Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Chapter 28

The howl died, and for one terrible moment, the forest was silent.

Then the trees exploded.

They came from everywhere from the branches above, from the fog-choked underbrush, from the shadows that had been empty seconds before. Rogues. Not one. Not two. A pack of them, their eyes burning yellow in the darkness, their bodies lean and scarred and twisted by whatever had driven them from their original packs. They moved with the coordination of wolves who had hunted together for years, testing the formation, probing for weaknesses.

"Hold the line!" Soren’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade. "Silas, report!"

"Seven—no, eight—I can’t get a clear count!" Silas’s voice was strained. "They’re circling us!"

Nyra drew her short sword. The blade felt heavy in her hand, heavier than it had in the armory. This wasn’t training. This wasn’t a sparring match with rules and pulled punches. This was real. The rogue nearest her was missing half an ear, its muzzle scarred, its lips pulled back over yellowed fangs.

I can do this. Soren trained me for this. I can do this.

Orion was at her side, his blade already wet with blood. "Stay close, Prince. Don’t let them separate us."

The first wave hit.

Nyra ducked under a lunging jaw and drove her sword upward, catching the rogue in the shoulder. It yelped and twisted away, and she had just enough time to reset her stance before another was on her. Orion cut it down before it reached her. Elias was somewhere in the fog, his blade flashing. Silas darted between the trees, calling out positions. Draven swung his axe with brutal efficiency, his smirk gone, replaced by something that looked almost like focus.

And Valeria—

Valeria was fighting near Soren, her crossbow bolts finding their marks with deadly precision. She was good. Nyra hated to admit it, but she was good. Every shot counted. Every movement was practiced and precise.

Then the fog surged.

It was like the forest itself had decided to swallow them. One moment Valeria was there, reloading her crossbow. The next, a massive rogue, bigger than the others, its fur black as pitch burst from the trees behind her and closed its jaws around her arm.

Valeria screamed.

"Soren!"

The rogue dragged her backward into the mist. Her crossbow clattered to the ground. Her scream echoed through the trees, fading as the fog closed around her like water closing over a stone.

"Valeria!"

Soren’s roar was something primal. Something that came from a place deeper than training, deeper than discipline. Nyra saw his face the way his eyes went wide, the way his jaw locked, the way his entire body seemed to coil with a rage she had never seen before.

And then he was gone.

He launched himself into the mist after her, sword drawn, formation forgotten. The fog swallowed him the way it had swallowed Valeria, and suddenly Team Alpha was leaderless.

"Soren!" Nyra screamed his name, but he didn’t come back.

He went after her. He just left. He left us. He left me.

The thought was a knife twisting in her chest. Even now, in the middle of a battle, with rogues closing in on all sides, she couldn’t stop the jealousy from rising. He had gone after Valeria. He had thrown himself into danger for Valeria. He hadn’t hesitated. He hadn’t looked back.

Deep down, you wished she wouldn’t come back.

The thought was ugly. She hated herself for thinking it. But it was there, and she couldn’t take it back.

"Thorne!"

Orion’s voice shattered her trance. She looked up and saw the rogue a lean, snarling thing with blood on its teeth lunging for her throat.

She couldn’t move.

Orion moved for her. His blade took the rogue in the side, driving it off course. It crashed into the ground, struggled once, and went still.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Orion grabbed her shoulder and shook her hard. "Get your head in the fight or you’re going to die! Do you understand me?"

Nyra was trembling. The dead rogue lay at her feet, its blood pooling dark on the moss. She had frozen. She had almost died. She had almost died because she’d been thinking about Soren and Valeria instead of watching her own back.

"I understand," she whispered.

"Good. Because I can’t save you twice." Orion released her and turned back to the fight. "Stay in formation. Stay focused. Move!"

Nyra moved.

The battle was intensifying. More rogues were emerging from the trees, drawn by the chaos. Elias was holding the left flank, his blade a silver blur. Silas was still calling positions, but his voice was getting hoarse. Draven was fighting with a brutality that was almost impressive, whatever else he was, he wasn’t a coward.

But Soren was gone. And without their leader, the formation was crumbling.

Nyra faced the next rogue with her heart in her throat and her sword in her hand. This one was smaller, younger, but no less vicious. It circled her, looking for an opening.

You know how to do this, she told herself. Soren taught you. Weeks of training. Hours of drills. You know how to fight.

The rogue lunged. She sidestepped, pivoted, and drove her blade into its flank. It howled and twisted, and she finished it with a strike to the throat.

It was her first real kill.

She didn’t have time to process it. Another rogue was already coming.

This is real combat. Not the school matches. Not the friendly sparring. This is life and death, and if you hesitate, you die.

She didn’t hesitate.

Across the forest, Team Gamma was holding their own.

Ragnar fought like a man possessed, his axe cleaving through the rogues with brutal efficiency. Finn was at his side, his own blade bloodied, his face pale but determined. Marek held the flank with steady hands, and Tomas Greer the quiet first-year was proving himself surprisingly capable.

