Michael reacted with a sudden and spectacular shift that left a flurry of shredded cloth strewn across the floor.

By the time Evelyn controlled her initial surge of panic, he was gone; his magnificent grey wolf making short work of the distance between him and the edge of the village. With no time for her usual care, Evelyn shifted before her dress had fully fallen from her waist, several seams tearing in protest.

Her wolf, smaller than his and lighter of fur, paused a moment get her bearings, then darted in the direction of the creek, following the heady aftermath of Michael's scent. As she ran through the village, she mentally counted those left behind.

One sick, two lame, one pregnant. she flew past the pens housing the last of their livestock. The two sentries assigned to protect their last line of defence. Her paws carried her effortlessly past the kitchens. The four youngest trainees. The burnt out remains of the old hospital appeared, marking the edge of the village.

Thomas won't fight, Sephrenia reminded her.

No, the pack doctor would be needed to tend the injured later. If she also discounted those too far from the village to help, that meant twenty-three wolves had answered the call to rescue the six children.

More than enough, Evelyn reassured her, we shouldn't be needed.

But there was no indication over the link of an easy victory. In fact, if anything, the pack seemed to be struggling.

We're needed, her wolf disagreed. Besides, it's our fault they're out there.

As the forest closed in around them, Evelyn's run turned into a sprint. Her smaller stature lent her a speed most other wolves couldn't match, and she flew through the trees, overtaking several others still racing to join the fight.

With no thought of keeping to the winding game trails, Evelyn plunged deeper into the forest, her course fur providing ample protection against thick thorns and heavy patches of nettles alike. The sounds of fighting grew louder.

A sudden movement to the left caught her eye. A lone wolf harassed by several crows. They swooped and pecked, and tore at its fur with their sharp claws. A flicker amongst the shadowed trees revealed their witch, openly laughing at the wolf's misfortune.

The familiar presence of Master Kirrin appeared close to their heels, then veered off towards the hapless warrior, a distance cracking of bones suggesting he'd switched forms to fight on foot. She considered changing course to assist.

They can handle themselves, Sephrenia snapped, pushing her onwards.

"Evie!" The cry of protest from the Weapon's Master was lost to the wind as she plunged forward, guilt driving her towards the sound of running water.

To her right, three wolves fought side by side in human form. Despite using a potent mix of magic and melee to hold them off, the four witches they faced were rapidly losing ground. As she passed, one flung a handful of powder towards the warriors. The largest warrior fell to the ground, spluttering and coughing. A few stray flakes blew into Evelyn’s eyes, stinging with a ferocity that blurred her vision and filled her eyes with tears.

Forced to slow her pace while their vision cleared, Evelyn focused on the link, desperate for guidance. Alive with urgent shouts for help and warnings of further sightings of the invaders, it was difficult to separate the multiple attacks.

Over the chaos, she could feel the steady, powerful presence of their Alpha directing the defenders. His voice carried with it a steadying wave of calm that tempered, but couldn't quite supress, the atmosphere of panic.

Who has the children? she fretted, resisting throwing her own voice into the mix for fear of adding to the confusion.

Over the link, voices continued to cry out, disorganised, urgent and almost incomprehensible as they overlapped each other in their eagerness to communicate:

“I've got Abel and Martha by the crossing, the witches are blocking the...”

“I've got two on the run, we're at...”
 
“Head it off before the break...”

“We need help over here, they're stirring up the...”

“Hold tight we're on the way!”  A flash of grey fur dashed across her path and she narrowly missed running straight into it – the Beta, fury flowing from every syllable. Who he was responding to was anyone's guess.

“I've found Sasha! We need...”

“Bloody birds, they're...”

“The shadows! Watch for the –" The last was cut off abruptly in a flurry of foul language.

Evelyn winced, her head pounding. How any of them were managing to coordinate their attacks, or even find each other to assist was beyond her.

Evelyn ran on, only halting when her paws finally splashed through the shallow waters of the creek. Though no fighting took place here, her sharp ears could make out two, four... no! Five separate battles raging in different locations around her. The children must have remembered their lessons and scattered.

She made a brief, but futile effort to seek them out through the link, but it was rendered effectively useless by the flood of voices. She blocked it, directing her full attention to her surroundings.

Sephrenia, help me out here. Where do we need to go?

They splashed through the water, working together to seek out traces of the children's scents on the bank beyond. Too young to have wolves, their scents were fainter, murkier and harder to detect amongst the natural smells of the forest.

