•Northwest Thunoa Forest•
Ace's POV
The forest hummed with tension around us. The coppery scent of fresh blood mixed with the damp earth beneath our boots, clinging to the back of my throat. We'd just subdued another group of werewolf bandits, their unconscious forms now bound with the same black magic chains that seemed to drink in the fading light. The chains pulsed faintly against my palms as I tightened the last restraint, their unnatural chill seeping through my gloves.
I straightened, rolling my stiff shoulders. Still no sign of the witch. My claws twitched at my sides, restless.
A flicker of movement caught my attention. My head snapped toward the twelve o'clock position, ears swiveling forward. Through the dense foliage, a faint orange glow pulsed between the trees—too steady to be fireflies, too dim to be a proper campfire.
