Page 21

CHAPTER 21

L ia

The journey south stretched on for days.

We moved carefully, covering ground as quickly as we could while keeping our senses sharp. Every step took us deeper into unknown territory, into land where nothing felt right.

The silence was what unsettled me the most.

There were no birds. No rustling of small animals in the undergrowth. No distant howls of wolves that should have been hunting these forests.

There was just nothing.

Only the wind, whispering through the trees like a warning.

By the fourth day, the kills became more frequent. The first few carcasses had been scattered along our path, the remains of deer, elk, smaller creatures. Their bodies were stripped, flesh torn away, emptied of blood. It wasn’t clean or precise; it was savage.

The farther south we traveled, the bigger the bodies became. Moose and bears were more frequent, ripped apart and drained dry like the rest of them.

By the eighth day, we found a horse. It had been drained, completely dry. The body was intact—no shredded limbs, no deep wounds. Just pale, papery skin pulled tight over hollow bones, its lifeless eyes bulging from its skull.

That was the first time I saw fear flicker in everyone’s eyes.

On the ninth day, we found the ravine.

It wasn’t on the maps. It was hidden, tucked away behind miles of jagged cliffs and dense pine forests, a place untouched by sunlight for centuries. The only reason we even found it was because of what appeared to be a rockslide.

Rowan spotted it first, an entire section of stone that had collapsed inward, creating a steep path down into what looked like an isolated valley. At first, it just looked like a wound in the mountainside—jagged rock and loose debris, layers of old stone split apart from whatever collapse had happened here—but as we moved closer, picking our way carefully over the uneven ground, it soon became clear that this wasn’t just a rockslide.

It had revealed an entrance.

Silas stopped first, raising a hand to halt the rest of us. I could feel the tension rolling off him, his shoulders stiff, his golden eyes scanning the mouth of the cave like he was listening for something.

Rowan exhaled slowly, shifting beside him. “That’s not just a cave.”

Varek moved forward, crouching near the entrance, his fingers brushing over the edge of the exposed stone. He frowned, studying the way the rocks had crumbled inward, the unnatural smoothness of some of the broken surfaces.

“This was built,” he muttered. “This was a mine.”

I took a slow step forward, peering into the darkness, my heart hammering. The cave stretched deep, the blackness inside absolute. There was no light, no movement, no sound, but I knew something was in there.

We all did.

“This isn’t a mine,” Rowan said, his voice grim. “It’s a tomb. Our tomb.”

A chill ran down my spine.

Silas was still staring into the abyss, his expression inscrutable. Then he inhaled sharply, exhaling through his nose.

“They’re in there,” he said.

Varek smirked. “Well, that’s why we came all this way, isn’t it?”

No one answered; we knew what came next. We had to go inside. We had to find them, and somehow, we had to capture one. The only solace was that we weren’t going into that mine tonight, not without a plan and not this late in the day.

The anxiety in the group was palpable as we pulled back, retreating a mile up the rocky terrain to find a place safe enough to make camp for the night.

It wasn’t much, just a flat clearing tucked against the cliff side, half-sheltered by an overhang of rock. The air was still heavy with the scent of damp stone and old rot, but at least here we had a defensible position. The trees thinned enough that nothing could sneak up on us as long as one of us was on watch.

The fire that Ryan made was small, more for light than warmth, flickering against the rough, uneven stone as we gathered around it. No one spoke at first.

Then Varek exhaled loudly and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Well, that’s a fucking nightmare,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, what’s the play?”

Silas sat with his elbows braced against his knees, staring into the fire. “We need to get one to come out of there.” His voice betrayed no hint of unease, but I could see the way his hands flexed slightly, like the idea of whatever was in that cave had already put his wolf on edge.

Rowan nodded. “Setting a trap outside might be our best bet. If they hunt at night, there’s a good chance one of them will come out.”

Caleb, who had been quiet for most of the journey, finally spoke. “And what if they don’t come out? We waste a night waiting for nothing.”

Silas didn’t react. He just kept staring at the fire, the amber in his eyes flickering in the light of the fire.

Varek scoffed. “So, what? You want to go inside? Into that?” He gestured toward the direction of the mine. “Seems like a terrible fucking idea.”

“It is a terrible idea,” Ryan muttered, adjusting the knife on his belt.

Hale let out a breath. “Do we have much of a choice?”

The fire crackled between us, the only sound for a long moment.

We could wait, set a trap, and try to lure one out and hope it took the bait. The longer we stayed here, though, the worse our chances became. The terrain around the mine was harsh—rocky, barren, the air thin and each night colder than the one before. There were no animals left to hunt. No clean water except what we’d carried in. The ground was too riddled with stone for anything to grow, and even the birds had stopped flying overhead.

There was nothing here.

No food. No shelter. No time .

If we waited, we’d burn through supplies in a matter of days. And if nothing came out of that cave? We’d be starving, thirsty, desperate, and still no closer to stopping what was waiting inside.

