Chapter Two: The Raid

The night was awfully still, that sort of calm which made every groan of the wooden floor and every rustle of leaves outside a little bit louder. It was weeks since my birthday banquet, but the seer's words hung in the air, there yet not quite there, heavy with implication.

I had lain in bed staring out the small window of my room. The crescent moon was low in the sky, casting pale rays that made for macabre shadows across the forest. Yet, there was this real feeling that things were not quite right.

A sudden howl ripped through the silence, lowered and menacing.

I froze.

Then another howl followed. And another.

The Bloodhounds.

It came upon me in an instant, and a river of fear poured through my veins. The feared Bloodhounds had arrived, oozing their cruelty and unmatched strength.

I jumped to my feet, throwing a coat atop my skinny nightdress. The packhouse was in a frenzy; there were all kinds of screams and snarls being shouted. I spilled out into the hall, where people ran both ways; their fear was palpable.

“What's happening?" I said, my voice trembling, to a passing warrior.

"The Bloodhounds!" he yelled back over his shoulder. "They've come to raid us!"

My heart had been flung. Why? Why now?

I pushed and shoved my way through the crowd, desperate to find my father. Outside, the air was tight with tension as the Bloodhounds approached, their giant bodies dodging through the trees like dark specters. Their red eyes seemed to glow malevolently, an eerie glow against the blackness.

In the center of the courtyard, I saw my father and stepmother surrounded by pack warriors. My dad was utterly in control, shouting orders against the fight, his voice firm and hard, while Serena clung to his arm with a terrified expression.

"Dad!" I yelled running toward them.

"Avery, back!" he shouted, eyes flashing to the oncoming Bloodhounds.

"Why are they here?" I asked furiously.

“I don't know!" he yelled, squinting into the mess looking for some sort of clue. "But we won't let them take anything from us."

His words lit a spark of hope, then those too turned to ashes as the Bloodhounds charged. Our warriors fought them, but it wasn't a battle. 

The Bloodhounds were focused on restraint rather than slaughter, dodging killing blows as they worked to bind rather than blood.

But something wasn't right. It didn't matter what my father said. The Moon Pack was not fighting to win. It was fighting for delay.

A huge Bloodhound dove at me with open claws. I screamed, falling backward, but before the dog could reach me a pack warrior intervened. They growled and snarled their bodies striking with a sickening thud.

"Get behind me!" my father commanded, stepping in front of me with a snarl.

But he had the stance all wrong. His movements were uncertain, almost laboured.

The Bloodhounds moved in closer, their growling the rumble of thunder. I clutched at my father's arm, my fear growing with each passing second.

"Do something!" I pleaded.

"We're trying!" he exclaimed, his voice tight with strain.

“But he wasn't. None of them were. It was a realization that came slowly, a terrible truth I couldn't quite grasp. 

The warriors weren't trying to kill, and my father… he wasn't even fighting.

The Bloodhounds surrounded us, their eyes aglow as they stared at me.

"No!" I shrieked, fighting the claws that latched onto my arms. "Let me go!"

"Avery!" Serena shouted, her face contorted with mock fear. "Jack, do something!"

“I’m trying!” my father growled, his voice laced with frustration.

But he wasn’t.

The Bloodhounds pulled me back, their hands pincers of iron. I kicked and twisted, screaming for help, but nobody came. My father and stepmother were stood frozen, their faces masks of feigned helplessness.

"Father, please!" I burbled, tears streaming down my face. "Don't let them take me!"

My father's gaze met mine, and for a flickering instant, I saw something that looked like regret. But he did not move.

"I'll come for you!" he yelled, his voice weirdly resounding with echoes.

The Bloodhounds dragged me into the forest, my sobs drowned by their snarls. The last thing I saw was my father turning away, stiff-shouldered, and Serena clinging to his arm, cold look of satisfaction on her face.

The travel to Bloodhound's land was a nightmare: they kept me bounded, their claws digging deep in my arms every time I struggled. I could feel the sting of the cold mountain air against my skin-my feet raw from the rough terrain.

Each step plunged me deeper into despair. I had been taken, stolen from my home, from my pack, from my family. And no one could stop it.

By the time we reached the Bloodhound fortress, I was exhausted enough that there was little protest.

The fortress loomed above us, cut into the mountain face like some sort of ancient monolith. Torches lined stone walls, casting flickering shadows that seemed to dance like specters in the darkness. The air was heavy with the scent of wolves and smoke and something darker, something that made my skin crawl.

They dragged me through the serpentine hallways, never once the claws letting loose from my arms. I took a look around at the cold and uninviting surroundings as my heart was racing.

Finally, they pushed me into a room and slammed the door behind me.

I stumbled forward, catching myself on the edge of a wooden table. The room was scantily furnished-a bleak contrast to the grandeur of the Moon Pack. What got to me, though, was the cold stone walls, the chill seemed to seep right into my bones.

I collapsed to the floor, my body shaking with exhaustion and terror. I wanted to scream and cry and smash something—anything—but I could do nothing but sit there, numb and shattered.

The hallway outside the door filled with the sound of footsteps: heavy, slow, one after another. My breath caught in my throat, and I struggled to my feet, my back pressed against the wall.

The door creaked open, and he went inside.

Red Alpha.

He was massive, a tall frame taking up the space of the whole room with an intimidating aura that seemed harsher than cruel. Dark hair framed a face that was more razor-sharp than cruel, while his green eyes gleamed with dangerous light.

I froze, my breath stuck to my throat as his gaze locked with mine.

A moment passed, and neither of us budged.

Then he laughed, the noise rumbled deep in the core of him, running chills down my spine.

“You are here," he said, his voice silky but undercut with a threat.

His words hung in the air, heavy and final.