James made his way back down the rocky slope of the small mountain.
Honestly, he could have just jumped off the cliff side—the drop wouldn't have damaged his skin in the slightest—but he opted for the scenic route instead.
As he walked, he kept racking his brain for more creative ways to weaponize his shadow.
If darkness naturally had the property to absorb things, he wondered why it didn't cause him to take double damage when he active used it.
He pondered the mechanics of it, the crisp mountain wind blowing hard against his face.
His hair was a complete mess right now.
Luckily for him, he had inherited his mom's curly 4C hair texture, so it wasn't like his strands were flying all over the place in a wild fringe
. It was just tightly coiled and messy. Passing his clawed hand through the dense curls, James made the very astute realization that his ass needed to wash his head soon.
"I wonder if they even have shampoo here?" he muttered to himself.
They probably did, but James assumed it was some all-natural, supernatural concoction that was lowkey more effective than anything bought in a regular store.
For example, Nneka's hair was always beautifully done, and she always carried a really good, earthy scent profile.
He placed both of his hands behind his head, sighing a bit as he leaned his neck back against his palms. He could feel the pure magic saturating the atmosphere.
He didn't know how many times he was going to say it, but the air here just felt incredibly pure.
It felt like the possibilities for what he could do with this energy were entirely endless. There was no stopping him.
Turning his gaze back to the road ahead, he watched the sun beginning to go to bed behind the mountain peaks.
The fading light illuminated the entire hidden pack settlement at just the right angle, casting a golden glow over everything.
From his elevated vantage point, he could see the layout of the town—shops, a bakery, a massive outdoor gym, and some public bathhouses.
His heightened hearing picked up the distant sound of heavy iron weights clanking, people laughing, and a dark-skinned wolf with sharp, pointy ears joking around.
He saw the strange horned rabbits scampering near the wood piles, and further down, Kaela was sharing a drink with Bronn—the aggressive guard who had originally threatened to knock James's shit in when he first woke up in that holding cell.
James could actually smell the heavy scent of the ale from all the way up here. As he scanned the crowd, he noticed people wearing distinct, heavy clothing walking the streets.
He couldn't quite make out the fabric from this distance, so he frowned, consciously shifting his eyesight. His pupils dilated, the golden hue of his wolf eyes sharpening as his vision actively adjusted.
There. Now he could see it clearly.
The clothing seemed to be meticulously crafted from the thick hides of Musk Oxen. That was incredibly neat.
He wondered exactly how far his supernatural vision could zoom in. Even though his vantage point was getting lower as he walked down the path, he focused his eyes even more, pushing the boundary until he could literally see the individual strands of fur on a jacket from hundreds of yards away. That was wild.
Yet, as he was testing his limits, the specific guard he was staring at suddenly paused and looked straight up the mountain path.
James instantly froze. He had completely forgotten that this was a town populated entirely by apex werewolves.
Their sensory perception was ridiculously high; they could intuitively tell if an observer's gaze was locked onto them.
In this case, James had left a massive mental footprint.
Noticing that the sentinel had caught him staring, James let out a wry, sheepish smile and offered a small, awkward wave from the ridge line.
'This is so embarrassing,' he thought, his face heating up.
He did not expect to get caught lacking so quickly.
The guard stared up at him blankly for a long beat, completely unamused, before letting out a heavy sigh and turning back to go about his daily patrol.
James let out a massive sigh of relief, dropping his hands.
That was a close one. He really needed to stop letting his guard down around these people.
James had a choice to make when he arrived at the foot of the hill. Calling it a mountain would be a total disrespect to actual mountains—maybe a gentle slope would do.
He could either go straight back to his quarters, or he could explore the village layout a bit more.
"I still need to hand Selene back her stuff," he muttered, glancing down at the empty medicine container in his palm.
He wondered exactly what kind of fluid had been inside.
Whatever it was, the residual scent profile carried a distinct numbing effect, making him wonder if Luna was actively taking some heavy-duty supernatural painkillers or something similar.
"I could just ask Selene about it," he thought. Decision made, he kept his pace straight down the main path.
Selene's small, rustic clinic was located about two blocks away from a popular local tavern.
James critically noted that placing a bar right next to a medical center was lowkey a genius strategic move; if a chaotic brawl broke out over drinks, the combatants were only a block away from immediate medical attention.
Just as James crossed the threshold into the direct block facing Selene's boutique—
CRASH!
A heavy wooden tavern door came flying entirely out of its frame, splintering across the dirt road.
James's heightened werewolf instincts flared instantly.
He didn't panic; instead, he smoothly weaved his upper body out of the way just as a bleeding, heavily battered pack member was sent flying through the air.
The man crashed violently against the solid stone foundation of an adjacent building.
The stone wall spiderwebbed from the immense kinetic displacement, and the warrior slumped heavily into the dirt, coughing up dark blood.
James quickly walked over to the fallen fighter, looking down with genuine concern. "Yo, are you okay?"
He knew the man possessed supernatural durability and would likely regenerate over the next few hours, but that didn't mean his ass was just going to stand there and watch someone suffer.
