Silas Nightwood's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Silas Nightwood tracked the beast for three days, and on the fourth the village where he hunted turned on him. He crouched at the tree line before dawn, studying fresh claw marks on a broken fence. A shepherd's dog lay dead nearby. The beast had killed close to homes now, and Silas meant to end it before it reached the woman he loved. But footsteps crunched behind him, many at once, and he rose to find a crowd blocking his way back. They carried lanterns and pitchforks. An old man at the front pointed at Silas's ears, dark and pointed against his hair. "Wolf blood," the man said. "You bring the killings. We've seen no beast but you." Silas raised his empty hands. "I hunt the thing that did this. Look at the tracks. They're twice the size of mine." He knelt and pressed his own hand into the mud beside a print. The paw dwarfed his palm. A few villagers leaned closer, uncertain. The old man spat. "Tricks. Leave, or we burn you out." A younger man swung a torch toward the dry grass at Silas's feet. Flame caught and spread fast toward the fence and the homes beyond. Silas made his choice in a breath. He could argue and let the fire prove them right, or he could save them and lose his hunt here. He tore off his coat and beat the flames down, choking on smoke. He dragged a water trough over and dumped it across the grass. When the last ember died, the crowd stood silent. He had spared their village while they cursed his name. The old man lowered his pitchfork. "You could have run." "I don't run from what I started," Silas said. "But I can't stay. You've cost me the trail." He turned his back on their lanterns and walked into the trees. Behind him a woman called a thank-you he did not answer. The beast had a full night's lead now, and it was moving in one direction. Toward home. Silas ran. The manor rose at the end of its long, tree-lined drive, pale stone under a graying sky. Every window was dark but one. He crossed the gravel and threw open the door. Luna stood at the top of the stairs in a loose blue gown, her white ears pinned back, her blue eyes wide. His mate. She had heard him coming the way she always did. "You're covered in soot," she said, hurrying down. Then she saw his face and stopped. "What happened?" "The village drove me off. The beast is close." He took her hands. "Closer than I let myself believe. It's hunting this way now." Luna's grip tightened. Outside, past the dark trees, a long howl rose and broke off. Neither of them breathed. The thing Silas had chased for weeks had stopped running. It had come to them.