Liam Wolfe's Arc

Chapter 10 of 10

The hunters ran, but they had seen enough. They knew now that Liam could shift on iron ground and still hold his mind. Luna knelt by the willow's roots, her hand flat on the cold earth. "They'll come back," she said. "With something worse. Iron didn't stop you. So they'll change the trap." Liam pulled the first iron stake from the ground. The metal burned his palm. He had won the wolf, but the ring still choked the tree. He worked fast, tearing each stake free and hurling it into the grass. The willow's leaves shivered as the metal left. A low growl rolled from the dark. Liam turned. A black panther stepped out of the trees, its coat catching faint sparks of light along the spine. Luna rose. She did not reach for a weapon. "He's mine," Luna said. "My familiar. He came when the roots woke back up." The panther pressed its head to her hip. In its jaws it carried a long sheath, worn silver, marked with runes that glowed under the moon. Luna took the sheath from the panther's mouth. She held it out to Liam. "This is why the hunters will lose next time," she said. "A blade forged against iron. My coven kept it for the one bound to me. That's you." Liam pulled the sword from the sheath. The steel was pale and cold, but it did not burn him. "Iron weakens me," he said. "How does this help?" "It cuts iron like rope," Luna said. "Their stakes, their snares, their blades. When they ring the tree again, you won't tear the metal out by hand. You'll cut it out in seconds." Her voice stayed flat, sure. Liam gripped the last iron stake still buried at the root. He set the blade against it and pulled. The stake split clean, no strain. The panther watched, tail flicking. The willow's roots pushed warmth back into the soil under Luna's palm. "It works," Luna said. "The tree feels the earth again." She pressed both hands to the ground and closed her eyes. Green threaded back through the willow's bark. The tree was saved. But the panther's ears flattened. It stared into the trees and hissed. Luna stood, her hand on its neck. "He smells them," she said. "The hunters didn't go far." Liam sheathed the sword and faced the dark. He held the wolf, the woman he loved, and now a blade that cut their only weapon against him. He had traded one problem for a harder one. The hunters knew iron failed. They knew a witch-forged sword could unmake their traps. Now they would come for the sword itself, and for the two who carried it.