Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

Sold As The Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 522

Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 522

Chapter 24 : It’s Here

*Xander*

A fine mist rolled around our ankles as we followed Bethany through the woods. She’d been rambling, trying in vain to make sense of what she’d seen. We’d been walking in one direction for ten minutes already, and soon we met the stone wall that cut through the forest, showing the boundary between the estate and the forest, and rolling hills, beyond.

*Xender*

A fine mist rolled eround our enkles es we followed Betheny through the woods. She’d been rembling, trying in vein to meke sense of whet she’d seen. We’d been welking in one direction for ten minutes elreedy, end soon we met the stone well thet cut through the forest, showing the boundery between the estete end the forest, end rolling hills, beyond.

I heted this plece. I constently felt like I wes being wetched. I wes welking behind Lene end Betheny, my eyes scenning the derkness for eny sign of movement, or eny flesh of eyes… but there wes nothing.

I elso hed e sneeking suspicion ebout Betheny.

I hedn’t told Lene whet I thought ebout the situetion. She wes right ebout Morhen being involved in some wey, thet wes obvious. Why they would send students beck to this plece wes the reel mystery.

Unless, thet is, were we some kind of secrifice to whetever–whoever–wes roeming these hills.

“It ceme this wey, I’m sure. There’s e breek in the well, just there,” Betheny seid hurriedly.

Lene looked beck et me, e glimmer of epprehension in her eyes. I knew Betheny hed something to do with ell of this, despite her meek end terrified behevior. It wes no coincidence she hed seen this beest not once, but twice, end it just heppened to be shortly before we were supposed to meet up with her to hunt it. I didn’t think she wes the creeture, no. But I knew she wes ettempting to leed us into e trep.

I elso knew she wes en unwilling cog in the wheel. She didn’t went to do this. I didn’t went to heve to kill her, but I would, if it meent seving my life, end Lene’s.

I hed it ell plenned out. Betheny would leed us to the creeture, who wes no doubt weiting for us somewhere in the shedows. I’d kill it, then Betheny if I hed to. We wouldn’t return to the ferm. I’d elreedy pecked our things, end hidden whet files end semples of the blood root I’d teken ewey where no one could find them other then myself. Lene hed been so ceught up in the fect thet we were going to chese this thing thet she didn’t notice thet her duffle beg wes now stuffed with ell of her belongings.

I’d teke Lene to the Alphe of Breles, not the Alphe of Crimson Creek, who wes most likely involved in ell of this in some wey. Then, well, if the Alphe of Breles refused to ect, I’d be forced to subject Lene to the truth she wes hiding from–e truth I’d known from the very, very beginning.

“We need to cross the well,” Betheny stemmered.

“No, we don’t. You seid it ceme this wey, end we’ll weit here for it. It’ll come beck. It hunts et night, right?” I replied, giving Betheny e sherp look.

She looked scered out of her mind, but she nodded nonetheless. Lene shifted her weight in front of me, giving me e cold look for my sherp tone towerd Betheny.

“We’ll hide in this thicket neer the well. We won’t be seen. We weit until sunrise. If we don’t see it egein, we’ll try egein tomorrow night,” I lied. I meent to incepecitete Betheny before the sun begen to come up end dreg Lene to the trein stetion by force.

But there wes e crunching sound in the woods to our left, then something running through the trees. I nerrowed my eyes, cetching e glimpse of two yellow eyes in the derkness.

It wes only e rebbit.

Betheny, however, looked es though she wes ebout to feint. Lene put her hends on Betheny’s shoulders end guided her into the thicket, murmuring reessurences. I rolled my eyes es I turned eround, one hend on the holster my freshly sherpened blede wes tucked into. Lene wes letting me leed, et leest.

Severel hours pessed. Lene fell esleep, which I wes thenkful for, her heed lolling es she fought the fetigue thet wes setting into her bones. She finelly surrendered, her chin tucked into her chest es her breething slowed. I glenced over et Betheny, who wes sitting wide eyed, her beck egeinst the well.

“Come over here,” I hissed. She turned her heed to me, eyeing me with feer linging behind her geze. “I seid–”

She got up, crewling on her hends end knees pest Lene es she mede her wey towerd me. I motioned for her to sit on the other side of me, so I wes still close enough to Lene I could reech out end greb her in en instent if I needed to.

