Six adult wolves lay sprawled across the snow in their beast forms.
Death had already begun to claim them.
Their once thick fur was matted with frozen blood, patches of decay had started creeping beneath their hides and the sharp metallic scent of it all hung heavily in the cold air.
A crowd had already gathered.
Warriors, servants and curious pack members stood several feet away, whispering amongst themselves.
Their voices blended into one another, each person offering a different theory while stealing uneasy glances at the carcasses.
Darius arrived moments later.
Elena walked beside him while Nathan and Nicolas were already crouched near the bodies, thick leather gloves covering their hands as they carefully examined the dead wolves.
The murmuring stopped the moment the crowd noticed their Alpha.
They immediately stepped aside, creating a path for him.
Darius walked forward, his eyes sweeping over the scene.
Death was something he was used to seeing as an Alpha but this?
Thete was something wrong with the way these wolves laid there dead.
“What happened?” he asked, his gaze never leaving the bodies.
Nathan rose to his feet but it was Nicolas who answered first.
“I’m not sure.” He stood and brushed the snow from his gloves before taking a step towards Darius, subtly blocking his path.
“I wouldn’t get any closer.”
Darius frowned.
“Why?”
Nicolas lowered his voice.
“These aren’t Crimson Fang wolves.”
Darius’ brows drew together.
Before he could ask what he meant, Elena suddenly stepped forward.
A soft gasp escaped her lips.
“No…” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
She slowly knelt beside one of the bodies, her trembling fingers hovering just above the wolf’s neck before stopping short of touching it.
Her face drained of colour as recognition settled over her.
“How…” she breathed.
She looked up at Darius, her blue eyes wide with what appeared to be horror.
“These are my father’s warriors.”
Silence fell over the clearing.
The whispers that followed were louder than before.
Then the murmuring crowd suddenly parted again.
Alpha Frisk strode through them with long purposeful steps, his heavy fur coat brushing against the fresh snow.
His usually composed face had hardened into something unreadable the moment his eyes landed on the bodies.
He stopped.
For a long moment he simply stared.
The cold wind swept through the clearing, carrying with it the metallic scent of blood and something far fouler.
Rot.
It hung heavily in the air.
Darius watched the older Alpha’s jaw tighten.
The man’s eyes slowly travelled over each fallen wolf before settling briefly on Elena.
Only for a heartbeat.
Father and daughter exchanged a look so quickly it could have easily been missed.
Then it was gone.
“How?” Frisk finally asked, his voice low enough that it almost disappeared into the wind.
It was the question everyone wanted answered.
How had six fully grown warrior wolves ended up dead in woods?
Nathan slowly rose from where he had been examining one of the bodies.
Snow clung stubbornly to the knees of his trousers as he pulled off one of his gloves.
His expression was troubled.
“I found something.”
Every eye turned towards him.
Nathan glanced down at the nearest body before crouching once more.
He brushed a hand a few inches above the wolf’s chest, his nose wrinkling slightly as though he could still smell whatever lingered there.
“There are traces of magic.” The words settled over the clearing like a heavy blanket.
Magic?
Darius felt his brows draw together.
Magic wasn’t common in the North.
In fact…
It was almost nonexistent.
His eyes instinctively drifted towards Nicolas.
His Beta looked just as confused.
“There hasn’t been a witch anywhere near our borders for decades,” one of the warriors muttered from somewhere behind the crowd.
Another voice answered almost immediately, it was Alpha Frisk.
“There is now.”
Silence followed.
Darius’ stomach tightened.
The realization spread through the crowd one person at a time until the conclusion became painfully obvious.
Within a ten miles radius there was only one person capable of using magic.
“Aurelia.”
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Consciousness returned slowly.
The first thing Aurelia felt was the cold.
It had seeped into every inch of her body while she slept, settling deep into her bones until even breathing hurt.
The damp earth beneath her clothes had stolen whatever warmth she had left, leaving her body stiff and numb.
Every muscle ached, but the sharp pain shooting through her shoulder reminded her of the rather spectacular fall she had taken before blacking out.
A groan slipped past her lips as she forced her eyes open.
Grey clouds stretched above the narrow opening of the ditch while snow drifted lazily from the heavens, a few flakes landing against her face before melting into icy droplets that rolled down her temple.
“…Wonderful.” Her voice came out hoarse.
For a long moment she simply lay there, staring blankly at the sky as though hoping the gods would suddenly appear and admit this had all been one terribly unfunny joke.
They didn’t.
With a long, suffering sigh, Aurelia dragged a hand over her face before pushing herself onto her elbows.
Pain immediately exploded through her ribs, forcing a sharp hiss from between her teeth.
“This really isn’t my day.”
Another pained breath escaped her as she forced herself into a sitting position, leaning heavily against the frozen dirt wall behind her.
Every inch of her body throbbed.
It honestly felt as though Zeus himself had struck her with lightning.
She rubbed at her shoulder before lifting her gaze towards the opening above.
It wasn’t that high.
She could probably climb out.
But the real problem wasn’t the ditch, the problem was her body.
She doubted it would cooperate.
Still, sitting here waiting for a miracle didn’t seem like a particularly brilliant idea either.
She wasn’t exactly mated to a knight in shining armor who would notice if she went missing.
