The Wolf's Queen Vows

Chapter 46: Battle Night

Aveloria stepped forward, her sword raised. The air around her seemed to hold its breath. Every sound was sharper now, the crunch of boots, the faint rustle of leaves. She could hear her own heartbeat.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then a shape lunged from the shadows.

Galen caught it mid-air, his blade slicing through its shoulder. The creature hit the ground, snarling, its body grotesque and twisted, half-human, half-wolf, eyes black as ink. It screamed like a dying animal before crawling back into the darkness.

"Wanderer!" one of the men shouted.

More growls followed. Five, seven, maybe ten, all closing in.

Aveloria’s wolf surged closer to the surface, her pulse racing. She wasn’t afraid, only focused.

"Tonight," she called out, her voice ringing through the clearing, "the hunt begins!"

The soldiers roared in answer, tightening their grip on their weapons.

The first wave came from the shadows, three Wanderers, charging fast. Galen met the first head-on, his sword cleaving into its chest. Aveloria caught the second, blocking its claws with her blade before driving her sword through its ribs. The third leapt toward a soldier, but two others tackled it before it could strike.

Blood splattered the dirt. The smell of decay mixed with fresh iron. Galen fought with precise, clean movements. His wolf strength showed in every strike. "Keep the line tight!" he shouted.

Aveloria’s armor was heavier now, sweat running down her neck, but she didn’t back down. She moved quickly, deflecting claws, striking when the Wanderers opened their guard.

One lunged at her from behind, but Galen intercepted it, pulling it down by the neck and snapping it simultaneously. She turned, breathing hard. "You saved me. Thank you."

He gave a quick smirk. "Get used to it."

The fight lasted only minutes, but it felt much longer. The clearing fell silent again when the last Wanderers fell, except for the soldiers’ heavy breathing.

Aveloria lowered her sword slowly, scanning the tree line. "Is that all of them?"

Galen looked around. "For now."

One of the soldiers stepped forward, wiping blood from his face. "They came too easily. Almost like they wanted to be seen."

Aveloria frowned. "They were testing us."

"Then we passed," Galen said. "But they’ll come again."

She looked at the broken bodies on the ground, twisted and barely recognizable. Her stomach turned, but she didn’t let it show. "We’ll burn the remains. No one touches them."

The men nodded and began gathering wood. Galen stood beside her, sword still in hand.

"You handled yourself well," he said quietly.

She gave him a small look. "You doubted I could?"

He shook his head. "Never. But it’s different seeing you fight. You didn’t hesitate."

"I couldn’t," she said. "If I freeze, people die. I can’t afford that."

He studied her face. "You’re too hard on yourself."

"I have to be. They expect me to be strong." She said.

Galen looked down for a moment. "You already are."

Their eyes met briefly, the silence between them heavier than the battle. Then she turned toward the soldiers. "We’ll rest somewhere close until dawn. Keep the perimeter guarded. I want two men watching the east line at all times."

"Yes, heiress," one of them said.

As they began setting campfires, Galen stayed near her side. He cleaned his sword slowly, glancing at her now and then.

"You know," he said after a while, "if your mother could see you tonight, she’d be proud."

Aveloria’s throat tightened slightly, but she didn’t look away from the flames. "I hope so."

"She would," he said firmly. "You led well. You fought well. You reminded them who you are."

Aveloria exhaled. "This was just the beginning. If they’re already this close, we’ll see worse before it’s over."

"Then we’ll face it together," Galen said.

She finally turned to him. "Together."

The fire crackled between them. The forest was still again, but not peaceful; it was just waiting. Somewhere in the distance, a faint howl rose and then faded.

Galen looked toward the sound, his jaw set. "They’re not done with us yet."

Aveloria nodded. "Then neither are we."

She tightened her grip on her sword, eyes fixed on the dark woods beyond the firelight. Whatever came next, she was ready.

The smell of burning flesh filled the air as the warriors prepared to set fire to the Wanderers’ corpses. The clearing was quiet except for the crackling of the woods being lit. The men worked quickly, stacking the twisted, half-shifted bodies in a pile. Aveloria stood a few feet away, her sword still in her hand, eyes on the dark forest around them.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t over.

Galen was near her, watching the men work. He wanted this done fast so they could return to the palace before dawn.

"Burn them quickly," he ordered. "We don’t leave remains behind. Their blood attracts more of them."

The soldiers nodded, dragging the last of the corpses toward the pile. Just as one of them lowered his torch to set it alight, a sound broke the stillness, low, deep, and drawn-out.

It came again. Growls. Not one or two, but dozens, echoing through the trees from every direction.

"Form up!" Galen shouted instantly.

The soldiers dropped the torches and ran to their positions. Swords came out, shields locked, spears raised.

Aveloria turned, scanning the tree line. Movement grew louder, leaves rustling, branches breaking under heavy weight. She could smell them now: rot, decay, blood.

Then the mist came, rolling low across the ground like smoke. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

"Galen..." she said, her voice steady but low.

He nodded, eyes narrowing. "I hear it."

The growls grew sharper, closer. And then they came.

From every side, dark figures burst out of the mist. Dozens of them, twisted, half-shifted bodies with eyes like black oil and mouths filled with jagged teeth. Fifty at least, maybe more.

"Defensive circle!" Galen barked.

The soldiers reacted instantly, forming a tight ring around Aveloria and Galen. Shields faced outward, weapons ready. The Wanderers didn’t hesitate. They charged simultaneously, a wave of rotting flesh and snapping jaws.

The first impact was brutal. The sound of metal meeting bone echoed through the clearing, and screams, growls, and the clash of steel filled the night.

Aveloria’s sword flashed as she met the first Wanderer head-on. It lunged, and she cut through its arm, spinning to drive her blade through its chest. It didn’t die right away. It clawed at her until she shoved it off with a sharp kick and struck again, severing its head. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

Another came from behind. She ducked under its swing, thrust upward, and pierced its throat. Blood splattered across her armor. Her heart raced, but she didn’t slow down.

Across from her, Galen was fighting two at once. His sword sliced through one, but the other managed to claw his side, tearing through the leather and skin. He grunted, ignoring the pain, and countered with a decisive strike that split its skull.

"Hold formation!" he shouted.

The men fought fiercely, but the Wanderers were too many. They came from every direction, fast and relentless. One soldier went down, dragged away, screaming. Another was tackled, his throat torn open before anyone could reach him.

"Stay together!" Galen roared again, parrying a heavy blow.

Aveloria’s breath came fast, her muscles burning. She moved on instinct now, each swing driven by the need to survive and protect her men.