The forest loomed ahead, its towering trees casting long, menacing shadows under the pale moonlight. Adrian and Alina ran, their breaths coming in ragged gasps as the howls of the pursuing werewolves echoed behind them. The weight of exhaustion clung to Adrian's limbs, but he forced himself to push forward. They had to reach the ruins.
Alina's grip on the silver dagger tightened. Though she had held her ground in battle, the terror in her eyes betrayed her fear. Yet, she refused to be a burden. She matched Adrian's pace, her determination unwavering despite the overwhelming danger that surrounded them.
"How much farther?" she asked between hurried breaths.
Adrian scanned the dense forest ahead. "Not far. The ruins should be just beyond this ridge."
A sudden snarl cut through the air, and Adrian barely had time to react as a dark blur lunged from the trees. He shoved Alina aside and twisted, his instincts kicking in as the werewolf's claws slashed toward him. He caught its wrist, using its own momentum to throw it aside. The beast hit the ground hard, but it wasn't alone.
Three more wolves emerged from the shadows, their golden eyes gleaming with bloodlust. Adrian knew they couldn't fight them all—not in his wounded state. He could feel the pull of his wolf, the urge to shift and unleash his true power, but he fought against it. Losing control now would mean the end.
Alina took a step back, her breathing unsteady. "We can't outrun them."
Adrian's mind raced. They needed a plan. And fast.
Then, as if in answer to his silent plea, a powerful gust of wind tore through the trees. The ground trembled slightly, and the air grew thick with an unfamiliar energy. From the shadows, the same mysterious figure from before appeared, his red eyes glowing in the darkness.
"Enough," the figure's voice rang out, cutting through the tension like a blade.
The werewolves hesitated, their ears flattening as they turned toward the intruder. Even the pack leader, who had been so confident moments ago, took a wary step back.
"Who are you?" Adrian demanded, his voice steady despite the uncertainty gripping him.
The figure stepped forward, his long, tattered robes billowing around him. "I told you before, Blackwood. I am not your enemy. But the choices you make now will determine the fate of all."
Adrian felt a cold chill run down his spine. The weight of those words settled heavily on him. The ruins were close, but something told him that reaching them wouldn't be the end of their ordeal. It was only the beginning.
The figure's gaze shifted toward Alina, his expression unreadable. "You carry something powerful within you, girl. Something even you do not yet understand. The talisman calls to you."
Alina's hand instinctively went to the small pendant around her neck—a family heirloom she had worn for as long as she could remember. Her brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"
Before the figure could answer, another howl pierced the night. The werewolves had recovered from their hesitation, and their patience had run out.
"We have to move," Adrian said, gripping Alina's wrist. "Now."
The ruins lay ahead, their safety uncertain, but there was no other choice. As they sprinted forward, the shadows behind them came alive with movement, and the hunt resumed.
The past was catching up to them, and time was running out.