The sound of clashing swords echoed through the valley, it seemed a battle was going on, but that was not the case.. Somewhere in the distance, a desperate voice broke through the darkness.
"Hide the child!"
Sena ran, her heart pounding in her chest like a war drum, her feet barely touching the ground. In her arms, a small pup squirmed, her tiny cries breaking the silence of the night. Her tears streaked her face, but she kept running, her focus clear. She had to save her. She had to protect her child.
“Shh, please. Don’t cry, little one,” she whispered, her voice trembling. She pressed the pup close to her chest, trying to quieten her sobs. “I will make sure nothing happens to you.”
Her breath came in sharp, painful bursts, but she forced herself to keep moving. The sounds of pursuit grew louder behind her.
Wolves. They were closing in, their feet heavy, their snarls clear in the night air. They were fast, but Sena pushed herself harder, running toward the woods. It was her only hope, her only chance to hide her child.
"I won't let anything happen to you my child," she sobbed, "I will protect you, even if it is with the last drop of my blood," tears blurred her vision, and she sobbed quietly, trying so hard not to disrupt the pup's peace.
Branches scraped against her skin as she darted through the dense forest, she whimpered when the branches scraped her skin, leaving bruises all over.
She had to find somewhere safe, somewhere they wouldn’t find her.
Her eyes searched frantically until she found a secluded spot, hidden beneath a cluster of low-hanging trees.
She knelt down, her hands shaking, and gently placed the pup on the ground. Her tiny face was wet with tears, her cries softer now, as if sensing what was to come.
Sena bent down and kissed the pup’s forehead. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I love you, how I wish I could watch you grow, and hold you in my arms, but as it seems I will never see you again," her voice broke.
She looked into the pup’s eyes, hoping she would understand, though she knew she couldn’t.
With one last tearful glance, she rose to her feet. The sounds of her pursuers were drawing closer. Sena took a deep breath, then bolted in the opposite direction, hoping to draw them away from her child.
She ran with everything she had, zigzagging through the forest, hoping to confuse them. Her lungs burned, her legs screamed in protest, but she couldn’t stop. She could hear them behind her, closer now. Too close.
A sharp growl cut through the air, and Sena felt a powerful force slam into her back. She hit the ground hard, her breath knocked from her lungs. Rough hands grabbed her, dragging her to her feet.
"Where is the child?!" one of them snarled, shaking her violently. Sena remained silent, her lips pressed together in defiance.
He slapped her hard across her face, "Where is it?"
She shook her head, refusing to speak.
They dragged her through the woods, her feet barely touching the ground, until they reached a clearing. There, surrounded by fallen leaves and the scent of blood, lay her husband, Farkas. His body was broken, bleeding from wounds that were very severe.
"No!" Sena screamed, struggling to break free from her captors. She stumbled forward, throwing herself onto her knees beside Farkas. "Farkas! No, no, no, please," she sobbed, cradling his head in her lap.
Farkas opened his eyes, his breath ragged, his face pale. "Sena," he whispered, his voice so weak she had to lean in to hear him. "Our child… is safe, right?"
Tears streamed down her face as she nodded. "Yes. I hid her, just like you told me. She is safe," she whispered.
Farkas managed a small, pained smile. "Then… it’s okay. As long as our child is fine, there’s nothing to worry about."
"Where is the child?!" One of the wolves barked again, stepping forward and kicking Sena in the ribs. She gasped, the pain searing through her body, but she didn’t answer.
The wolf kicked her again, harder this time. "Where is it?!" he demanded, his eyes wild with fury. He kicked her repeatedly until blood dribbled from her mouth, but still, she said nothing.
"Sena!" Farkas cried out weakly, watching helplessly as his mate was brutalized in front of him.
"Just finish them already," one of the other wolves growled, his patience running thin.
The leader of the group sneered and drew his sword. Without hesitation, he plunged it into Sena's chest, once, twice, again and again, until her body lay limp beside her husband’s.
"No!" Farkas screamed, his voice thick with agony. He tried to move, to reach her, but his strength had left him.
The wolf walked over to Farkas, his eyes cold and unfeeling. "Good riddance to you both," he muttered, raising his sword and driving it into Farkas's throat.
Farkas’s body jerked once before going still. The wolf wiped his blade clean on the grass, his face showing no hint of remorse. "Let’s go back to the king," he said, turning to his comrades. "She must have dropped the child while running. It’s probably dead by now."
The wolves nodded in agreement and began digging a large pit in the ground. Without wasting much time, they tossed the bodies of Farkas and Sena into the hole, covered them with dirt, and disappeared into the night, leaving nothing but silence behind.
---
Back at the palace, the air was heavy with the scent of incense . A man sat on the throne, his dark eyes gleaming as he gripped the moon's scepter in his hand. He was tall, imposing, with an aura of authority that could silence a room with a glance. His gaze was fixed on the floor as the wolves entered the grand hall and knelt before him.
"Your brother and his wife are dead," the leader of the wolves announced, his voice steady but careful.
The man on the throne didn’t react at first. He remained silent, his expression unreadable as he absorbed the news. Slowly, he looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And the child?" he asked, his voice low, dangerous.
"We couldn’t find it," the wolf replied. "Her mother must have dropped it while fleeing. It’s most likely dead."
The man’s grip tightened on the scepter, his jaw clenching. "Most likely isn’t good enough," he said, his voice like ice. He rose from the throne, towering over the wolves who remained kneeling before him. "I want that child found. I don’t care if you have to turn over every rock in this kingdom, find it!"
The wolves bowed their heads, fear evident in their posture. "Yes, my king," they murmured in unison.
The man on the throne—King Alaric—sat back down, his gaze hard. He had waited too long, plotted too carefully, to let his plans fall apart now. His brother’s child was the last piece of the puzzle, the final obstacle standing between him and complete control of the kingdom.
As the wolves left the hall, King Alaric leaned back in his seat, tapping the scepter against the armrest. His thoughts were already turning to what he would do once the child was found. A small smile played at the corners of his lips. Soon, it would all be his.
"That child better be dead, lest it put me in trouble," his face contorted with fury.
He relaxed when he remembered, his brother Farkas was dead, and his wife too.
"The child will not even be able to survive it, anyway. So why should I worry?"
He let out a low chuckle, dark and twisted, as the shadows in the room seemed to gather closer around him.
The kingdom was his for the taking.
