C7 The Hunted

The forest remained deathly still in the wake of Varian’s departure. Evelyne could still feel the ghost of his presence, a shadow lingering in her mind. She forced herself to steady her breathing, but the weight of his words clung to her like mist.

Lucien’s voice cut through the silence. "We need to move. Now." Evelyne nodded, swallowing down the uncertainty pressing against her ribs. "Where to?" "Away from here," Lucien said, scanning the darkness between the trees. "Varian doesn’t come alone. If he’s shown himself, others will follow." A prickle of unease danced along Evelyne’s spine. "Others?"

Lucien started walking, fast and quiet, his steps barely disturbing the earth beneath him. "Warlocks don’t work alone. "He’s testing you, but he won’t wait long before making his next move." Evelyne matched his pace, her senses stretching outward. The air smelled different now, tainted with something sickly sweet and cloying. She had smelled it once before—when she found the ruins of a burned village, the remnants of dark magic thick in the air.

They weren’t alone. Lucien stopped abruptly, his body rigid. "Run." A howl split the night. Not a wolf’s. Something is wrong. Evelyne’s instincts screamed at her. She bolted, her legs carrying her through the dense forest as shadows twisted at the edges of her vision. Lucien was just ahead, his movements fluid, but urgent. Branches snapped behind them, guttural growls closing in.

She risked a glance back. Figures moved between the trees—distorted shapes, their limbs unnatural, their eyes glowing with a sickly green light. Warlock thralls. Lucien cursed. "Faster!" A surge of energy coiled inside Evelyne’s chest, the beast within her stirring, urging her to fight. To turn. To hunt. But she wasn’t ready. Not yet. A sharp crack exploded behind her, and suddenly, Lucien was gone.

Evelyne skidded to a stop, her heart hammering. "Lucien?" No answer. The night stretched around her, vast and suffocating. Panic clawed at her throat. Then she heard it—a low, pained growl. Lucien was down. And the thralls were closing in. Evelyne took a slow breath, her fingers tightening into fists. Ready or not, she wasn’t about to let them take him.

Evelyne’s pulse thundered in her ears as she sprinted toward the place where Lucien had vanished. The scent of his blood tainted the air, sharp and coppery, mixing with the foul stench of warlock magic. She broke through the undergrowth and found him sprawled against a fallen tree, his body tense with pain. A dark, jagged wound marred his side, pulsing with an eerie green glow.

"Lucien!" Evelyne dropped to her knees beside him, her hands hovering over the wound. "What happened?" Lucien’s breath came in short gasps. "Spellbound blade," he gritted out. "They poisoned it." A guttural snarl ripped through the trees, too close. Evelyne spun around just as one of the warlock thralls lunged. Its body was twisted, its mouth stretched too wide with jagged, unnatural teeth. She barely had time to react before instinct took over.

Her dagger was in her hand before she realized she had drawn it. The thrall swiped at her, claws slicing through the air, but she ducked and drove the blade into its chest. It shrieked, the unearthly sound rattling through her bones, but it wasn’t enough. The creature shoved her back, sending her skidding across the damp earth. More of them loomed in the darkness, their glowing eyes like specters in the night.

Lucien struggled to push himself up. "You have to go." Evelyne met his gaze, defiance flaring in her chest. "Not without you." The thralls circled them, their snarls rising in a crescendo. The magic in the air thickened, pressing against her skin. She felt the wolf inside her stir, clawing at the edges of her control. The full moon wasn’t near, but something was different. Stronger.

"Evelyne…" Lucien’s voice was strained, but his eyes widened as he looked at her. "Your eyes—" A deep, primal heat flared in her veins, and suddenly, she knew. She didn’t need the moon. The first thrall lunged again, and this time, she didn’t reach for her blade. She let the wolf take over. Pain lanced through her, white-hot and electric, as her bones shifted, her muscles burned, and her senses exploded. She felt the power rush through her, a tidal wave of fury and instinct.

When she opened her eyes again, the thralls hesitated. Evelyne bared her fangs. Then, she attacked. Evelyne’s vision was sharper, the world unfolding in perfect clarity as she tore into the nearest thrall. The creature barely had time to react before her claws raked across its chest, splitting through flesh like parchment. It howled, but she was already moving, her body a blur of instinct and fury.

Lucien, still slumped against the fallen tree, stared at her through labored breaths. "You… shifted," he rasped, wonder and concern battling in his voice. "Without the full moon." Evelyne barely heard him. The wolf inside her had taken hold, and it was hungry. Another thrall lunged, but she was faster. She met it mid-air, her jaws closing around its throat. The taste of dark magic flooded her tongue, bitter and wrong, but she didn’t relent. With a savage shake, she sent the creature crashing into a tree, its body going limp.

The remaining thralls hesitated, their unnatural green eyes flickering with something akin to fear. Evelyne growled, a deep, primal sound that echoed through the night. Then, the shadows thickened. A sharp, crackling energy filled the air, and suddenly, the thralls were no longer alone. A figure emerged from the darkness, his silver eyes gleaming with amusement.

Varian. "Impressive," the warlock mused, his gaze sweeping over Evelyne’s transformed form. "I wondered when you would embrace it." Evelyne’s lips curled back in a snarl, her fangs bared. "You should have run when you had the chance." Varian chuckled. "Run? My dear, I orchestrated this." With a flick of his wrist, the fallen thralls twitched. Then, impossibly, they rose. Their broken bodies snapped back into motion, their wounds knitting together with unnatural speed.

Evelyne’s hackles rose. Dark magic pulsed in the air, stronger than before. Lucien struggled to his feet, his face pale but his determination unwavering. "He’s reanimating them." "Indeed," Varian said smoothly. "And unlike you, dear Evelyne, my magic does not rely on the moon." The thralls advanced again, moving in eerie synchronization. Evelyne braced herself, her claws digging into the earth. The fight wasn’t over. It had only just begun.