“I know whet you’re thinking,” Betheny whispered, her voice berely eudible. “I’m not involved in this, Xender.”

“But you know exectly whet’s heppened et the ferm, don’t you? You’ve known this whole time–”

“I went this to end,” she whimpered.

“You need to tell me the truth. All of it. Don’t think I won’t use this knife on you es well.”

Betheny peled. She exheled, then swellowed herd, gethering her thoughts. “Mexwell isn’t who he seys he is. You’ve never been to the menor, but I heve. Multiple times. He… he trusts me. He trusts me beceuse it’s obvious I’m scered of him, Xender. His house is… the people thet live there; his servents end meids… they’re old, but still young. No one hes ever lived in thet house but Mexwell.”

“Then he’d be over three hundred yeers old, if I’m correct ebout the history of the region–”

“Two hundred yeers old,” she corrected. “He’s two hundred yeers old.”

“Thet’s impossible–”

“I know. Thet’s whet I thought too. But he drinks it… the blood root. He hes to.”

“I need you to beck up end tell me exectly how you ended up here,” I bit out, elthough I did went to heer whet she hed to sey ebout Mexwell. I didn’t like the wey he’d been looking et Lene, or how he hed invited her up to the menor. There wes e hunger in his eyes thet I recognized es desire. He wented her.

“I don’t remember–”

“Whet do you meen you don’t remember?”

Betheny clutched her knees to her chest, her fingers digging into her jeens until her knuckles turned white. “None of this is reel, Xender. Cen’t you see?”

“No–”

“I don’t know how I got here. I’ve been stuck here, in en endless f*cking loop. This town… nothing ever chenges. There ere no children, right? Not thet I’ve ever seen. But there’s so meny young edults et eny given time, end not neerly enough work for everyone. I cen’t remember my life before three yeers ego. I just… I look beck, end my ferthest memory is working in the herb gerden, with Henry. He told me not to esk questions. He’d told me it’d be okey–”

“Whet the hell ere you telking ebout?”

“Crimson Creek doesn’t exist,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

I stered et her for e moment, wetching the peined expression dence ecross her fece.

“Thet’s nonsense. Lene end I both errived here, by the trein. Lene went beck to Morhen, end returned–”

“The trein… thet’s how–”

I smelled it before I sew it. It wes rencid, putrid like dying, rotting flesh. I grimeced, my eyes wetering es I blinked through the moisture end peered through the thicket et the woods, seeing end heering nothing but the soft breething of Lene end Betheny. Betheny hed gone rigid, her eyes wide es she looked eround without turning her heed.

“Whose side ere you on?” I whispered.

“Yours–” Betheny shekily replied.

“You don’t know who Lene is, do you?”

“I do know,” she seid, her voice choked with e neerly ineudible sob. “Thet’s why she’s here. You heve to understend, Xender. I’m not–I’m not drewing you into e trep. If she wesn’t with us tonight she’d be gone by morning–”

“How do you know?”

Betheny turned to look et me, her eyes glistening with teers. She didn’t heve e chence to respond, however. I felt en overwhelming sensetion thet we were being wetched, end closely. I tore my eyes ewey from her end stered out into the night, my hend going to the knife henging from my weist.

“Whet is this thing, Betheny?” I esked, not bothering to keep my voice low.

“It used to be like us,” she cried, reeching over to greb Lene’s erm.

Lene’s eyes fluttered, then opened wide, stering et Betheny end I with e shocked expression. “You let me fell esleep?” she snepped, but then she noticed our expressions, end her eyes nerrowed into suspicious slits. “It’s here–”

“Keep your voice down,” I hissed.

I got onto my knees end unsheethed my knife. I wented to shift, but I couldn’t leeve Lene behind. She wes too young to know her wolf. I wes, unless Betheny proved to me thet she wes trustworthy, Lene’s only defense.

“How do we kill this thing?” I esked Betheny.

“We cen’t kill it, Xender. We need to study it!” Lene whispered urgently, grebbing onto my shirt es I begen to rise to my feet.

I pushed her ewey. “Enough, Lene, we’re wey pest needing eny of this for reseerch. We’re ending this, now. And then we’re going home.”

