Red's Wolf

Red

The wolf’s blood dripped from my silver blade, staining the pristine snow beneath my boots. Each red drop echoed the shade of my hair. The mark of my bloodline, of the power that coursed through my veins. I watched the beast’s last breath mist in the frigid mountain air. Its yellow eyes dulled as death claimed it. This wasn’t the one I sought. Just another predator that had strayed too close to our village.

I wiped my blade clean on my red cloak, the fabric already dark with wear and old stains. Grandmother had sewn it for my sixteenth birthday, the day of my initiation. Three years had passed, but I could still taste the metallic tang of wolf’s blood on my tongue from that night. Feel the ancient magic burning through my body as it awakened the hunter’s gifts. They were my birthright.

I needed to move quickly. Tracking was harder in darkness, even with my enhanced senses. The wind carried the sharp bite of winter fear. It clung to the trees like frost, a reminder of why I was out here. Little Sophie Carter had vanished two nights ago, the third disappearance this month.

My boots crunched through the snow as I followed a second set of tracks. Larger than the wolf I’d just killed, with an odd gait that spoke of something not quite natural. The prints led deeper into the forest. Away from the well-worn paths that connected our village to the outside world. Not that many outsiders ventured this far into the mountains. We preferred it that way. Easier to keep our secrets.

The memory of my initiation flickered through my mind as I tracked. I remembered Grandmother’s words as she prepared the ritual. Her silver-streaked red hair glowing in the candlelight of our basement sanctuary.

“The gift comes with a price, Redinna.” she had said, drawing the ceremonial dagger across the throat of the captured wolf. “Our power is bound to our purpose. To protect. To hunt. To kill those who threaten the innocent. Love your prey, and the power fades. Remember that.”

I hadn’t understood then why she’d emphasized that last part, her voice catching on the word “love.” Now, after years of training and hunting. After learning more about our family’s history. I suspected there was a story there. But Grandmother kept some secrets closer than others.

The tracks I followed disappeared near a clearing. I crouched, pressing my palm to the disturbed snow. Still warm. My heightened senses picked up the lingering scent of wolf. But wrong somehow. Corrupted. Mixed with something that made my stomach turn.

A twig snapped behind me.

I spun, blade drawn, but the forest remained still. Darkness had crept in while I tracked, and the first stars pierced the purple sky above the trees. The moon would be full in three nights. A blood moon, according to Grandmother’s warnings. The air felt heavy with anticipation like the forest itself was holding its breath.

Movement caught my eye. A shadow darker than the rest, slipping between trees at the clearing’s edge. I pursued, my boots silent now as I activated another gift of my bloodline. We called it ghost-walking: the ability to move without sound. To become almost invisible to normal senses. It didn’t work as well on supernatural creatures, but it gave me an edge.

The shadow led me to a ravine I knew well. In summer, a stream ran through it, but now it was frozen over, the ice thick enough to walk on. The tracks resumed here, leading down into the darkness. And there, half-buried in the snow...

“No,” I whispered, the word forming a small cloud in the frigid air.

Sophie Carter’s red mittens lay torn and bloody on the ice. Beside them, a larger dark shape slowly emerged as I brushed away snow. The girl’s body was frozen solid, her face locked in an expression of terror. But it was the wounds that made my blood run cold. She hadn’t just been killed, she’d been changed. Or someone had tried to. The bite marks on her neck and shoulders were unmistakable. But different from normal wolf attacks. These were deliberate, placed to trigger transformation.

I’d seen this before, in Grandmother’s books. Werewolf attacks meant to turn humans into pack members. But the girl’s small body had rejected the change. Leaving her trapped between forms when death took her. Her fingers had elongated into partial claws, fur had begun to sprout in patches. Her teeth had sharpened to points.

Bile rose in my throat. In three years of hunting, I’d never seen anything this cruel. Normal werewolves, if you could call them that, rarely turned children. It was considered taboo even among their kind. This was something else. Something worse.

A howl split the night. Deep, commanding, and closer than I liked. It was answered by others. At least five distinct voices creating a horrible harmony that made the hair on my neck stand up. Not normal wolves. The sound carried too much intelligence, too much malice.

I needed to get Sophie’s body back to the village, but the howls were getting closer. My senses screamed danger, and I’d learned to trust them. I whispered a quick prayer over the girl’s frozen form and marked the location in my mind. I would return with help. For now, I had to warn the village.

The run back consisted of shadow and snow. I ghost-walked when I could, but speed was more important than stealth now. The howls followed, sometimes closer, sometimes farther, as if they were herding me. Playing with me. My lungs burned in the cold air, and my legs ached, but I didn’t slow down. I couldn’t.

The village lights appeared through the trees like stars fallen to earth. I burst from the forest’s edge, my red cloak billowing behind me. The howls stopped abruptly, as if cut off by a knife. They wouldn’t follow me this close to the settlement. Not yet, anyway. But they wanted me to know they were there. Watching. Waiting.

Grandmother stood on our porch as if she’d been expecting me. Her own red cloak wrapped tight against the cold. One look at my face told her everything she needed to know.

“Come inside, Redinna,” she said softly. “There are things we need to discuss. Things I should have told you sooner.”

I followed her into our house, the warmth wrapping around me like an embrace. But I couldn’t shake the chill that had settled in my bones. Grandmother locked the door and drew protective sigils in salt across the threshold. I thought about Sophie Carter’s broken body and the howls that had chased me home.

Something evil had come to our mountains. Something that broke the ancient laws of both hunters and werewolves. And as I watched Grandmother’s hands shake slightly as she worked her protections. I realized she knew more about what we were facing than she’d let on.

The time for keeping secrets was over. There was a storm coming. I needed to know everything if I was going to protect our people from what lurked in the darkness beyond the trees.