You're right, her wolf muttered. They scattered.

So, which scent do we follow?

Further hampered by the constantly moving water - an excellent, but inconvenient camouflage - it took Sephrenia a moment to pin them down.

That way, she directed, their eyes falling on a recently made trail heading into deep undergrowth. Bent twigs and flattened ferns told a tale of panicked flight. The faintest of scents trickled along it; the only one not heading towards the sound of one of the many fights nearby. It was overlayed by the sickly scent of a witch in pursuit. At least one of the children had no protection.

Go, Evelyn ordered, relinquishing control.

The further along the trail they ran, the more distant the sounds of the other wolves became. They were entering an older, wilder part of the forest where ancient oaks had sprouted and lived so long they'd grown gnarled and hollow with age, the heartwood eaten away by fungi and hungry insects.

The branches of the oaks, some as large and as long as the smaller surrounding trees, created huge canopies that discouraged the undergrowth from growing too thickly. They left behind pocket clearings around their vast trunks and thick, almost impenetrable vegetation in between. Twisting through the increasingly narrow gaps, Evelyn began to feel as if she were being herded against her own volition; even the link to her pack becoming fainter as they ventured further from its reach.

How much further could they have run?

Far enough, Sephrenia muttered. If they didn't...

Don't even think it! Evelyn denied. Their scent's getting stronger. We just have to...

Wait... Sephrenia wrenched her attention to a gap in the trees. There!

The undergrowth parted, revealing the silhouette of a hooded figure. A knife in one hand, their attention was focused on a wide, oak tree steeped in the child's scent. Terrified sobs echoed from within.

Without thinking, Evelyn leapt forward, only registering the second attacker after she'd already flown by them. In her inexperience a snarl of anger escaped her, alerting the figure to her attack. It spun round just as she was about to make contact and disappeared from sight.

Her wolf flew through a form no more than mist. Spinning mid-flight, Evelyn’s paws landed in the opposite direction. Without hesitation she made a second leap, this time towards the witch she'd missed going in. He too side-stepped her attack, vanishing into nothingness and leaving her snapping at empty air.

How are they doing that?

They're using the shadows! Sephrenia cried.

The shadows? Evelyn froze, eying the areas of shade warily. The clearing fell still. Nothing moved. Nothing attacked. She knew they were there; she could smell them. A cloying sweet scent – similar to the oils they made from flower petals and honey - left out too long under a hot sun and out of place amongst the damp, earthy hues of the forest.

Careful, Sephrenia warned needlessly. Just because you can't see them, doesn't mean they're not there.

She backed slowly towards the oak, careful to keep her paws firmly in the sunlight. A thin hollow had formed in its trunk, just large enough for a single human to hide in. Edging to the side, she risked a glance into the darkness.

Her face tear-streaked, grazes on her hands and knees, a brown-eyed little girl peeked out at her wolf with wide, terrified eyes. For a fleeting moment, she looked just like Pip, and Evelyn's heart twisted. Without thinking, she mentally prepared to shift.

The branches of the nearby oaks began to creak ominously.

You have no weapons, Sephrenia snapped, resisting the change.

Sephrenia? Stop that! Her desire to comfort the child drove her to try again.

We have teeth and claws, her wolf snarled, holding her back.

But... indecision tore at her.

No, Sephrenia insisted. Look up.

Evelyn raised her muzzle, her eyes scanning the trees. Jackdaws, five of them that she could detect, hovered among the branches.

Familiars, she snarled. Vessels the witches could use to carry their magic far beyond their usual range. Sephrenia was right. Shifting would not be wise.

Call for help. You can comfort the girl when it's over... and we're all still breathing.

Evelyn conceded, shuffling backwards, her eyes trained on the otherwise empty clearing. Once her tail brushed against the bark of the tree, she kicked out her back leg towards the child.

Stay there, Evelyn begged, hoping the child understood. If she panicked and took flight, Evelyn wouldn't be able to protect her. To her relief, the girl took heed and pressed herself deeper into the hollow, her frantic cries becoming muffled sobs.

The hum of the pack-link remained muffled, as though she had travelled to the very edge of its range. Whether it was the witches magic, or her own adrenaline pumping in her ears, she didn't know.