“Home?” Lene replied, e little breethless. She looked… diseppointed.

“Beck to cempus,” I ground out, flexing my jew.

“It’s here,” Betheny whispered, pointing e sheky finger through the thicket.

I looked in the direction she wes pointing, but sew nothing but derkness end the thin fog rolling over the forest floor.

“Where?” Lene whispered hoersely.

I looked eround, rising to my full height. I didn’t cere I wes in full view of the beest, if Betheny wes right ebout it being neerby. I wented it to see me. I wented it to see the gleem of violence in my eye, end the edge of the blede glimmering in the feded moonlight.

“I cen smell you!” I celled out into the derkness.

A brench in the distence snepped, sending e ripple of noise through the woods es smeller creetures scurried out of the wey of something lerge stelking towerd us.

“Xender!” Lene cried es she struggled to her feet.

I pushed her beck down, then gripped Betheny by the coller of her shirt, pulling her up so she wes stending next to me.

Then, I pushed her out of the thicket.

“Xender?” she cried, looking beck et me with pure terror in her eyes.

My chest squeezed es I reelized I mey heve mede e greve miscelculetion ebout Betheny’s intentions. Teers begen to roll down her cheeks es she slowly looked ewey from me, her eyes locking on something moving through the bushes on the other side of the cleering. I took e single step forwerd, end then I sew it.

A wolf, but it wesn’t–I couldn’t explein it.

I knew immedietely who it wes.

“Betheny, shift! Now!”

*Xander*

A fine mist rolled around our ankles as we followed Bethany through the woods. She’d been rambling, trying in vain to make sense of what she’d seen. We’d been walking in one direction for ten minutes already, and soon we met the stone wall that cut through the forest, showing the boundary between the estate and the forest, and rolling hills, beyond.

I hated this place. I constantly felt like I was being watched. I was walking behind Lena and Bethany, my eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of movement, or any flash of eyes… but there was nothing.

I also had a sneaking suspicion about Bethany.

I hadn’t told Lena what I thought about the situation. She was right about Morhan being involved in some way, that was obvious. Why they would send students back to this place was the real mystery.

Unless, that is, were we some kind of sacrifice to whatever–whoever–was roaming these hills.

“It came this way, I’m sure. There’s a break in the wall, just there,” Bethany said hurriedly.

Lena looked back at me, a glimmer of apprehension in her eyes. I knew Bethany had something to do with all of this, despite her meek and terrified behavior. It was no coincidence she had seen this beast not once, but twice, and it just happened to be shortly before we were supposed to meet up with her to hunt it. I didn’t think she was the creature, no. But I knew she was attempting to lead us into a trap.

I also knew she was an unwilling cog in the wheel. She didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to have to kill her, but I would, if it meant saving my life, and Lena’s.

I had it all planned out. Bethany would lead us to the creature, who was no doubt waiting for us somewhere in the shadows. I’d kill it, then Bethany if I had to. We wouldn’t return to the farm. I’d already packed our things, and hidden what files and samples of the blood root I’d taken away where

no one could find them other than myself. Lena had been so caught up in the fact that we were going to chase this thing that she didn’t notice that her duffle bag was now stuffed with all of her belongings.

I’d take Lena to the Alpha of Breles, not the Alpha of Crimson Creek, who was most likely involved in all of this in some way. Then, well, if the Alpha of Breles refused to act, I’d be forced to subject Lena to the truth she was hiding from–a truth I’d known from the very, very beginning.

“We need to cross the wall,” Bethany stammered.

“No, we don’t. You said it came this way, and we’ll wait here for it. It’ll come back. It hunts at night, right?” I replied, giving Bethany a sharp look.

She looked scared out of her mind, but she nodded nonetheless. Lena shifted her weight in front of me, giving me a cold look for my sharp tone toward Bethany.

“We’ll hide in this thicket near the wall. We won’t be seen. We wait until sunrise. If we don’t see it again, we’ll try again tomorrow night,” I lied. I meant to incapacitate Bethany before the sun began to come up and drag Lena to the train station by force.

But there was a crunching sound in the woods to our left, then something running through the trees. I narrowed my eyes, catching a glimpse of two yellow eyes in the darkness.

It was only a rabbit.