With a quiet groan she pushed herself to her feet.
Her knees immediately threatened to buckle beneath her weight, forcing her to brace a hand against the wall until the dizziness passed.
She slowly looked around.
Nothing.
No hanging vines.
No exposed roots.
Not even a decent branch she could use for leverage.
Just frozen dirt, loose rocks and the occasional stubborn weed sticking out from the wall.
“I hate this,” she muttered under her breath.
She hated all of it.
She hated feeling weak, she hated being alone.
She hated that every solution seemed just out of reach now that her magic had abandoned her.
And most of all…
She hated that bitch Elena.
Aurelia let out an irritated scoff.
“Oh, when I get my hands on that awful little brat…” she muttered, already imagining herself ripping those perfectly curled blonde locks straight from her head.
“I’ll shave you bald and stuff your hear into your throat you bitch”
That wasn’t enough for Elena but the image alone brought her a tiny bit of satisfaction.
It was enough to make her move.
She shrugged off her muddy cloak and searched herself for anything that might help her climb.
A hairpin.
A knife.
A length of rope.
Nothing.
She stared at her empty hands before letting out another exhausted sigh.
Well…
She certainly hadn’t dressed this morning expecting to be kidnapped and dumped in a ditch.
Aurelia’s eyes swept across the walls of the ditch again looking for anything of use.
She refused to believe the gods had dragged her all this way only for her to freeze to death in a hole.
A loose stone caught her attention.
It jutted out from the frozen earth just enough to be used as a foothold.
Above it, another, then another.
Her eyes followed the uneven trail all the way to the top.
“…Well,” she muttered.
“It’ll either work or I’ll fall and make my shoulder hate me even more.”
The rough dirt crumbled beneath her fingertips as she tested the first rock.
It held.
Slowly, Aurelia began climbing.
Every movement sent pain tearing through her body.
Loose earth slipped beneath her boots, stones shifted under her weight, and more than once she nearly lost her footing altogether.
Halfway up, one of the rocks gave way.
Her stomach lurched.
She slammed herself against the wall, desperately digging her fingers into the frozen dirt until the slide stopped.
Her breathing became uneven as her heart hammered against her ribs.
“…I really hate the North.”
She stayed there for several seconds before forcing herself to continue.
By the time she finally hauled herself over the edge, her arms were shaking so violently she collapsed face-first into the snow.
She stayed there.
Just breathing.
She had made it out.
Eventually, Aurelia forced herself onto her feet.
The forest looked no different than before.
Towering pines stretched endlessly in every direction, their branches heavy with snow.
The silence of the forest unsettled her.
She could no longer hear wolves.
Not even birds.
Only the wind.
She chose a direction at random and started walking.
Each step was slow.
Her body still felt sluggish from whatever Elena had thrown into her face, and every now and then she had to steady herself against a tree while the dizziness passed.
She couldn’t stay here.
She just needed to find the road.
Or the manor.
Or anyone that wasn’t trying to kill her.
A strange smell drifted through the air.
Copper and something close to rot.
Aurelia frowned.
The scent grew stronger with every step until she rounded a cluster of trees.
Her breath caught.
A massive grey wolf lay motionless in the snow.
Its fur was stained dark with blood, and patches of decay had already begun creeping across its body.
Flies buzzed lazily around the wounds despite the cold, and something about the sight made Aurelia’s stomach twist.
“What…” She approached cautiously.
The wolf wore leather armour over its shoulder.
Aurelia’s eyes immediately caught the familiar crest stamped into the worn leather.
Elena’s pack.
Her brows furrowed.
This was one of the warriors that had chased her through the forest this morning.
She slowly crouched beside the body again, her heartbeat beginning to quicken.
Just hours ago this wolf had been alive, hunting her through the woods.
Now he was dead and already rotting.
How was that even possible?
Rot didn’t happen this quickly.
Aurelia’s gaze swept over the body, searching for wounds.
There were none.
No torn flesh.
No bite marks.
No arrows.
Nothing that explained how a fully grown warrior wolf had died.
“There is something wrong here…” she whispered.
She leaned in a little closer, there was something about the body she couldn’t quite place but before she could think—
A twig snapped.
Aurelia’s head whipped around so quickly her neck protested.
Another crunch echoed through the trees.
Then another.
The unmistakable sound of boots pressing through snow.
Her stomach dropped.
Instinctively she rose to her feet, taking a cautious step backwards.
A figure emerged from between the pines.
“Darius?” she breathed.
For one foolish, fleeting moment relief washed over her.
Had he…
Had he come looking for her?
She watched him take another step before his movements suddenly halted.
His eyes dropped to the dead wolf lying at her feet.
His expression changed instantly.
Shock and disbelief, then something she couldn’t quite read.
Confused, Aurelia followed his gaze before looking back up.
More warriors emerged from the forest, surrounding the clearing one by one.
Nathan.
Nicolas.
And finally…
Elena.
The moment Aurelia saw her, every muscle in her body tensed.
Her eyes narrowed into slits.
“You bit—”
“I told you!” Elena cried, cutting across her voice as she pointed a trembling finger straight at Aurelia.
Tears already shimmered in her eyes.
“I told you she did it!”
The clearing fell deathly silent.
“She killed them.”