"Push them back!" Ragnar roared. "Don’t give them an inch!"

They pushed. The rogues fell back, regrouped, attacked again. It was chaos. It was violence. It was everything the Shadow Trials were supposed to be and worse.

And through it all, Finn stayed at Ragnar’s side, exactly where he’d promised to be.

Team Beta had its own battle.

Corvin’s team had been tracking a pack of rogues through the western sector when the ambush came. Lucian fought with elegant precision, his rapier finding throats and eyes. Kael was a wall of muscle, his war hammer crushing bones with every swing. Jasper was methodical, clinical, each strike calculated and efficient.

And Corvin, Corvin was thinking about Nyra.

She’s in the eastern sector. Soren’s with her. She’ll be fine.

He had to believe that. Because if he let himself think otherwise, he would abandon his team and run through the forest until he found her.

Team Delta was bleeding.

The rogue came from above a massive, scarred wolf that dropped from the branches like a falling star. It landed on one of the first-years, a boy named Aldric whose name Nikolai had barely bothered to learn, and before anyone could react, the rogue’s jaws closed around his throat.

Aldric screamed. The scream cut off.

Proctor Kane’s blade took the rogue’s head, but it was too late. Aldric lay on the forest floor, his blood soaking into the moss, his eyes open and staring at nothing.

"Formation!" Kane barked. "Hold the line!"

Nikolai stepped over Aldric’s body without looking down. Xavier’s easy smile had vanished entirely. Killian stood frozen, staring at the dead first-year with an expression that was impossible to read.

That could have been Thorne, he thought. If Draven does his job, that will be Thorne.

The thought should have brought him satisfaction. Instead, it just made him feel hollow.

"Move, Drak!" Kane’s voice snapped him out of his trance. "Fight or die!"

Killian fought.

Soren ran through the forest like a man possessed.

The rogues were fast, but he was faster. They knew the terrain, but he didn’t care. He crashed through the underbrush, his sword drawn, his wolf howling inside his skull.

Faster, Kael snarled. They’re getting away. Faster!

"Shut up and let me focus."

If you’d let me take over, we’d already have her back.

"I don’t need you."

You need me more than you think.

The trail of broken branches and trampled moss led deeper into the forest, away from the team, away from the formation, away from Nyra. Soren pushed that thought aside. He would deal with the consequences later. Right now, Valeria was in danger, and whatever complicated feelings existed between them, he wasn’t going to let her die.

The trees thinned. The fog parted.

Soren burst into a clearing and stopped dead.

Valeria lay in the center, unconscious, her dark hair spread across the moss. She wasn’t moving. She wasn’t making a sound. The rogue that had taken her stood over her body, its yellow eyes fixed on Soren with an intelligence that was deeply wrong.

And then the others emerged.

From the trees. From the shadows. From everywhere and nowhere. A dozen rogues, maybe more, their eyes burning in the darkness. They formed a circle around the clearing, blocking every exit, cutting off every escape.

The rogue standing over Valeria shifted.

Not physically. Not the way a wolf shifted into a man. But something in its posture changed. Something in its eyes. And when it spoke, its voice was a low, rasping growl that formed words.

"Welcome, Sword Sovereign."

Soren’s grip tightened on his sword.

"We have been hearing of you for a long time." The rogue leader because that’s what it was, a leader, an Alpha among rogues bared its teeth in something that might have been a smile. "We wanted to meet you. We hoped you would like this introduction."

Inside Soren’s mind, Kael was roaring.

Let me out. Let me face them. They think they can trap us? Let me show them what a real wolf looks like.

"Not yet."

They’ll kill us both if you don’t—

"I said not yet."

Soren surveyed the clearing. A dozen rogues. One unconscious lecturer. No backup. No formation. No help.

He was exactly where they wanted him.

"I don’t know who you are," Soren said, his voice cold and steady, "but you’ve made a mistake."

The rogue leader tilted its head. "Have we?"

"You took someone from my team. You laid a trap for me." Soren raised his sword. "That means you think you can kill me. You’re wrong."

The rogue leader laughed. It was a horrible sound, grating and unnatural.

"We don’t want to kill you, Sword Sovereign. Not yet. First, we want to talk." Its eyes gleamed. "We have a proposition for you. One we think you’ll find very interesting."

"I’m not interested."

"You will be." The rogue leader stepped closer to Valeria’s unconscious body. "Because if you refuse, she dies. And then your team dies. And then the pretty silver-haired prince you’ve been so carefully protecting he dies too."

Soren’s blood ran cold.

"Yes," the rogue leader purred. "We’ve been watching you for a long time, Soren Thornridge. We know all your secrets. We know all your weaknesses. And we are very, very patient."

The circle of rogues tightened.

Kael’s roar was deafening.

Let me out. Let me out now.

Soren didn’t answer. But his grip on his sword shifted, and his eyes began to bleed gold.