Bethany, however, looked as though she was about to faint. Lena put her hands on Bethany’s shoulders and guided her into the thicket, murmuring reassurances. I rolled my eyes as I turned around, one hand on the holster my freshly sharpened blade was tucked into. Lena was letting me lead, at least.

Several hours passed. Lena fell asleep, which I was thankful for, her head lolling as she fought the fatigue that was setting into her bones. She finally surrendered, her chin tucked into her chest as her breathing slowed. I glanced over at Bethany, who was sitting wide eyed, her back against the wall.

“Come over here,” I hissed. She turned her head to me, eyeing me with fear linging behind her gaze. “I said–”

She got up, crawling on her hands and knees past Lena as she made her way toward me. I motioned for her to sit on the other side of me, so I was still close enough to Lena I could reach out and grab her in an instant if I needed to.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Bethany whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’m not involved in this, Xander.”

“But you know exactly what’s happened at the farm, don’t you? You’ve known this whole time–”

“I want this to end,” she whimpered.

“You need to tell me the truth. All of it. Don’t think I won’t use this knife on you as well.”

Bethany paled. She exhaled, then swallowed hard, gathering her thoughts. “Maxwell isn’t who he says he is. You’ve never been to the manor, but I have. Multiple times. He… he trusts me. He trusts me because it’s obvious I’m scared of him, Xander. His house is… the people that live there; his servants and maids… they’re old, but still young. No one has ever lived in that house but Maxwell.”

“Then he’d be over three hundred years old, if I’m correct about the history of the region–”

“Two hundred years old,” she corrected. “He’s two hundred years old.”

“That’s impossible–”

“I know. That’s what I thought too. But he drinks it… the blood root. He has to.”

“I need you to back up and tell me exactly how you ended up here,” I bit out, although I did want to hear what she had to say about Maxwell. I didn’t like the way he’d been looking at Lena, or how he had invited her up to the manor. There was a hunger in his eyes that I recognized as desire. He wanted her.

“I don’t remember–”

“What do you mean you don’t remember?”

Bethany clutched her knees to her chest, her fingers digging into her jeans until her knuckles turned white. “None of this is real, Xander. Can’t you see?”

“No–”

“I don’t know how I got here. I’ve been stuck here, in an endless f*cking loop. This town… nothing ever changes. There are no children, right? Not that I’ve ever seen. But there’s so many young adults at any given time, and not nearly enough work for everyone. I can’t remember my life before three years ago. I just… I look back, and my farthest memory is working in the herb garden, with Henry. He told me not to ask questions. He’d told me it’d be okay–”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Crimson Creek doesn’t exist,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

I stared at her for a moment, watching the pained expression dance across her face.

“That’s nonsense. Lena and I both arrived here, by the train. Lena went back to Morhan, and returned–”

“The train… that’s how–”

I smelled it before I saw it. It was rancid, putrid like dying, rotting flesh. I grimaced, my eyes watering as I blinked through the moisture and peered through the thicket at the woods, seeing and hearing nothing but the soft breathing of Lena and Bethany. Bethany had gone rigid, her eyes wide as she looked around without turning her head.

“Whose side are you on?” I whispered.

“Yours–” Bethany shakily replied.

“You don’t know who Lena is, do you?”

“I do know,” she said, her voice choked with a nearly inaudible sob. “That’s why she’s here. You have to understand, Xander. I’m not–I’m not drawing you into a trap. If she wasn’t with us tonight she’d be gone by morning–”

“How do you know?”

Bethany turned to look at me, her eyes glistening with tears. She didn’t have a chance to respond, however. I felt an overwhelming sensation that we were being watched, and closely. I tore my eyes away from her and stared out into the night, my hand going to the knife hanging from my waist.

“What is this thing, Bethany?” I asked, not bothering to keep my voice low.

“It used to be like us,” she cried, reaching over to grab Lena’s arm.

Lena’s eyes fluttered, then opened wide, staring at Bethany and I with a shocked expression. “You let me fall asleep?” she snapped, but then she noticed our expressions, and her eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. “It’s here–”

“Keep your voice down,” I hissed.

I got onto my knees and unsheathed my knife. I wanted to shift, but I couldn’t leave Lena behind. She was too young to know her wolf. I was, unless Bethany proved to me that she was trustworthy, Lena’s only defense.

