🔥Betrayal burns brighter than fire. And tonight, everything will burn.
Zaira begins to see fragments of the future she so feared: an army of wolves, a silent betrayal, and a love that could become her downfall.
While Sanathiel tries to protect her, Ibrahim sharpens his sword in the shadows.
Can Zaira stand firm in the crossfire between what she loves and what she must destroy?
77. An Intertwined Fate:
The evening mist crept silently over the camp, suffocating the air with a heavy mix of dampness and tension. Every corner seemed to hold secrets, every shadow whispered of betrayals waiting to be uncovered.
There was Zaira, walking with firm steps toward her meeting with Sanathiel, her thoughts drifting between what she had seen and the one now before her—the cause of so much impending sorrow. If this was the result of her choices, she could hear it clearly, feel it in the glow of that medallion capable of awakening an entire army of lycanthropes.
A terrible future was beginning to take shape, just as the witch had warned: "This Nevri will be your ruin and the start of all misery."She looked up at him, but could barely meet his eyes without trembling or feeling the weight on her chest.
"I need time to think," Zaira whispered, letting go of his hand.
Sanathiel watched her walk away, putting distance between them as if he had done something wrong. A fading spark. But what troubled him most was how much Zaira had changed since everything had unfolded.
She turned to Salomon, who was waiting near the camp's entrance, where the fire still crackled fiercely.
"We can't afford any more mistakes, ebony wolf."
Elsewhere, Ibrahim stood in silence, plotting his next move without raising suspicion. The only one resisting him was Steven, Falco's most trusted disciple—resilient, yet seemingly willing to cooperate.
"All it takes is for Zaira to break this fragile bond with the wolves, and it'll all collapse on its own," Ibrahim declared coldly.
Steven gave him a hard-to-read look. Though his hands fidgeted, his voice was steady when he replied:
"If this goes wrong, there'll be no turning back. Falco won't tolerate another mistake."
Ibrahim let out a dry laugh, crossing his arms.
"Falco won't live to see the end of this. His time is up."
"Leave Falco out of this, Ibrahim," Steven said sharply, unsheathing his slider—a double-edged blade crafted for killing monsters.
From the shadows of the meeting hall, Daesa, Falco's younger sister, overheard the conversation with a pleased smile. She had long believed it was time to start something new—and this was her opportunity to drive a thorn into the heart of everything Zaira loved. She hated her.
That night, the stars reflected in the eyes of the guards posted around the camp. At the far edge of the perimeter, Zaira stepped toward the boundary, catching Salomon's attention. His figure, bathed in the pale moonlight, looked almost human. But he was anything but.
"You shouldn't be here alone," he said softly, approaching with care.
Zaira didn't answer right away. Her eyes were locked on the horizon, as if searching for answers in the distance.
"Salomon... do you think any of this makes sense?" she finally asked, her voice tinged with a melancholy that caught him off guard.
Salomon drew a breath, feeling the weight of her question. For a moment, he considered lying—but something in her gaze made him stop.
"I don't know, Zaira," he answered honestly. "But I do know that Sanathiel would do anything to protect us. Even if it means losing himself."
Zaira stared at him, surprised by the intensity of his words. Before she could respond, Salomon added:
"I'd do anything... for you." His voice cracked slightly, but his gaze remained steady.
Zaira looked away, unable to bear the weight of his confession. His words unsettled her, leaving behind a heaviness she didn't know how to carry.
Back at the camp, Ibrahim finally made his move. Taking advantage of the recent chaos, he gathered the hunters loyal to him and began spreading rumors about Zaira.
"She's been seen with those wolves. Some say Sanathiel protects her like one of their own. What do you think is going on between them?" he said with a venomous smile, his words aimed at Falco.
Falco couldn't ignore the seed planted within him—but he also couldn't trust a man who wanted to possess Zaira. So he sought answers, only to cross paths with Daesa in the middle of the night.
"Maybe you should worry less about Zaira and more about what's happening in your own circle," Daesa said, her tone dripping with meaning.
Falco frowned, but before he could respond, a scream tore through the camp. One of the tents had been set ablaze, and chaos erupted around them.
Sanathiel and Salomon arrived at the scene in seconds, every sense on high alert. Through the flames, silhouettes stumbled and fled, while distant howls echoed through the trees.
"This isn't just a random attack," Salomon murmured, watching Sanathiel.
Sanathiel's glowing eyes narrowed. He knew something deeper was unfolding, and his suspicions fell squarely on the silver-haired youth—Ibrahim.
Through the smoke and fire, Zaira emerged. Her face glowed orange from the flames. Though fear flickered in her gaze, her stance remained strong.
"We can't stay here. This place isn't safe anymore," she said with conviction.
Sanathiel looked at her for a moment before nodding. But as they began organizing the evacuation, Ibrahim moved through the chaos, unsheathing his blade—its edge gleaming with a sinister light.
"You're not going anywhere, Zaira," he said with a cruel grin, stepping into view.
Sanathiel noticed and stepped in immediately.
"If you want her, you'll have to go through me," he said, voice low and dangerous, raising his sword.
The clash between Sanathiel and Ibrahim marked the climax of the night, with the hunters caught in paralyzing silence, torn between loyalty and fear. But as the fire consumed what remained of the camp, Zaira knew the real battle had only just begun.