Chapter 224: The Rift

Zahliver’s POV

I came close once far too close to telling Vivian what it truly meant when a wolf had silver eyes just like mine. Luckily, she never pushed the dangerous question again.

Good. Because the underlying truth was completely twisted.

My incredible strength? It came straight from death itself. Every single wolf who perished under my strict command in battle added power to my soul. A cruel bargain built directly into my very existence.

Unfair to them. Extremely convenient for me.

I let out a dry, dark chuckle as I watched the pack of wolves around me, buzzing with excitement, completely unaware of what true power actually costs a man. There is only one way someone like me gets this strong, this fast blood. And plenty of it.

My inner beast stirred beneath my skin, licking its fangs with a restless, violent hunger. It had been far too long since our last real fight. And if this was going to be the final war, we would make sure it was a glorious, brutal mess.

Albericus coughed softly beside me, dragging me back from the dangerous edge of my own dark thoughts. His eyes met mine, lined with deep exhaustion and edged with silent regret. He pitied the ordinary wolves, maybe even feared what would happen to them. But he did not say it out loud. He did not need to.

The others were watching me closely, too. A quiet reminder that we were not quite at war yet. I needed to keep my primal instincts leashed tightly for now.

"Venom says the moment you give the word, we will have a thirty-six second window to jump straight to their location," Fern reported steadily. "And from there, we have eight minutes to breach the heavy door and get all the soldiers through."

"Is he ready?" I asked, already knowing the massive risk that came with teleporting this many living bodies at once.

Teleportation was exceptionally rare for a good reason it was entirely unpredictable and deadly if done wrong. It was never meant for mass military use.

"Venom has got strange connections, but he never says where he found this guy," Lexero muttered, nodding toward the shady, twitchy figure waiting a short distance away. "The snake is keeping that little secret close to his chest."

We all caught the muttered curses as the strange man shuffled nervously toward us, clearly talking entirely to himself.

"Fucking snake. Out of all the ways to repay him, this is what he wants? It is Viper’s damn fault. I swear, if I survive this stupid mission, I am wringing her neck for getting me involved with her brother..."

He fell entirely silent when he realized just how close he was standing to us now. His nervous gaze flicked up to my masked face, then quickly down again. We towered over him like massive mountains.

"I will try to keep the portal open for as long as I possibly can," he said, his voice dry and strained with panic. "But thirty-six seconds is all I can guarantee with this many wolves pouring through."

"That will be enough," I replied, my voice dipped in something darker something not fully human anymore.

"Just give us a clear warning," I added.

He swallowed hard, nodding rapidly. "Okay. On the count of three, have your men move straight to that marked spot," he pointed ahead into the clearing. "And do not stop running. No matter what happens. Just run."

He leaned away from me slightly, and I did not bother to hide my amusement at his fear.

I did not repeat the command out loud. My veteran soldiers were already braced, muscles tensed and eyes sharp. But I knew that when that glowing portal ripped open, I would be the first one through it. I had far more at stake than any of them.

I had a very old score to settle.

"Ready?" the blue-haired man asked, slowly rolling up his sleeves to expose two tattoos inked onto his forearms both of them shaped like clock faces.

At first glance, they seemed identical. But one clock was ticking steadily forward. The other was ticking backward. Past and future. I did not bother to ask which one we were stepping into.

"Just count," I said roughly, bending slightly at the knees. My entire body was already coiled like a spring.

"One."

My black claws itched against my palms.

"Two."

My inner beast surged forward, fully ready.

"Three!"

The cold air cracked with a violent purple spark. I launched myself forward, blurring past the other men before they even lifted off the ground. I did not hesitate, and I did not glance around.

I just ran straight into the blinding tear in space.

And for a split second, I felt completely weightless.

Like a forgotten god caught dangerously between worlds.

The strange sensation of being lifted entirely from the ground always unsettled me. That fleeting moment of disconnection no weight beneath my boots, no firm earth to root me down whispered of raw vulnerability. I hated it.

Still, I forced myself to ignore the discomfort clawing through my chest. My vision flickered, swallowed instantly in sudden blindness, but I did not dare slow down my pace. I kept moving forward even when I could no longer tell where up ended or down began. All I had left was raw motion and primal instinct.

Then, just as abruptly as it had started, the motion stopped.

Sight returned in a flash. Gravity reasserted itself with a vengeance. My heavy boots hit solid ground, and I landed in a silent, predatory sprint through damp earth and towering dark trees. The familiar scent of pine, sweat, and bitter anticipation clung to the air like a thick fog. A few yards ahead, I glimpsed a thrumming mass of bodies my entire army. Forty thousand and eight hundred strong. All present. All waiting.

My inner beast stirred angrily in my mind, more than ready for blood. He prowled in restless circles, his jaws snapping at the empty air, his tongue thick with hunger. He could already taste the oncoming carnage. The war. The glorious chaos. His deep snarls echoed through my skull like a second heartbeat louder and much darker.

I did not have to check behind me to know my closest commanders were right there in formation. I could feel them linked directly to me in thought, stride, and iron resolve.