Page 63 of Empowering the Wolf's Heart

We found a trail of carnage. Elves—dark elves, by the look of their dark hair and scars in the place of eyebrows—were slain. It was a ruthless, calculated attacked. Most still had surprise in their eyes as they stared up at the sky with slit throats.

The pathway diverged. “You guys take that trail, I’ll take this one,” I said.

“Is it wise to split up with something like this on the loose?” Brandt asked, his eyes showing a hint of fear.

“Maybe, but I’m not going to risk losing the trail this time.”

Understanding dawned in Brandt’s eyes. “You think this is the work of Hood?”

“It screams of him. Now go, we can’t lose him again,” I said.

My heart rate picked up as I followed the trail made by a huge werewolf. A twig crunched beneath my foot and I winced. I hadn’t gone a hundred yards when I heard a strangled yell. I quickened my pace.

A bear-sized black werewolf was struggling with an elf. The werewolf had a white-tipped tail. Did it also have white on the haunches? I saw something that could’ve been, but then the werewolf turned and I lost sight of the white.

It was close enough. It had to be him.

I grinned, not caring that I showed my white teeth. I’d found him. And he was going to be mine this night.

He snarled as he bowled the elf over and snapped his fangs around the elf’s throat. He shook and the elf fell lifelessly to the ground at his paws.

I came into the clearing just as he turned from werewolf to man. But it was… painful. The bones broke and rebroke, sometimes reforming into human bones and other times going back to wolf. It was almost as if the wolf and human were fighting for dominance. I couldn’t say how long it took, but his harsh breaths filled with air and a hint of sympathy filled me at his plight. His shoulders were wide beneath the cloak. He turned his head and sniffed.

“Come out,” he said, his voice tired. I knew that voice.

“Who are you?” I whispered, standing at the edge of a precipice with no one to save me.

Iknewhim. But he wasn’t the one I expected.

He stood and turned slowly with his hands up as if he meant me no harm. I knew better. He was a killer. An assassin.

“You killed my grandpa, prepare to die—” I choked on my words as he turned fully. My blade nearly fell from my hand. “Fen?” I whispered. Shen’s friend who acted more like his brother? The one who was all smiles and laughter and looked as if he couldn’t hurt a fly?Hewas Hood?

He gave a tired smile and a tiny salute. “Hello again, Miss Alia. Miss me?”

I hissed out a breath. As I looked closer, though, I saw something else beneath the blood and dirt. I saw a boy who was in chains, his eyes hardened at the treatment of the Reds.

“Who are you?” I whispered, horror curdling my gut.

“I am the one you freed that night. And I will ever be in your debt because of it.”

“But you killed my grandpa?”

He shook his head, a wince crossing his face. “I’m sorry about your grandpa. Truly.”

“Do you still hunt Reds?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Only those who deserve it.”

“Why did you not kill me that night?” I finally asked. The night I spoke of was soon after I’d bonded with Ran, and I’d let every single creature held by the Reds for training go because I couldn’t handle more pain. He didn’t kill me when he had the chance, despite there being every reason to take blood for blood.

Fen ran a hand through his hair, his eyes sad and weary. “There was too much killing. I was done.”

I bowed my head. “A life for a life.” My voice was hard and unyielding as I told him what would happen when I saw him again. “Go,” I hissed out through clenched teeth.

Fen nodded, nearly bowed, then disappeared into the underbrush.

Something rustled in the brush behind me. I turned with blades outstretched. Graham and Brandt stood there with wide eyes, watching where the werewolf had disappeared.

---