Zander squeezed his massive frame between thorny brambles, which snatched at him from each direction. He waddled forward like a duck to get through the brush. Wolves eat ducks, he mused. But this duck has more meat than they can chew, and an iron tooth.

“Damn arse pricklers!” Kenneth muttered from behind. “I swear by Meladon, if Princess Serapheena herself were waitin’ naked fer us in the middle o’ this mess, I wouldn’t be thankful.”

“Neither would I,” Alfread said. “Princess Sebreena is the beauty.” With a dramatic pause, he broke into one of his divinedamned rhymes,

When eyes befall,

The belle of the ball,

They become her thrall.

Sebreena, fairest of all!

Serapheena, nimble fighter,

talented reader, eloquent writer,

wittiest Ruby ear biter...

not a visual delighter.

Kenneth barked a laugh but winced when a thorn snagged his arse. “I dunno about ye, Al. But when I see a naked princess, I don’ get picky. I get prickly.”

“Put your prick away. You know you meant the beautiful one,” Alfread retorted. “Besides, tradition dictates that a man may sleep below his station, but never a woman. She’s as unreachable to us as the sun is to the moon.”

“Heh,” Kenneth snorted. “They’d be doin’ no sleepin’ on my dictate.”

“You know what I meant, jackanapes!”

None could inspire annoyance as well as Kenneth and Zander expected none deserved a little annoyance as much as Alfread when he went lecturing. Zander grinned briefly before a thorn scored a line of blood on his hand.

Kenneth snickered. “They’re prob’ly the on’y virgins left in Leveria, ‘cept fer you. Yer prude arse wouldn’ do nuthin’ if a princess spread her legs right in front o’ ye. No woman’s good ‘nough fer Alfread son o’ Evan. He’s waitin’ fer a Goddess to come down from Paradise and flash her teats.”

“Wouldn’ do nuthin’?” Alfread mocked. “That’s a double negative, you dolt. Do you know what that means?”

“That’s enough,” Zander said, voice cracking with restrained amusement. “Keep bickering and you’ll alert the wolves.”

The banter died as the three squires pressed forward, tracking the faint pawprints etched in the dirt. After what felt like angles of battling thorns and dense underbrush, they emerged into a small clearing. The sun was a dim smudge on the horizon, its last light choked by the thick canopy of trees surrounding the glade. In the center, a still pond mirrored the fading sky. Of wolves, Zander saw none.

He signaled for the others to join him. Kenneth crouched beside him and whispered, “Ye see somethin’?”

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Zander saw much—but none of it made sense. Something gnawed at his gut that had nothing to do with the bad stew he’d eaten earlier. He turned to the one person he could always count on to explain things for him. “What do you make of it, Alfread?”

Alfread’s eyes flickered, eager to offer his analysis. He pointed toward the opening in the canopy. “Wolves prefer to sleep beneath the moon. If you look closely, you can see where they bed down—packed leaves, there and there. This is their den.”

Zander nodded in agreement. That much he was certain of and undisturbed by.

Alfread continued, lowering his voice. “Tracks lead to the pond, and look—bones, scattered near the water. Deer, mostly. Wolves stalk their prey here, make an easy kill, feast like its Celegana's Harvest, then rest.”

Zander sighed. “They have everything they need—food, water, shelter. So why attack villages miles away, only to flee back here?”

Alfread shook his head. “It’s unnatural. Wolves avoid human settlements unless they’re desperate, and these wolves are far from starving. No hunters, no loggers, no rival predators. Something’s not right.”

“What could it be?” Kenneth asked, a twig snapping under his feet as he swayed.

“Perhaps a dotar has poisoned their minds?” Alfread offered, lacking conviction.

Zander shook his head, doubting one of those orange apes were involved in much more than stories meant to scare children from straying too far from their homes. He clenched his jaw. The peculiarity of these wolves was like an intricately tangled knot. Zander had always preferred cutting through tough knots rather than unraveling them.

“It doesn’t matter,” Zander said, inching closer to the clearing, leading with his sword.

A flicker of movement caught his eye.

“Watch out!” Zander shouted.

Wolves burst from the undergrowth, their assault coordinated and terrifyingly swift. They moved like shadows, their eyes gleaming with a cunning Zander had never seen in beasts.

Zander raised his shield just in time to block a wolf’s snapping maw. But Kenneth wasn’t as fortunate. He sidestepped one wolf, only to be dragged down by another, its jaws sinking into his leg. Alfread dodged the fourth wolf’s lunge, scrambling backward.

Time slowed for Zander. His vision narrowed, instincts sharpening. The world shrank to the wolves and their relentless attacks. His body moved on reflex, sword and shield a blur as he fended off the circling beasts. But they were fast—too fast, and too synchronized.

Zander cut down one wolf, cleaving through its head and shoulder, but pain lanced through him as another slashed his back. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to keep moving, ignoring the blood trickling down his spine. He slashed at another wolf, dropping it before it could reform the deadly circle around him.

The largest wolf he had ever seen—huge, black-furred, and with gleaming silver eyes—charged him. Zander blocked its lunge with his shield but staggered under the force of this bear-sized wolf. Zander baited it, feigning weakness, then unleashed a deathblow. The creature anticipated him, darting out of reach, its movements unnervingly prescient.

With a growl from the emperor wolf, another wolf diverted from Alfread, and flanked Zander, circling him like shadows, constantly forcing him to pivot and expose his back. They struck in quick succession. Zander blocked one with his shield, ready to strike, but the massive wolf sank its fangs into his leg.

The pain was distant, like it was happening to someone else. Bloodlust drowned out everything else. With a savage shield bash, he crushed the skull of the smaller wolf, its body crumpling like a broken toy.

No more minions. Now it was just him and the giant wolf.

The beast spat out a bloody chunk of leather and snarled, silver eyes shining with intelligence that didn't belong to a wolf. Zander’s locket slammed against his chest, and for a fleeting moment, he saw beyond the wolf—a shaded warrior sat on a throne of earth and tree rising high over sea and endless stretches of forest. A giant, three-headed beast roared at Zander as the warrior dreamt upon his throne.

Zander’s stomach lurched forward as his senses returned. He banged his sword against his shield, growling, “Come, demon. Die for your sins!”

The wolf bared its fangs in a twisted grin but didn’t charge. Instead, it bolted toward Kenneth, who was on his back, grappling with a smaller wolf that was gnashing its teeth at his face.

Zander ran, but he knew he wouldn’t reach Kenneth in time.

Kenneth threw off the smaller wolf just as the massive beast lunged.

Zander could only watch as the wolf fell upon his friend in a spray of red.