Chapter 6: Notes in the Moonlight

That howl wasn't haphazard. That serves as a warning.

Dax's quiet but forceful voice cut across the calm of the woodland. His body stiffened, ready to fight or run away as his eyes perolled over the trees.

"What does this imply?"My voice just above a whisper, I asked.

"It means something out there wants us to know it's coming," Dax said sadly. It's not friendly whatever it is.

The Crescent Moon Pack scout moved nervously, his eyes flickering into the darkness. We shouldn't hang around here. There is a curse over this place.

Haunted?I scowled and looked between them.

Dax snorted, devoid of a smile. " Rogues dismiss curses as not believing in them. But even the toughest of them dodge something out here.

The howls returned, more loudly and nearer. Restless and eager to fight, my wolf whirled undermy skin. Dax moved for us, his steps quick but quiet.

"Stay close, and don't make a sound," he said.

As we went, the forest appeared to press in on us, the thick trees creating spooky shadows under the pale moonlight. Every leaf crunch underfoot sent my heart pounding.

Are you sure you do not wish to return to the pack?The scout kept pace with me and whispered frantically.

I aimed a sneer at him. "This isn't the time for that conversation."

Dax looked across his shoulder, his keen eyes narrowing at the scout. "You will get us all killed if you cannot keep your mouth closed."

We arrived to a little area where the moonlight flowed over the grass like silver paint. The howls stopped momentarily, and the woodland fell into a terrible quiet.

"Why stopped they?"My voice shook as I asked.

Dax's jaw closed tightly. "They are circling us.

The air got cooler, and I felt a twinge of discomfort slink down my spine. Every impulse shouting that we were under observation, my wolf was on great alert.

Holding the hilt of his dagger, the scout murmured uneasily, "I don't see anything."

"That's the problem," Dax said in a whisper. They are too clever to tackle squarely. They want us to start with a mistake.

The moon overhead appeared to get more brilliant, its light cutting through the night with almost otherworldly luminosity. On the wind, a subtle murmur that was faint but clear.

"Zaia...."

I stopped, my pulse missing a beat. "Did you catch that?{

"See what?Dax asked, his gaze darting among the trees.

Once more, the whisper returned—more loudly this time. Though gentle and beautiful, the woman's voice had an edge that made me shudder.

"Zaia..." come closer.

"It's calling to me," I said, moving gingerly forward.

Dax took my arm with a strong hold. "Never. She is caught in a trap.

"But it knows my name," I said, my voice faltering between wonder and anxiety.

His eyes locked on mine, "That's exactly why you shouldn't trust it," he murmured. Whatever is out there is playing with you.

The scout moved forward, his face tight. Our stay here is not possible. Should she be hearing voices in the forest, it is its warning mechanism. We had to head off right now.

And dash directly into whatever is out there?Dax turned back, his voice stern. "Great idea."

"Better than standing here waiting to be hunted," the scout said.

"Enough," I replied, my voice strong despite the anxiety biting at me. "We are not remaining here and we are not running blind. We migrate, but we remain close.

Dax raised a brow and let a small smile pull at his mouth. " Finally, some sense."

The voices faded as we moved once more, but the discomfort persisted. My mind flew, divided between the delicate trust I was developing with Dax and the scout's calls for me to get back to the pack.

"Why are you so resolved to support me?As we laboured across the underbrush, I asked Dax.

His jaw tightened, and for a split second I assumed he wouldn't respond. Then he continued, softly, "Because no one supported me when I needed it. And therefore you are stronger than you know.

His comments surprised me; warmth blossomed in my chest even with the tension in the air. "Thanks," I said softly.

"Don't thank me yet," he said, staring across the woods.

We came to a rocky outcrop with a view of a moonlit little valley. Though the woodland below appeared calm, even quiet, the discomfort in my chest just got more intense.

"This is where?"My voice just above a whisper, I asked.

Dax's face clouded. "This is territory that is rogue." But something older and more is present here. This valley has always been somewhat unique.

The scout moved uneasy. We should not be staying here. The stories—”

Stories won't kill you, Dax said. But whomever is hunting us will. This is among the better venues for a stand.

The moonlight grew more brilliant as we prepared a little camp, nearly blinding. The whispers came back, louder and more determined.

"Zaia... you cannot flee your destiny."

The wind picked up, smells of something harsh and metallic—blood.

Dax tensed his hand on his dagger. "They are here."

A shadowy figure entered the clearing, its eyes shining an eerie silver, before I could reply.

"Zaia," it said, with a shockingly familiar chilliness. "You shouldn't have arrived here."