Chapter 51 - 50: A Merchant’s Way of Surviving
Then—a roar.
It wasn’t a sound so much as a force, a guttural, inhuman noise that rolled through the trees and slammed into them like a shockwave.
From the edge of the shadows, it emerged.
A shape that had once resembled a wolf—if wolves were starved, stretched, and twisted by nightmares. Its spine jutted out like jagged ridges of obsidian, each vertebra stark beneath patches of thin, mangy fur the color of rot. Muscle wrapped around its emaciated frame like cables strung too tight. Its face—
A skull. A literal, sun-bleached canine skull. No flesh. No lips. Just grinning, predatory bone. Its eyes burned—two green flames flickering in empty sockets.
Its limbs were wrong. Too long, too thin. Its paws ended not in claws but in crescent-shaped scythes of bone and iron, each one glinting wickedly in the firelight.
Darien’s jaw tightened as his hand found the hilt of his sword. "Damn. This one had to show up."
He drew his blade in one fluid motion. "Wraith-class predator."
The Red Band drew their weapons immediately.
Kael instinctively moved closer to Seris—who stepped in front of him without hesitation.
"Stay behind me," she said, her voice low but firm.