A Werewolf's Unexpected Mate-Chapter 66: Glimmering Threat

•Northwest Thunoa Forest•

Ace’s POV

The forest hummed with tension around us. The coppery scent of fresh blood mixed with the damp earth beneath our boots, clinging to the back of my throat. We’d just subdued another group of werewolf bandits, their unconscious forms now bound with the same black magic chains that seemed to drink in the fading light. The chains pulsed faintly against my palms as I tightened the last restraint, their unnatural chill seeping through my gloves.

I straightened, rolling my stiff shoulders. Still no sign of the witch. My claws twitched at my sides, restless.

A flicker of movement caught my attention. My head snapped toward the twelve o’clock position, ears swiveling forward. Through the dense foliage, a faint orange glow pulsed between the trees—too steady to be fireflies, too dim to be a proper campfire.

"There’s a light at twelve o’clock," I murmured, keeping my voice low enough that only werewolf hearing would catch it. My snout wrinkled as a new scent reached me—woodsmoke and something sickly sweet beneath it. "Think we’ve found their hideout."

Philip squinted into the gloom, his human eyes useless in this darkness. "Really? I can’t see it," he grumbled, fingers flexing around his dagger hilts.

The corner of my mouth twitched. "That’s because you’re human." I couldn’t resist the jab, though I softened it with a nudge of my elbow against his arm.

Ray’s sudden snicker cut through the tension. "Ace, why don’t you climb that tree and scout ahead?" His orange eyes gleamed with mischief in the dim light. "You’re basically a werewolf monkey anyway."

My ears flattened against my skull. "Wow. Werewolf monkey?" I bared my teeth in a mock snarl. "Maybe you’re just jealous because you’d fall out of the damn tree, weakling."

Ray’s smirk widened, revealing too-sharp canines. He opened his mouth to retort, but Philip’s poorly concealed snort cut him off. Both our heads swiveled toward Philip, who immediately became very interested in adjusting his gloves.

With an exaggerated huff, I approached the nearest oak. The bark scraped against my palms as I dug in my claws, hauling myself up with practiced ease. Halfway up, a rustling below made me glance down. Ray had his hands shaped like paws, swinging imaginary from branch to branch while Philip bit his lip to contain his laughter. I flipped them off before continuing my ascent.

The view from the top stole my breath. Exactly as Aldrin’s intel had described—three massive acacia trees formed a rough triangle at the clearing’s center, their twisted branches creating a natural canopy over the cluster of tents below. Most appeared empty, their canvas sides fluttering in the night breeze, but a few held sleeping forms. My nose twitched. No witch scent yet.

Then movement at nine o’clock caught my eye.

The cage.

My claws sank into the branch as my vision sharpened. At least fifteen villagers crammed inside, their gaunt faces visible in the moonlight. A child curled against a woman’s side, both shivering despite the mild night. Something hot and vicious uncoiled in my chest.

I dropped from the tree with barely a sound, landing in a crouch between my teammates. Their smiles died when they saw my expression.

"Hideout’s there," I growled, jerking my chin toward the light. "About thirteen bandits, mostly sleeping." My jaw worked. "And Gareth’s people in a cage at nine o’clock."

Ray’s playful demeanor evaporated. His claws unsheathed with an audible snikt. "We taking them now?"

I nodded, already running tactical scenarios. "The numbers are manageable, but—" I shot Philip a meaningful look. "We don’t have a mana nullifier for the witches," I reminded them, my tone grim. "Fighting them is going to be a pain in the ass."

Philip swallowed audibly but tightened his grip on his daggers. The steel gleamed as he tested their balance. "Just tell me what to do."

"Your speed’s our best weapon against any witches," I said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "They’re glass cannons—all magic, no durability. Get in close, stay aggressive, and they’ll fold."

Ray bumped his shoulder against Philip’s. "The werewolves are mine. Nobody’s dying tonight—not on my watch."

Philip’s answering smile was shaky but determined. "Guess I’m hunting witches tonight."

"Stick to the plan," I said, rolling my neck until it cracked. The village child’s face flashed behind my eyes. "And move fast. Those people have waited long enough." 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

•West Thunoa Forest•

Ovelia’s POV

The forest air rushed past my face in a cool stream, carrying the earthy scent of damp soil and crushed leaves. My fingers tangled deeper in Ann’s thick fur as she bounded over gnarled roots, her powerful muscles flexing beneath me with each stride. The faint but familiar traces of Ace’s pine-and-iron scent, mixed with Ray’s smokier aroma and Philip’s sharper leather-and-herb smell, wove through the air like a trail only Ann could follow.

A sudden gust tore through the canopy above us, making the branches shudder. Then it came - a voice that wasn’t a voice, words formed from the rushing air itself that prickled the hairs on my neck:

"Go back. It’s not safe here."

My breath hitched. "Wind?!" I called out, twisting to scan the shifting shadows between the trees. Only the creaking of branches answered me this time, the warning already dissipated like morning mist.

Ann’s ears swiveled backward toward me as she maintained her steady pace. "When we left the kingdom," she said, her voice carrying clearly over the rhythmic thud of her paws, "Wind warned us before those bandits attacked near Meadowlark." Her shoulders tensed slightly beneath my hands. "The danger is real, but we can’t turn back now."

I pressed my knees tighter against her sides, feeling the warmth of her body even through my dress. The Wind’s warning coiled like cold fingers around my ribs, but Ann’s steady presence anchored me. When she turned her head slightly, one black eye catching the dim light, I could see the question in her gaze.

"Lady Ovelia," she rumbled, her voice softer now, "do you trust me? I swear on my life, I’ll keep you safe."

My fingers flexed in her fur, the silken strands slipping between them. The fear was still there, a fluttering thing in my chest, but beneath it ran something stronger. "With my life, Ann," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "I’ve never doubted you."

Ann exhaled sharply through her nose - the werewolf equivalent of a nod. "Then hold tight," she warned, and suddenly the world blurred as she surged forward with renewed speed.

The forest became a dark tapestry streaking past us, broken only by the occasional glimpse of unconscious forms among the undergrowth. As we raced by, I caught sight of bound werewolves, their wrists clamped in those strange black-glowing chains that seemed to swallow the moonlight rather than reflect it. The metallic scent of blood mixed with something sharper - magic, perhaps - made my stomach clench, but beneath the unease swelled a fierce pride. Ace’s work. Ray’s and Philip’s too. They’d fought through so much already.

Ahead, Ann’s ears pricked forward. "Lady Ovelia," she murmured, her voice barely above a growl, "there’s light up ahead. Faint, but it must be the bandits’ hideout."

The promise of being so close sent my pulse racing. But just as the first flicker of orange light became visible between the trees, Ann’s entire body stiffened beneath me. Her claws dug into the earth as she skidded to an abrupt halt, nearly sending me tumbling over her shoulders. I barely had time to register the danger before a low, threatening growl vibrated through her chest, her muzzle wrinkling to reveal gleaming fangs.

My hands locked in her fur as I followed her fixed stare toward the rustling bushes to our left. Every muscle in my body tensed, my breath coming in short, sharp bursts. The forest had gone eerily silent - no insects, no owls, just the ominous whisper of leaves and the pounding of my own heart.