I looked around at the faces in the firelight—worn, dirty, anxious, and uncertain. Each one of us knew what the cost of going in could be.

But the cost of not going in?

That was worse.

“No,” I said quietly, cutting through the silence. “We can’t wait. We don’t have enough food, we don’t have reinforcements, and we don’t have the luxury of time. If we sit on our hands out here and hope something wanders out, we’re going to die slow—and empty-handed.”

Varek’s smirk faded. Ryan nodded grimly.

Hale shifted slightly, squaring his shoulders. “Then we go in.”

“We don’t all go inside,” Silas finally said, lifting his gaze. “We send a small team. Two or three at most. The rest wait outside, covering the exit.”

Rowan frowned. “You’re assuming they only have one exit.”

Varek’s lip curled. “Now there’s a fun thought.”

I shivered. He wasn’t wrong. These creatures weren’t mindless. They were hunters, and potentially even intelligent predators. The likelihood that this mine had multiple tunnels, multiple ways in and out: very high .

Silas exhaled through his nose, rubbing his jaw. “Then we adapt. We set up a secondary trap outside in case something tries to slip past us. The goal is to drive one out, not get cornered inside.”

Hale let out a low whistle. “And if more than one comes after us?”

Silas’s mouth turned down. “Then we make sure at least one of us gets out alive to warn the others.”

The silence that followed was heavy.

Rowan exhaled in a rush. “I’ll go in.”

Varek rolled his shoulders. “Figures. I’ll go too.”

Silas nodded, his expression resigned. “And me.”

I bristled, my fingers clenching in my lap. “I should?—”

Silas turned to me before I could finish, his lips turned down and his brows pinched together. “No.”

I scowled. “But Silas?—”

“You’re not coming.” His tone brooked no argument. “You’ll stay outside with the others.”

I opened my mouth, ready to make my case, ready to fight him on this, but then I really looked at him. His shoulders were drawn up with apprehension. He was flexing his fingers against his knee, like he was already preparing himself for what was coming. He wasn’t being overbearing or dismissing me in any way; he was protecting me.

Damn it, I hated that I understood that. I didn’t actually want to make this even harder on him. So unlike me.

I gulped down my argument and exhaled through my nose. “Fine.”

Silas’s gaze drilled into me, lingering distrust evident in his eyes, but he nodded.

“Good,” he murmured.

Ryan stood, stretching. “I’ll take first watch.”

The others muttered in agreement, shifting into place, preparing for what would likely be a long and sleepless night.

Silas shifted beside me, his fingers brushing against my arm, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Come on,” he said, nodding toward his pack. “Help me set up the tent.”

Shoving my worries aside, I pushed to my feet. The others were settling into their own spots for the night. Rowan had already started unpacking his gear, and Varek was leaning against a tree, sharpening a knife, looking far too relaxed given the circumstances.

Silas led me a few steps away from the fire, finding a relatively flat stretch of ground under the overhang of a jagged rock face. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best we were going to get in this terrain.

We worked in silence, spreading out the thick canvas, securing it with stakes and rope, moving with the quiet efficiency of two people who had done this a thousand times before.

Every so often, Silas’s hands would brush against mine as we tightened a knot, his hand strong and warm, sending little thrums of awareness through me. He didn’t say anything about it, but I knew he felt it too.

When we were finally done, he tossed the last rope aside and ran a hand through his hair. “Good enough,” he muttered.

I glanced at him, arching a brow. “Good enough? You’re very confident in your survival skills for someone who just half-assed that knot.”

Silas grunted, stepping closer, his gaze dark in the dim light. “You doubt me, Wildcat?”

I grinned, tilting my head. “I think if the wind picks up, we might end up wrapped in this thing like a burrito.”

Silas shook his head. “Get inside, Wildcat. My knots will hold just fine.”

I rolled my eyes and smirked in his direction before slipping into the tent. Inside, it was warmer, the canvas blocking out the wind. Silas unrolled the furs, arranging them so that they formed a thick, soft bed across the ground. I sat down first, rubbing my arms to chase away the chill.

A moment later, Silas joined me, stretching out beside me before grabbing one of the blankets, pulling me down against him, and draping it over us both. The second he did, I melted into him.

His body was all heat and hard muscle, his arm sliding around my back and cupping my waist, tucking me against his chest. I heaved a long, deep breath, my fingers stroking against his chest, feeling the steady, solid reassurance of him.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

“You okay?” His voice was rough, but edged with unusual softness.

I nodded, though my throat felt tight. “Yeah.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then his fingers traced up my back, slow and soothing. “You don’t have to be brave right now, Lia.”

I swallowed hard, pressing my face against his chest. “I know, but I need to be.”

Silas’s grip tightened, and just like that, the weight of everything—the fear, the exhaustion, the uncertainty of what was waiting for us in that cave—seemed to fade, just a little. For now, I was here in his arms and no matter what tomorrow brought, I knew one thing for certain.

He wasn’t letting me go.