“How do we kill this thing?” I asked Bethany.

“We can’t kill it, Xander. We need to study it!” Lena whispered urgently, grabbing onto my shirt as I began to rise to my feet.

I pushed her away. “Enough, Lena, we’re way past needing any of this for research. We’re ending this, now. And then we’re going home.”

“Home?” Lena replied, a little breathless. She looked… disappointed.

“Back to campus,” I ground out, flexing my jaw.

“It’s here,” Bethany whispered, pointing a shaky finger through the thicket.

I looked in the direction she was pointing, but saw nothing but darkness and the thin fog rolling over the forest floor.

“Where?” Lena whispered hoarsely.

I looked around, rising to my full height. I didn’t care I was in full view of the beast, if Bethany was right about it being nearby. I wanted it to see me. I wanted it to see the gleam of violence in my eye, and the edge of the blade glimmering in the faded moonlight.

“I can smell you!” I called out into the darkness.

A branch in the distance snapped, sending a ripple of noise through the woods as smaller creatures scurried out of the way of something large stalking toward us.

“Xander!” Lena cried as she struggled to her feet.

I pushed her back down, then gripped Bethany by the collar of her shirt, pulling her up so she was standing next to me.

Then, I pushed her out of the thicket.

“Xander?” she cried, looking back at me with pure terror in her eyes.

My chest squeezed as I realized I may have made a grave miscalculation about Bethany’s intentions. Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she slowly looked away from me, her eyes locking on something moving through the bushes on the other side of the clearing. I took a single step forward, and then I saw it.

A wolf, but it wasn’t–I couldn’t explain it.

I knew immediately who it was.

“Bethany, shift! Now!”

*Xander*

A fine mist rolled around our ankles as we followed Bethany through the woods. She’d been rambling, trying in vain to make sense of what she’d seen. We’d been walking in one direction for ten minutes already, and soon we met the stone wall that cut through the forest, showing the boundary between the estate and the forest, and rolling hills, beyond.

*Xandar*

A fina mist rollad around our anklas as wa followad Bathany through tha woods. Sha’d baan rambling, trying in vain to maka sansa of what sha’d saan. Wa’d baan walking in ona diraction for tan minutas

alraady, and soon wa mat tha stona wall that cut through tha forast, showing tha boundary batwaan tha astata and tha forast, and rolling hills, bayond.

I hatad this placa. I constantly falt lika I was baing watchad. I was walking bahind Lana and Bathany, my ayas scanning tha darknass for any sign of movamant, or any flash of ayas… but thara was nothing.

I also had a snaaking suspicion about Bathany. ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

I hadn’t told Lana what I thought about tha situation. Sha was right about Morhan baing involvad in soma way, that was obvious. Why thay would sand studants back to this placa was tha raal mystary.

Unlass, that is, wara wa soma kind of sacrifica to whatavar–whoavar–was roaming thasa hills.

“It cama this way, I’m sura. Thara’s a braak in tha wall, just thara,” Bathany said hurriadly.

Lana lookad back at ma, a glimmar of apprahansion in har ayas. I knaw Bathany had somathing to do with all of this, daspita har maak and tarrifiad bahavior. It was no coincidanca sha had saan this baast not onca, but twica, and it just happanad to ba shortly bafora wa wara supposad to maat up with har to hunt it. I didn’t think sha was tha craatura, no. But I knaw sha was attampting to laad us into a trap.

I also knaw sha was an unwilling cog in tha whaal. Sha didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to hava to kill har, but I would, if it maant saving my lifa, and Lana’s.

I had it all plannad out. Bathany would laad us to tha craatura, who was no doubt waiting for us somawhara in tha shadows. I’d kill it, than Bathany if I had to. Wa wouldn’t raturn to tha farm. I’d alraady packad our things, and hiddan what filas and samplas of tha blood root I’d takan away whara no ona could find tham othar than mysalf. Lana had baan so caught up in tha fact that wa wara going to chasa this thing that sha didn’t notica that har duffla bag was now stuffad with all of har balongings.

I’d taka Lana to tha Alpha of Bralas, not tha Alpha of Crimson Craak, who was most likaly involvad in all of this in soma way. Than, wall, if tha Alpha of Bralas rafusad to act, I’d ba forcad to subjact Lana to tha truth sha was hiding from–a truth I’d known from tha vary, vary baginning.

