Chapter 23 Web of Hunters

The streets of Hidden Keep were no longer the quiet, winding alleys she had wandered days ago. Now, they pulsed with danger. Guards patrolled in pairs, armor clinking under the fading sun, and whispers filled the air like smoke. Everyone was searching. Everyone was watching.

Elara clutched her bag tighter. The Codex felt heavier than stone, its whispers brushing against her mind.

North… the north gate…

She tried to ignore it, but the voice came again, sharp as a blade.

Run, little wolf. Or bleed where you stand.

Her breath hitched. Pressing herself into the shadow of a wall, she froze as two Hunters Guild men passed, their cloaks dark, their eyes glowing faintly with the Elders’ mark. They sniffed the air like hounds. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest.

Step by careful step, she slipped toward the northern road. But the closer she came, the clearer the truth became, they were guarding the exits. There was no safe way out.

Then one of the Hunters stopped. His head snapped up, nostrils flaring. Slowly, his gaze locked on hers.

••

Kael

The stone walls of Hidden Keep loomed in the distance, black against the bleeding sky. Even from afar, Kael could sense the wards, crackling like fire through his veins. The Elders had tightened their hold, desperate to trap whoever had stolen from them.

But he knew. He could smell her.

“Elara,” he growled, pressing a clawed hand against the bark of an ancient oak. Her scent was faint, buried beneath layers of ward-magic, but it was there, wild, sharp, alive.

Jake had been right. She had come here. And now she was in the middle of a nest she couldn’t possibly escape alone.

His claws dug into the tree, wood splintering. Every instinct screamed to tear down the wards, storm the gates, and drag her out. But that would trigger the Elders’ traps.

His eyes scanned the cliffside. There a crumbled section of wall, half-swallowed by vines and ruins. The wards shimmered faintly, weaker but still deadly. If he misstepped, the magic would burn through his flesh and bone.

Did it matter?

She was inside. And he would not leave her to the Elders’ lies.

••

Dorian's

The salt of the sea still clung to Dorian’s clothes, but he no longer cared for the dock, the crates, or the rhythm of labor. His chest burned with a single thought, Elara.

He had left the harbor the moment the rumor reached him. A relic stolen. The Hidden Keep in chaos. It hadn’t taken long to piece together.

“Elara…” he whispered her name into the wind as his boots pounded the dirt road. The forest thickened around him, shadows stretching long as the sun dipped lower. Each step drew him closer to the Keep, to the one place no sane man would enter willingly.

But the pull was undeniable. It wasn’t only duty. It wasn’t only guilt. Somewhere deep in the ache of his chest, he knew he couldn’t stand by while she faced this storm alone.

This time, he would find her. This time, he wouldn’t let her slip away.

••

Elara's

The Hunter’s lips curled into a slow grin.

“There,” he hissed. His partner turned, eyes narrowing, nostrils flaring.

Elara’s blood ran cold. She stumbled back, clutching the bag to her chest. The Codex pulsed, hot against her side, its voice curling like smoke around her fear.

Blood shall open the way. Yours… or theirs.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head.

The Hunters advanced. One hand reached for her, silver glinting in the dying light.

She spun around, desperate, but the alley was narrow, blocked by crates. A dead end. Her breath came in ragged gasps.

The Codex thrummed louder, alive in her arms. Symbols on its cover glowed faintly, red as embers.

From the street, shouts rose as more boots thundered closer. The entire Keep was closing in.

Beyond the walls, Kael’s claws sank into ancient stone, ready to break the wards.

On the forest path, Dorian’s heart pounded, his steps quickening toward the gates.

And inside the Keep, Elara stood trapped, Hunters closing in, the Codex burning against her skin.

If the Elders thought they were the only ones searching for her…

They were wrong.

The alley was a coffin. Narrow, dark, and sealed at the end with nothing but rotting crates. Elara’s back hit the wood as two Hunters advanced, silver glinting in the dim light. Their cloaks whispered against the cobblestones, their eyes glowing faintly with the Elders’ mark.

The Codex pulsed against her ribs, searing hot, its voice curling like smoke in her skull.

Blood shall open the way. Yours… or theirs.

She shook her head violently, clutching the strap of her bag. “No. Not you. Not like this.”

The Hunters grinned as if they’d already won. One raised his blade.

Then, chaos. A scream tore through the street beyond the alley. Shouts, the crash of stone, the burst of fire. The Hunters froze, their attention yanked toward the disturbance.

“Over there!” one barked, turning sharply. The other cursed, and together they darted back toward the noise.

Elara’s chest heaved, relief flooding her. She didn’t wait. With trembling hands, she scrambled up the crates, splinters biting her palms, and vaulted over the stack just as more boots thundered toward the alley. She landed hard, knees stinging, but she kept running.

••

Outside the Keep, Kael’s claws dug into the vine-wrapped stones of the crumbling wall. Wards hissed against his skin, burning channels of light into his arms, but he didn’t stop.

“Argh,” he growled, muscles straining. Sparks of ward-magic spat into the air as he forced his body through. His veins felt like they were on fire, but when the stone finally cracked, he bared his teeth and shoved harder.

The wall gave. Just enough for him to slip inside.

The stench of Hunters and ward-magic filled his lungs. Beneath it all, faint but alive, was her scent. Wild. Sharp. His heart hammered.

She was close. Too close to danger.

••

Dorian moved like a shadow along the forest’s edge. The last light of the sun bled into the horizon, leaving the Hidden Keep wrapped in crimson and black. He could see the gates from where he crouched, heavily guarded, wards shimmering in the air like heat.

Not that way.

He slid into the trees, boots silent against the moss. Rumors of a smuggler’s trail had brought him here, to a narrow track carved between roots and stone. He prayed it was true.

A snap behind him. He froze.

Voices murmured low, too quiet to be guards. His hand went to his dagger as he realized, he wasn’t the only one trying to slip into the Keep tonight.

The Council had sent more than just Hunters.

Inside the walls, Elara pressed herself against the shadows of a crowded street. Torches flared at every corner, guards dragging strangers into the open, demanding answers.

At the heart of the square, an Elder’s voice rang out, cold and commanding.

“The Codex of Nightfall has been stolen. This book holds power enough to unmake worlds. Anyone concealing it will burn for their treachery.”

The crowd recoiled in terror. Mothers clutched children closer. Men lowered their eyes. And Elara stood among them, her bag heavy against her hip, her throat tight with dread.

They knew. They knew exactly what she carried.

She slipped toward the northern road, weaving through frightened faces, until two Hunters stepped into her path.

“There,” one hissed, eyes flashing. “The scent, she’s here!”