his shoulder, his voice fading with him. “Neither will the curse.”

And then he was gone.

Alana adjusted the boy’s trembling grip on her arm and took a slow, steadying breath. The Bloodpine exhaled cold and damp around her, its breath alive with the promise of more danger. Kael’s words lingered in her mind like a thorn, but she shook them off, forcing her focus forward.

The forest wasn’t done with her yet. And it wouldn’t take this boy—not while she still stood.