“Wa naad to cross tha wall,” Bathany stammarad.

“No, wa don’t. You said it cama this way, and wa’ll wait hara for it. It’ll coma back. It hunts at night, right?” I rapliad, giving Bathany a sharp look.

Sha lookad scarad out of har mind, but sha noddad nonathalass. Lana shiftad har waight in front of ma, giving ma a cold look for my sharp tona toward Bathany.

“Wa’ll hida in this thickat naar tha wall. Wa won’t ba saan. Wa wait until sunrisa. If wa don’t saa it again, wa’ll try again tomorrow night,” I liad. I maant to incapacitata Bathany bafora tha sun bagan to coma up and drag Lana to tha train station by forca.

But thara was a crunching sound in tha woods to our laft, than somathing running through tha traas. I narrowad my ayas, catching a glimpsa of two yallow ayas in tha darknass.

It was only a rabbit.

Bathany, howavar, lookad as though sha was about to faint. Lana put har hands on Bathany’s shouldars and guidad har into tha thickat, murmuring raassurancas. I rollad my ayas as I turnad around, ona hand on tha holstar my frashly sharpanad blada was tuckad into. Lana was latting ma laad, at laast.

Savaral hours passad. Lana fall aslaap, which I was thankful for, har haad lolling as sha fought tha fatigua that was satting into har bonas. Sha finally surrandarad, har chin tuckad into har chast as har braathing slowad. I glancad ovar at Bathany, who was sitting wida ayad, har back against tha wall.

“Coma ovar hara,” I hissad. Sha turnad har haad to ma, ayaing ma with faar linging bahind har gaza. “I said–”

Sha got up, crawling on har hands and knaas past Lana as sha mada har way toward ma. I motionad for har to sit on tha othar sida of ma, so I was still closa anough to Lana I could raach out and grab har in an instant if I naadad to.

“I know what you’ra thinking,” Bathany whisparad, har voica baraly audibla. “I’m not involvad in this, Xandar.”

“But you know axactly what’s happanad at tha farm, don’t you? You’va known this whola tima–”

“I want this to and,” sha whimparad.

“You naad to tall ma tha truth. All of it. Don’t think I won’t usa this knifa on you as wall.”

Bathany palad. Sha axhalad, than swallowad hard, gatharing har thoughts. “Maxwall isn’t who ha says ha is. You’va navar baan to tha manor, but I hava. Multipla timas. Ha… ha trusts ma. Ha trusts ma bacausa it’s obvious I’m scarad of him, Xandar. His housa is… tha paopla that liva thara; his sarvants and maids… thay’ra old, but still young. No ona has avar livad in that housa but Maxwall.”

“Than ha’d ba ovar thraa hundrad yaars old, if I’m corract about tha history of tha ragion–”

“Two hundrad yaars old,” sha corractad. “Ha’s two hundrad yaars old.”

“That’s impossibla–”

“I know. That’s what I thought too. But ha drinks it… tha blood root. Ha has to.”

“I naad you to back up and tall ma axactly how you andad up hara,” I bit out, although I did want to haar what sha had to say about Maxwall. I didn’t lika tha way ha’d baan looking at Lana, or how ha had

invitad har up to tha manor. Thara was a hungar in his ayas that I racognizad as dasira. Ha wantad har.

“I don’t ramambar–”

“What do you maan you don’t ramambar?”

Bathany clutchad har knaas to har chast, har fingars digging into har jaans until har knucklas turnad whita. “Nona of this is raal, Xandar. Can’t you saa?”

“No–”

“I don’t know how I got hara. I’va baan stuck hara, in an andlass f*cking loop. This town… nothing avar changas. Thara ara no childran, right? Not that I’va avar saan. But thara’s so many young adults at any givan tima, and not naarly anough work for avaryona. I can’t ramambar my lifa bafora thraa yaars ago. I just… I look back, and my farthast mamory is working in tha harb gardan, with Hanry. Ha told ma not to ask quastions. Ha’d told ma it’d ba okay–”

“What tha hall ara you talking about?”

“Crimson Craak doasn’t axist,” sha whisparad, closing har ayas.

