Eight hours. My paws pound the bforest /bfloor like drums of war, but the bastard is nowhere. Every trail I follow twistsb, /bbends, band /bbscatters /blike smoke in the wind. My wolf’s breath fogs the air, rage simmering beneath my skin..

    I halt, nostrils ring. Corrupted energy burns faintly in the airb, /bck and sour. My uncle’s stench. But it slips away mockingly, splitting into three separate paths as if thend itself isughing at me.

    “Fan out,” I snarl, mymand ripping into the bones of the trackers and warriors around me. They lower their heads and scatter, paws shredding the undergrowth as they obey. Even the trees seem to bow beneath my power, yet the btrail /bremains elusive.

    I bare my teeth. You crippled bastard. There’s no way you outran me.

    Leaping over a fallen trunk, my wolf’s massive frame soars, towering over the warriors who look like pups beside me. But the deeper we press into the woods, the more wrong it feels. Dead animals lie twisted on the forest floor–birds with hollow eyes and a fox with ckened veins across its throat. A growl rips from me, lips peeled back in fury.

    Dark magic. Not the cheap, pathetic witchcraft that leaves behind sloppy residue. No–this is stronger, older. Ancient. My uncle has help.

    The sound in my chest deepens, a lethal rumble. Of course he nned this. Old and crippled, yes, but never stupid.

    I drive forward again, forcing the trackers to keep up, but every stepb, /bevery scent, leads to nothing but illusions–false trails, Hures meant to pull me deeper into his trap.

    This is pointless. He’s not running… he’s ying me.

    I skid to a halt in the mud, chest heaving, ws digging trenches into the earth. The others stumble to a stop around me, panting, their wolves‘ eyes ssy with exhaustion. Eight hours without rest–mymand has pushed them to the edge.

    I shift back, bones snapping into ce, skin recing fur. My breath clouds the air as I straighten to my full height. My warriors lower their heads, their wolves circling nervously before shifting back too, their bodies trembling from the strain.

    I let my aura roll over them. “Enough,” Imand. “He’s not running. He’s hiding, weaving shadows to waste our time.” I sweep my gaze over them, my jaw tight. “If he thinks I’ll burn my warriors out chasing ghosts, he’s a bigger fool than I thought.”

    The men exchange weary looks, relief shing in their eyes, though no one dares to speak.

    “We return. Rest. Regroup. Stay alert. The man we’re hunting isn’t an ordinary wolf–you can see it for yourselves. He’s tapping into the darkest kind of magic, power that takes more than a simple witch’s charm to wield. I don’t know what price he paid to obtain it, but we will find out.” My teeth bare, fury burning in my chest. “And when we do, I’ll rip it from him myself.”

    Themand is final. No one questions it.

    They bow low, then shift back, their wolves streaking into the underbrush. I shift too, my wolf exploding forward–massive, relentless–and together we race toward the pce.

    This isn’t over, uncle. You’ve bought yourself time, nothing more.

    I push harder, the forest blurring around me as my thoughts sharpen on Fury. He’s the only one who came close to my uncle, the only one who nearly died at his hands. If he’s awake now, he may hold the answers no one else can give–answers about the power my uncle has drawn upon to strengthen himself.

    My uncle may hide in shadows, but I’ll drag him into the light.

    One way or another.

    By the time the pce walls rise in the distance, another piece of the puzzle bforces /bitself into my mind: Khaosb—/bJasmine’s bex- /b

    mate. He swore he knew nothing, yet it was clear my uncle had used him to iget /iito /iime /iand ito /iiKali/ii. /iiDuring /iiour /iist /iiinterrogation/ii, /ihe let one word slip–master. He imed the man was faceless, someone he had never truly seen. iBut /iiI /iican’t /iishake /iithe /isuspicion that the shadow behind that word… is my uncle.

    A dark smile twists across my lips. Perhaps I should return ito /iithe /iiBlood /iFang dungeons, drag Khaos from his celli, /iichain /iihim /iupside down, and strip away what’s left of his idignity/i–itongue/ii, /ieyes, limbsi. /iiPain /ihas a iway /iof unlocking imemory/i, iforcing /iithe /imind to recall what it tried to forget, even things buried deep in isleep /iior /iiunconsciousness/i. One way or another twillt.

    talk.