Just because you know a person can swim doesn't mean you won't dive into the water to pull them up if they start sinking.
Before James could even offer a hand, a thunderous roar echoed from the ruined doorway of the tavern.
"If any of you bastards think you can talk shit about my squad, you come out here and face me right now!"
James recognized that voice instantly. It was the exact same oppressive register he had heard the night he was turned—the voice of the rogue who had nearly taken his life in the forest, and the very same man who had challenged him in front of the entire assembly.
Turning around, James watched as chaos incarnate stepped into the fading sunlight.
Raze Blackhowl stood at a towering 6'4" of pure, unadulterated muscle, his long black hair framing a rugged face deeply scarred by a lifetime of frontline violence.
He was completely shirtless, his piercing crimson eyes burning with the unmistakable light of a mad wolf.
James immediately noticed how the man's golden-red aura completely enveloped his physical form; his muscle fibers were bulging, his skin looked noticeably tougher, and he seemed to be perfectly integrated with his inner beast without fully shifting into a wolf.
His canine teeth were sharp, and he looked entirely prepared to execute anyone in his path.
'Is this what Luna meant by weaponizing the presence?' James realized, tracking the way the aura clung tightly to Raze's frame.
He closed his eyes for a split second, memorizing the energy signature so he could try replicating the technique later.
The battered man on the ground, however, didn't seem to give a single fuck about the demon staring him down. He spit a glob of blood into the dirt and sneered,
"I don't give a damn who you think you are, pussy. Your attitude is probably the exact reason Luna left your bitch ass."
James almost choked on his own spit. He had never seen a baseline warrior display that much absolute audacity.
'Sir, he literally just posterized you against a stone wall. Please show some survival restraint.'
Predictably, Raze went entirely red, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Oh, you dead-wish piece of trash."
Raze's right fist ignited, his heavy aura focusing into a hyper-dense concentration around his knuckles.
'Is this literally just Ren and Ten from Hunter x Hunter?' James thought, his inner otaku analyzing the energy dynamics.
Despite being caught between two volatile predators, he felt eerily calm.
"Raze, control yourself," a dangerously beautiful female voice commanded from the shadows of the tavern entrance.
Lyra Thornclaw stepped into the light, her long, dark-brown hair secured in a tight, practical warrior's braid.
Her striking emerald eyes scanned the unfolding drama with absolute confidence, her tall, athletic frame radiating an unbothered, authoritative presence.
"The garbage isn't worth the expenditure of your energy."
"Maybe we should just show him his permanent place in the dirt," another voice chimed in amusement.
Toren Stormclaw stepped forward, his silver-white hair catching the last golden rays of sunset as vibrant arcs of blue electricity crackled violently across his fingertips.
He looked like he hadn't slept a single consecutive hour in three years, his bright blue eyes carrying a manic gleam.
"Toren, shut up. Do not entertain this idiocy," snapped Kael Ashfang, a lean, silver-haired vanguard with sharp amber eyes and severe, historic burn scars covering his torso.
He was smiling faintly—mostly because Toren's chaotic lightning magic was actively threatening to spark a fire against the wooden awning.
Raze simply let out a low, predatory chuckle. "The bastard initiated the insult, Lyra."
The injured man on the ground gritted his teeth, forcing himself upright against the cracked stone. "I didn't stutter, coward. You heard exactly what I said."
Raze completely lost his temper. Cocking his glowing fist back, he rushed forward with clear, lethal intent. "You're dead!"
James, who was still standing directly beside the fallen warrior, tracked the trajectory of the oncoming strike perfectly.
With the man's current compromised physical state, absorbing a full-force blow from Raze would easily send him into a permanent coma.
On pure, unfiltered instinct, James let his darkness magic flare, a dense glove of shadow wrapping tightly around his palm.
Kael Ashfang's amber eyes narrowed instantly, his gaze locking onto the sudden gathering of elemental energy around the newcomer's hand.
The target didn't flinch, offering one last defiant smile. "Try your best, pussy."
BAM!
Raze's fist never connected with the man's face.
The dirt road violently cracked beneath their feet, kicking up a massive cloud of dust. Raze internally assumed he had successfully pulverized his target, thinking to himself that the strike would teach the pack a definitive lesson.
But as the dust quickly settled, the reality of the exchange became clear.
Raze's massive, glowing fist was caught firmly within the center of James's shadow-coated palm.
"I think that's enough. You've beaten him plenty," James said evenly.
Internally, his hand felt like he had just tried to physically halt a moving freight train; the impact hurt like a absolute motherfucker, but the massive surge of adrenaline completely numbed the pain.
Raze's dark brow furrowed, his crimson eyes tracking up the arm to see who had dared to intercept his strike. "You!"
Recognizing James's face, a wide, sadistic smile slowly stretched across Raze's features. Pulling his hand back, he let out a dark laugh.
"Today must genuinely be my lucky day." He was visibly giddy. Under standard pack law, he wasn't allowed to actively hunt the newborn human pup down to beat his ass, but here the kid was, willingly interrupting a conflict. He was going to thoroughly enjoy breaking him.