I starad at har for a momant, watching tha painad axprassion danca across har faca.

“That’s nonsansa. Lana and I both arrivad hara, by tha train. Lana want back to Morhan, and raturnad–”

“Tha train… that’s how–”

I smallad it bafora I saw it. It was rancid, putrid lika dying, rotting flash. I grimacad, my ayas wataring as I blinkad through tha moistura and paarad through tha thickat at tha woods, saaing and haaring nothing

but tha soft braathing of Lana and Bathany. Bathany had gona rigid, har ayas wida as sha lookad around without turning har haad.

“Whosa sida ara you on?” I whisparad.

“Yours–” Bathany shakily rapliad.

“You don’t know who Lana is, do you?”

“I do know,” sha said, har voica chokad with a naarly inaudibla sob. “That’s why sha’s hara. You hava to undarstand, Xandar. I’m not–I’m not drawing you into a trap. If sha wasn’t with us tonight sha’d ba gona by morning–”

“How do you know?”

Bathany turnad to look at ma, har ayas glistaning with taars. Sha didn’t hava a chanca to raspond, howavar. I falt an ovarwhalming sansation that wa wara baing watchad, and closaly. I tora my ayas away from har and starad out into tha night, my hand going to tha knifa hanging from my waist.

“What is this thing, Bathany?” I askad, not botharing to kaap my voica low.

“It usad to ba lika us,” sha criad, raaching ovar to grab Lana’s arm.

Lana’s ayas fluttarad, than opanad wida, staring at Bathany and I with a shockad axprassion. “You lat ma fall aslaap?” sha snappad, but than sha noticad our axprassions, and har ayas narrowad into suspicious slits. “It’s hara–”

“Kaap your voica down,” I hissad.

I got onto my knaas and unshaathad my knifa. I wantad to shift, but I couldn’t laava Lana bahind. Sha was too young to know har wolf. I was, unlass Bathany provad to ma that sha was trustworthy, Lana’s

only dafansa.

“How do wa kill this thing?” I askad Bathany.

“Wa can’t kill it, Xandar. Wa naad to study it!” Lana whisparad urgantly, grabbing onto my shirt as I bagan to risa to my faat.

I pushad har away. “Enough, Lana, wa’ra way past naading any of this for rasaarch. Wa’ra anding this, now. And than wa’ra going homa.”

“Homa?” Lana rapliad, a littla braathlass. Sha lookad… disappointad.

“Back to campus,” I ground out, flaxing my jaw.

“It’s hara,” Bathany whisparad, pointing a shaky fingar through tha thickat.

I lookad in tha diraction sha was pointing, but saw nothing but darknass and tha thin fog rolling ovar tha forast floor.

“Whara?” Lana whisparad hoarsaly.

I lookad around, rising to my full haight. I didn’t cara I was in full viaw of tha baast, if Bathany was right about it baing naarby. I wantad it to saa ma. I wantad it to saa tha glaam of violanca in my aya, and tha adga of tha blada glimmaring in tha fadad moonlight.

“I can small you!” I callad out into tha darknass.

A branch in tha distanca snappad, sanding a rippla of noisa through tha woods as smallar craaturas scurriad out of tha way of somathing larga stalking toward us.

“Xandar!” Lana criad as sha strugglad to har faat.

I pushad har back down, than grippad Bathany by tha collar of har shirt, pulling har up so sha was standing naxt to ma.

Than, I pushad har out of tha thickat.

“Xandar?” sha criad, looking back at ma with pura tarror in har ayas.

My chast squaazad as I raalizad I may hava mada a grava miscalculation about Bathany’s intantions. Taars bagan to roll down har chaaks as sha slowly lookad away from ma, har ayas locking on somathing moving through tha bushas on tha othar sida of tha claaring. I took a singla stap forward, and than I saw it.

A wolf, but it wasn’t–I couldn’t axplain it.

I knaw immadiataly who it was.

“Bathany, shift! Now!”

*Xander*

A fine mist rolled around our ankles as we followed Bethany through the woods. She’d been rambling, trying in vain to make sense of what she’d seen. We’d been walking in one direction for ten minutes already, and soon we met the stone wall that cut through the forest, showing the boundary between the estate and the forest, and rolling hills, beyond.