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Chapter 58: Fugitives
Last Updated:
2025-02-04 04:45:15
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The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, the sound of rustling leaves a constant reminder that they were deep in enemy territory. Diego led the way through the dense forest, his keen senses on high alert. Gabriel followed closely, his footsteps unnervingly light for a man who had spent most of his life buried in books. Hugo, on the other hand, grumbled under his breath as he trudged behind them, his broad frame less suited for the stealth required of this mission.They had been traveling for hours, weaving through the shadowed terrain of the valley that curved toward Devil’s Horn. Despite their caution, Diego couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. He signaled for a stop and scanned the forest. The trees stood still in the absence of wind, yet something felt off.Gabriel stepped up beside him, voice low. “You sense it too?”Diego gave a terse nod. “We’re not alone.”Hugo exhaled sh
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The scent of roasted meat and spiced tea filled the dining chamber, but Diego barely noticed it. His gaze was fixed on Erika. She looked healthy, her dark hair gleaming in the firelight, her posture at ease as she sliced into a piece of bread. No chains, no signs of distress.And beside her—his mother.Dunia met his eyes with a calm, unreadable expression. She took a slow sip from her tea, as if she were at a leisurely brunch rather than in the stronghold of their supposed enemy.Diego’s hands clenched into fists. What the hell was going on?Malrik gestured toward the long wooden table. “Sit, Diego. Eat. We have much to discuss.”Diego barely heard him. His entire world had narrowed to Erika, sitting there as though she belonged.“You’re safe,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended.Erika finally looked up at him, her gaze level. “I told you before—I can take care of myself.
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The heavy wooden doors of the dining chamber shut with a resounding thud as the guards took their positions outside. Diego shifted in his seat, his instincts prickling with unease.Malrik leaned back in his chair, his fingers laced together in a way that exuded both confidence and control. His piercing gaze flickered over Diego, Gabriel, and Hugo before finally settling on Diego with a knowing smirk.“You want an alliance,” Malrik said smoothly. “Very well. But alliances are built on trust. And trust… must be earned.”Diego’s jaw tightened. “Go on.”Malrik’s smirk deepened. He stood, walking leisurely to the map spread out on the far table. It was littered with markings—territories controlled by The Board, known strongholds, weak points. Diego’s eyes immediately locked onto a region circled in red.“Blackthorn Prison,” Malrik said, tapping a finger against the map. &ldqu
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The war chamber felt heavier than it should, the air thick with tension and unspoken emotions. A single oil lamp cast flickering shadows over the grand oak table, illuminating the tattered map of Blackthorn Prison. Red ink scrawled across it in deliberate lines, marking guard rotations, weak points, and underground passages that could either be a way in—or a death trap.Malrik stood at the head of the table, fingers tapping against the rough parchment. “The prison is fortified on all sides. Outer walls are reinforced with silver-laced stone. Guards at every post. Patrols change every three hours. If your pack is there, they’ll be in the lower levels—where the High Council keeps high-risk prisoners.”Diego’s eyes traced the map, heart pounding at the thought of his people locked away in those cells, at the mercy of their enemies. “So, what’s the plan?”Malrik gave a tight smile. “We get in. We get your p
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The sun dipped below the jagged peaks of Devil’s Horn, swallowing the settlement in the shadows of dusk. The air grew cooler, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. The fires in the village flickered like distant stars, but the heart of the rebellion was far from resting.They were preparing for war.Diego stood near the edge of the settlement, fastening the last of his weapons onto his belt. The weight of the blades felt familiar, grounding. Behind him, Hugo checked the straps on his gear while Gabriel whispered a quiet incantation over a set of vials—protective spells, no doubt. Nearby, Malrik and his warriors were gearing up, their presence a silent reminder that this mission was no simple infiltration.It was a message.Erika approached, her movements swift and sure as she secured a dagger to her thigh. The moonlight caught the edges of her hair, making her seem ethereal—untouchable. She barely glanced at Diego before addressing
