The mist rolled in just before sunrise. Thick, gray, unnatural.
Selene stood at the edge of the eastern border, her senses on high alert. She hadn't meant to wake so early, but the air had felt wrong again — heavy, like something old had stirred.
And now she could barely see past ten feet.
She gripped the hilt of her blade and stepped forward, the ground soft beneath her boots. The trees loomed like shadows, and every branch creak sounded like a whisper.
Somewhere in the distance, a howl broke the silence.
Not a BloodMoon howl.
A stranger's.
Low. Wounded. Wrong.
She crouched, scanned the terrain, then moved toward the sound. Her footsteps were silent, her breath steady. The fog curled around her like fingers trying to pull her back.
Selene didn't scare easy, but even she could admit — this felt like a trap.
She reached a small clearing near the creek and saw movement.
A body.
Limp. Half-shifted. Bleeding.
Male.
She didn't recognize the scent.
He was rogue.
Cautiously, she approached, eyes darting to the treeline. When she knelt beside him, she saw the deep slash across his chest and the telltale poison running through his veins.
Wolfsbane.
His lips moved.
"Help…"
Selene leaned in.
"Who did this?"
The rogue coughed blood. "Didn't… see. Just eyes. Gold. Burning. No scent."
Selene's spine went cold.
A wolf without scent? Impossible. Unless it wasn't a wolf at all. Or unless they were masking it.
"Why were you in BloodMoon territory?" she asked.
He coughed again. "They said… they'd find me. That I had to run. That she was coming…"
"Who's she?"
He looked at Selene, fear painted across his fading eyes.
"The White Wolf."
Then his body went still.
Dead.
Selene sat back, heart thudding.
The White Wolf?
A myth. A ghost story spies whispered about. A woman who could tear through whole packs without leaving a trace. No scent. No sound. Just death.
Selene had never believed in her.
Until now.
She stood quickly and scanned the fog.
Too quiet.
She needed to get back. Fast.
But as she turned, a shadow moved behind a tree. Just out of reach.
She drew her blade.
"I know you're there," she said.
Silence.
Then — a whisper, faint but chilling.
"So do I."
Selene spun around, but no one was there.
Just fog.
And the sound of something running through the woods.
She chased it, leaping over roots and ducking under branches. But the deeper she went, the colder the air grew.
Then it stopped.
Everything stopped.
No wind. No movement. No sound.
Selene turned slowly, and in the clearing ahead, she saw a figure.
Female. Cloaked in white. Face hidden. Not running. Waiting.
Selene tightened her grip on the blade and stepped forward. But in the blink of an eye, the figure vanished. No movement. No scent. Gone.
Selene stood there for a long time, chest heaving, thoughts racing. Then she turned and ran back to the packhouse.
She had to tell Kael.
Even if she didn't trust him fully.
Even if she didn't trust herself.
Because whatever was happening in BloodMoon territory — it was bigger than spies and rebels.
Something darker was coming.
And Selene had a feeling she was already too late.