"You've done enough damage. He's already passed out," James added, gesturing to the man behind him who had completely lost consciousness from the raw wind pressure of the intercepted punch alone.
It baffled James that the guy had the absolute gall to rage-bait Raze while being that close to his physical limit.
"Who the hell do you think you are, giving me directives?" Raze bared his elongated canine teeth, his voice sounding like a wild, feral animal.
The pressure radiating off him was immense, but compared to the crushing standards of Alpha Aldric, Kaela, and Luna, this aura felt significantly weaker. His nails began to elongate into dark claws.
"Oh, so that's the human boy," Toren muttered, a manic grin spreading across his face as he watched the standoff.
This was turning out to be an incredibly entertaining afternoon. He had heard rumors about the turned human Raze had failed to eliminate in the woods.
"So that is the legendary pup," Lyra's smooth voice carried over the wind.
James suddenly felt the distinct sensation of being entirely surrounded. Looking around, he realized there were six highly unfamiliar, powerful vanguard elites currently blocking the perimeter.
It was the absolute perfect recipe for a jumping.
"What brings you to this specific sector of the compound?" another voice inquired calmly.
The speaker looked remarkably like Luna, though her features differed from Luna's; her hair was stark white instead of silver, and her eyes carried a completely pale, frosted hue.
Her entire presence radiated an extreme, biting frost.
If Luna's demeanor was cold like frozen metal, this woman was like pure arctic ice—hypothermia-level cold.
"Uh... I was just returning this empty gourd to Selene. Running an errand," James explained, holding up the container.
The elite vanguard group immediately picked up on the faint, sweet scent of the medical nectar lingering on the wood.
The white-haired woman let out a soft sigh of realization, clearly recognizing the specific formula.
But as Raze caught the scent profile, he didn't look at the gourd.
Instead, his nostrils flared as he took a deep, aggressive sniff of the ambient mountain breeze, tracking the specific residual scent signatures clinging heavily to James's skin and bare shoulders.
Instantly, the casual amusement completely vanished from Raze's face.
His crimson eyes flared with a sudden, psychotic fury, the veins in his neck bulging violently as the glowing crimson cracks of his specialized bloodfire magic began to pulse across his chest and arms.
"Why..." Raze growled, his voice dropping into a terrifying, demonic register that vibrated through the dirt. "Why the hell do you smell so heavily of her?"
Oh, fuck.
James blinked, his mind frantically trying to process the lethal shift in the air. 'Her? Who the hell is her? Selene?' "Wait, who—"
Before James could even finish the sentence, Raze exploded forward.
BOOM!
A massive fist cloaked in molten, burning bloodfire launched straight toward James's face.
Guided entirely by the brutal, life-saving reflexes Luna had just beaten into his muscle memory over the last thirty minutes, James didn't freeze.
He instinctively dropped his center of mass, utilizing a desperate, rapid slip-and-weave to duck directly underneath the blazing strike.
The sheer heat of the passing fist literally singed the coiled tips of his curly hair.
"Oh?" Raze sneered, his eyes widening in dark surprise as James leaped backward to create immediate distance, narrowly avoiding a lightning-fast follow-up sweeping kick that would have effortlessly snapped a human neck.
"So the fragile newbie learned how to move? That won't change a single thing!"
James's internal anxiety instantly inverted into pure, unadulterated annoyance. 'This guy is exceptionally irritating.'
"I asked you a question, parasite!" Raze roared, his muscles expanding in mass as he prepared to lung again, fully intending to completely knock James's lights out and erase him from the bedrock.
"Why were you with Luna?!"
Raze launched himself forward like a heat-seeking missile, his claws dripping with molten fire.
James braced his stance, his core tightening as he prepared to fight for his absolute survival. Cocking his right fist back, James let his darkness magic completely coat his arm, pouring every ounce of his available strength into the strike.
If this dick wanted a fight, a fight he was going to get.
BAM!
Right as their fists were about to collide, a massive shadow materialized directly between them, intercepting both strikes simultaneously.
A violent shockwave of dust and displaced air erupted outward, obscuring the street.
James felt an immediate shock run up his arm, feeling like he had just punched an immovable brick wall.
"Raze, control your impulses," a rough, imposing voice commanded through the dust cloud. Thane stood firmly in the center, his massive hands effortlessly holding both of their fists at a complete standstill.
"If the Alpha were to discover you actively assaulted the asset before the formal challenge date, the repercussions would be severe."
"Tch. You don't need to remind me, Varric ," Raze spat, looking thoroughly annoyed as he snapped his hand back.
He knew the friend was right; violating Aldric's direct decree would result in severe disciplinary action from the high council.
Raze turned his burning crimson gaze back to James, giving him a look of absolute, unmitigated death.
"You better utilize these next two weeks wisely, human. The Alpha's protection order can only shield your life for so long."
Without another word, Raze turned on his heel and stormed back toward the tavern, his vanguard squad silently falling into formation behind him.
James stood in the settling dust, slowly lowering his hand as his darkness subsided. He looked down at his shaking palm, then out toward the disappearing group, the reality of the situation sinking in. The countdown was officially ticking.
A/N...vote with powerstones