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The air inside Blackthorn Prison was thick with damp stone and the stench of unwashed bodies. The moment Diego stepped through the narrow crack in the outer wall, he felt the shift—a weight pressing down on him, as if the walls themselves knew they didn’t belong.They crouched in the shadows of an abandoned storage chamber, hidden behind rusted crates and barrels that stank of rot. Faint torchlight flickered beyond the barred doorway, casting jagged shadows along the stone floor.Malrik adjusted the dagger at his hip, his lips curled in satisfaction. “Haven’t been in Blackthorn in years. Brings back memories.”Erika shot him a glare. “We’re not here for nostalgia.”Diego ignored them both, scanning the chamber. No guards. No movement. But something felt off.Too easy.Gabriel knelt beside him, whispering, “We need to move. The prison shifts its watch every three hours—we have a smal
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The air in Blackthorn's interrogation hall crackled with tension as the guards closed in. Twelve of them. Armed. Ready.Diego barely had time to think. No escape. No talking their way out of this.This was a fight.The first guard lunged—Malrik met him halfway.The man barely had time to react before Malrik’s fist caved into his chestplate, sending him crashing into the wall like a ragdoll.Then the battle erupted.A guard swung at Diego—he dodged, twisting his body before driving an elbow into the man’s ribs. The soldier grunted, stumbling back. Diego didn’t give him a second chance. He grabbed the man’s wrist, twisted it sharply, and stole his sword in one smooth motion.Steel flashed. Blood splattered.Across the hall, Erika had already taken down two guards. Fast. Precise. Ruthless. She flipped over one opponent, drove her dagger into his shoulder, then kicked him hard in the chest—
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The wind was restless that night. Although the pack and everyone they’d rescued from the cage were brought to safety, the air carried whispers of danger as they waited in the abandoned ruins beyond Blackthorn. The mood was thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension, but none of them broke the silence.Hugo and Gabriel took turns watching the horizon for movement. Erika sat calmly beside Malrik while he casually twirled a dagger between his fingers.Bor Khulan would come.Or he wouldn’t.Either way, Diego was prepared for the worst.His fingers twitched at his side, itching to grab his weapon. Everything about this felt like a setup. He didn’t trust Malrik, and he sure as hell didn’t trust the man they were waiting for.Bor Khulan—the rebellion’s supposed benefactor, the one pulling strings in the shadows. Diego had only heard of him through whispers, t
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The stench of scorched earth and blood clung to the air, thick and suffocating. The battle had quieted, but the tension was far from over.Diego stood at the edge of the ruined courtyard, his body aching from the sorcerer’s last attack. Blackthorn’s fortress loomed before them, its ancient stone walls now cracked and marred by battle.They had taken Blackthorn.But the victory felt hollow.Malrik sat on a broken column, still regaining his strength. Erika stood nearby, silent, staring into the shadows where the sorcerer had disappeared.Diego wiped the sweat and blood from his brow. "We need to regroup," he said. "Now."Malrik let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "You think?"Diego ignored him, turning to Erika. "What was that back there? That magic—I've never seen anything like it."Erika didn’t answer right away. When she finally did, her voice was quiet but certain. "He wasn’t fighting to wi
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The night howled with the promise of war.Diego’s boots pressed into the damp earth as he moved through the underbrush, his senses sharpened by the pulse of approaching violence. The air carried the metallic scent of sharpened steel, the musk of Lycans shifting into their true forms. In the distance, beyond the hills that sloped toward Blackthorn’s walls, torchlight flickered—a fortress on the brink of being torn apart.Behind him, Malrik’s warriors crept like living shadows, their eyes gleaming in the dark. Gabriel stood to Diego’s right, fingers twitching, ready to weave sorcery into the battlefield. Erika was just behind them, poised yet unshaken, her dagger glinting under the pale moon.Diego exhaled, steadying himself. "We do this fast and hard. No second chances."Malrik, crouched beside him, smirked. "You sound like you’re giving orders, Alpha."Diego didn’t rise to the bait. "You brought me here for a reason. Let’s get it done."A low growl rumbled through Malrik’s chest, but
