Chapter 32: The Wolf Returns
The eyeless wolf stared in my direction, its blank face pointed right at my heart.
I didn’t move.
I didn’t even dare to breathe. I held the air in my chest until it burned, until my lungs screamed. I remembered the grey-haired man’s warning - they hear your heartbeat if you panic. So I tried to stop my heart too.
Its head tilted slightly, like a dog hearing a strange sound. The moonlight shone off its smooth, eyeless skin.
Then, without warning, without a growl, it turned away. Just like that. One second it was locked onto me, the next it lost interest.
The wolf disappeared back into the shadows of the night, melting into the pines below, dragging the driver’s body with it like it was nothing. One moment it was there, a nightmare in silver, the next it was just darkness and wind again.
I remained frozen, crouched behind the stone pillar, hand over my mouth, not moving for a full minute.
"What...?" I whispered, finally letting out a breath that came out as a choked gasp.
Why did it leave? It had us. We were right there, asleep, easy meat.
I watched the darkness where it had disappeared, eyes wide, afraid to blink. My eyes watered from staring.
What’s it returning for? Or... what is it doing?
I didn’t understand. Wolves don’t leave food. Especially not eyeless wolves. The one in the forest had chased us until its legs were cut off. They never stop.
It had found us. It knew exactly where we were. I saw its nose twitch toward me. So why didn’t it attack? Why walk away?
I stayed awake for the rest of my watch, staring into the darkness where it vanished, every muscle locked, my rock held so tight my fingers went numb. Every time the wind moved a branch, I flinched, sure it was coming back up the path.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that the wolf was still nearby. Not gone, just... watching us. Waiting for something. Circling.
Waiting for us to be deeper asleep, maybe.
Eventually, my shift ended. My two hours felt like ten. When I finally shook the grey-haired man’s shoulder, my hand was shaking so badly I could barely touch him.
He woke instantly, hand on his knife, eyes sharp.
"Anything?"
I opened my mouth, then closed it. I wanted to tell him, but my throat was dry and the fear made me sound crazy even to myself. "Nothing... just cold."
The others took their turns while I finally rested, but I didn’t really sleep. I lay with one eye open, coat over my face, listening to every crunch in the snow, waiting for that blank face to appear over the edge of the path.
Then morning came, slow and grey. No sunrise, just a lightening of the clouds.
The first light of the sun appeared between the mountains, weak and pale, barely enough to warm the snow.
I sat up instantly, despite having only slept maybe an hour, and immediately looked around, down the mountain, toward the pines where I saw it.
The wolf was gone. No tracks in the fresh snow that I could see from up here. No blood. No head. As if I had imagined it. As if the night had been a bad dream.
But I couldn’t forget what I had seen. The way its teeth had been too many. The blood steam.
When everyone was awake, rubbing their hands, coughing from the cold, I decided to tell them. I had to.
"I saw the eyeless wolf last night," I said, voice hoarse. "Down there. It was eating someone. It looked at me."
The thin prisoner stopped what he was doing, which was trying to squeeze water from snow into his mouth. He stared at me.
Then he scoffed, loud and sharp.
"Stop lying. Stop trying to scare us, you little cursed brat."
"I’m not lying!" I snapped, standing up, anger flaring after a night of fear. "It was right below the path! It dragged a body! It has no eyes!"
"Then why do you think it came here? Huh? Tell me that?" He folded his arms, smug, back to his old self now that the sun was up. "There’s no way that wolf could have found us after we left. We climbed all the way up here, half a mountain, through ice! Dogs can’t track through this. Nothing can. We left no scent."
Danny frowned, fists tightening.
"I saw it. I know what I saw. It was bigger than the one before."
The thin prisoner shook his head, laughing now, cruel.
"Don’t tell me you’re trying to jinx us again. First you say you’re cursed, now you see wolves everywhere. You’re just scared of the dark, kid. You should have stayed in the village and burned with your family instead of making us listen to your nightmares."
The name of my village did it.
Danny clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms, breaking the scab again.
"This bastard... I’ll kill you..."
"Enough." The grey-haired man’s voice cut through, cold and tired.
He stepped between us, placing a hand on each of our chests, pushing us apart. He looked tired, his injured arm looking worse in the morning light, yellow and swollen.
He looked at Danny, really looked at his eyes, seeing the red, sleepless fear in them. Then at the thin prisoner, seeing his dismissive arrogance.
"You may both have a point." He said it carefully.
The thin prisoner opened his mouth, triumphant.
"But— see? He—"
"We don’t know for sure." The grey-haired man cut him off and looked toward the forest below, toward the exact spot Danny had pointed at. His eyes narrowed. "The wind last night was from the north. It could carry scent down, not up. But those things... they don’t hunt normal. They hunt by Echo sometimes."
The thin prisoner went quiet.
The grey-haired man looked toward the forest, then back at us.
"If Danny really saw the wolf, then we can’t ignore it. That thing didn’t attack for a reason. Maybe it went to get its pack. Maybe it’s leading something else."
He tightened the strap around his belongings, pulling his coat tighter, decision made.
"But if the wolf wasn’t here, staying here won’t help us either. We freeze if we stay. So we don’t stay to argue."
He looked at both of them, his leader voice back.
"So we’ll prepare and leave. Now. We move fast and get to the imperial road before dark. No more talking."
Danny nodded, still angry but relieved someone believed enough to move.
The thin prisoner reluctantly did the same, muttering "waste of time" under his breath, but packing quickly.
They quickly gathered their belongings - which was almost nothing - shook snow off coats, tied sacks, checked the path ahead.
Nobody said another word. The argument had left a cold feeling worse than the wind.
But Danny kept looking toward the trees below as they left, over his shoulder, again and again.
He couldn’t forget the sight of that eyeless head turning toward him. That blood-covered mouth smiling with too many teeth.
Something about it felt wrong. Very wrong. Wolves don’t leave. Wolves don’t smile and walk away.
It wasn’t hunting. It was... checking. Like a scout.
The three of them left the camp, stepping onto the old path, moving higher toward where the imperial road should be, their footprints fresh in the new snow.
None of them noticed the faint tracks leading through the snow behind their camp, not from below, but from above, from further up the mountain, coming down toward them.
Large, clawed, with no boot marks between them, circling their sleeping spot while Danny had been watching the wrong direction.
Something had followed them, not from below, but from ahead.
And it wasn’t finished yet. It was leading them.