The forest didn't sleep that night.
Every tree seemed to lean closer, every branch whispering secrets, warning of what was coming. The wind carried howls from the east—long, sharp, hunting howls. Caleb had heard them before in Ronan's training sessions. But these weren't warnings.
They were declarations.
The Red Howl was in Misty Pines.
Ronan stood near the treeline, his eyes fixed on the dark horizon. He didn't speak. Didn't blink. Just listened. Lena stayed close to Caleb, crossbow gripped in white-knuckled hands, her breath visible in the suddenly icy air.
"They're close," she whispered.
"Too close," Ronan growled. "They're not waiting anymore. They're forcing your hand."
Caleb's chest burned. The mark on his shoulder had begun to pulse again—each throb syncing with the howls in the distance.
"They're trying to draw me out," he said.
"No," Ronan replied. "They're trying to drag you in."
Suddenly—
Snap.
A twig behind them.
Lena spun. Ronan drew a blade from beneath his coat.
But it wasn't a wolf that emerged from the trees.
It was Sheriff Dawson, blood trickling down his temple, shirt torn, eyes wide with something between fear and fury.
"They hit the station," he rasped. "Came in fast—not human. Took three deputies. Left the walls painted red."
Lena rushed to him. "How did you get out?"
"They let me," he said, voice shaking. "They said… they wanted me to deliver a message."
Caleb stepped forward. "What message?"
Dawson looked at him. "You have until the next full moon. Turn yourself in to the Red Howl."
He swallowed. "Or they'll start killing one person in town. Every night."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Lena shook her head. "They're bluffing."
Ronan didn't look so sure. "They've done worse for less."
Caleb clenched his fists. "This is my fault."
"No," Ronan said. "This is your birthright."
Caleb stared out into the forest. The trees loomed like sentinels, ancient and waiting.
"I'm done running," he said. "If they want me—"
He looked to Lena, then to Ronan.
"—they can come get me. But I'm not going alone. Not this time."
Dawson gave a tight nod. "Then we hold the line."
From deep within the woods, a new howl echoed—lower, guttural, inhuman.
A war cry.
And Caleb knew:
The next chapter in this fight wouldn't be a chase.
It would be a massacre.