“Michael?” she called out, not knowing if he could hear her. "I'm with Tess, they have us cornered in the hollows, I need –”

A sudden gust of wind, tore the breath from her lungs, and she was forced to cut the link to brace herself. Leaves whipped up from the forest floor, flying towards her in a blind frenzy, creating a veil that disrupted her view beyond. She felt herself pushed backwards so fiercely her paws scrapped backwards along the dirt floor, her rump pressing against the hollow’s rough sides.

Had she been more exposed the wind may have been strong enough to topple her. But the child had chosen her hiding place well, and the tangle of foliage that rose up either side of the tree, sheltered and steadied them both. The wind died down as suddenly as it had begun and Evelyn bared her teeth at the empty air. A defiant: Do your worst, I'm not going anywhere.

One of the cloaked figures suddenly reappeared at Evelyn's side, her only warning the subtle swish of fast-moving material. They swiped at her side with a thin, needle-like knife. Evelyn ducked low at the last second, narrowly avoiding the touch of silver across her spine.

At the same instant, something flew past her shoulder from her blind spot; a sharp, burning sensation confirming the missile had been more successful finding its target. She winced, and the pair moved in, apparently confident in their ability to finish the job with minimal magic.

Hatred rose up inside her, and she dove into the fight, cursing them with every move.

A snap here. Vile, evil...

A snarl there. Abhorrent creatures...

It didn't take long to realise they were trying to draw her away from the hollow she was trying to protect, and it only increased her ire. Cowardly, murderous...

Evelyn darted back and forth, dividing her attacks between them, targeting whichever came closest, frustrated by their ability to appear and disappear at will. Stand still so I can rip your throats out!

Finally, one of them turned too late and Evelyn felt her teeth connect with the flesh and bone of an exposed arm. She bit deep, aware she couldn't afford to hold on long while their companion was around, the taste of iron rich on her tongue.

The witch screamed – a high pitched squeal of pain Evelyn hoped could be heard by the other wolves of her pack. They tore themselves away, and she made sure to scrape her teeth along the arm as the witch escaped her grip.

They retreated just beyond her reach. Trying to catch her breath without appearing too tired, Evelyn got a good look at them for the first time.

A woman clutched at her injured arm, long dark hair framing a face filled with a mix of pain and anger. The other, a man whose ripped velveteen clothes suggested she'd made more contact than she'd first thought, glared at her from under hooded, hate-filled eyes.

“When I kill you, I'm going to make it last as long as possible,” he snarled, his voice thick with a lilt foreign to the region.

Try it, Sephrenia snarled, ready to tear away her human's control.

He raised him arms towards the nearby birds, his lips moving silently. The Jackdaws began to caw excitedly, their feathers fluffing up as whatever power he was siphoning into them reached its peak. Before he could send them hurtling towards her however, the shadows of the trees began to move all of their own accord. As though time raced forward, they grew longer, stretching across the clearing and smothering the patches of sunlight.

To Evelyn’s horror, those on the far side also shifted, flowing the wrong way to meet with their counterparts, heading toward the sun they normally ran from and enclosing the clearing in a false night.

A quick glance at the shocked faces of the witches told her neither of them were responsible for the sudden turn of events. The woman lost more colour to her face than her wound could account for, clearly aware of the identity of the shadow’s master. Cradling her arm to her chest, she turned and fled towards one of the few remaining patches of sunlight, vanishing inexplicably from sight.

The man, full of conflict, hesitated, clearly wishing for his shot at taking her down. He had frozen on the brink of flinging his arm forward, his eyes tracking the growing shadows warily. Then, full of defiance, his eyes locked on to hers and she knew he was committed to the attack.

Go on, she encouraged recklessly, I dare you.

His arm swung, and the birds took flight.

he braced herself for the flurry of talons to descend, her eyes already locked onto her first target. Before they could finish their descent however, the birds faltered, flapping wildly in mid-air as though something had gone wrong with their internal compass. Confused, her eyes flew to the witch whose eager expression had twisted suddenly into dawning horror. A brief look of pain crossed his face, then his birds began exploding all around him – feathers, flesh and bone falling from the sky in a gruesome display of spontaneous combustion.

The witch let out a wail of anguish, then turned and fled towards the furthest point of the clearing where the last slivers of light still reached the carpet of ferns. He cast one last look of vicious hatred in her direction before he too vanished from her sight.

Evelyn stood at the centre of a carpet of black and white feathers, her shocked gaze darting back and forth across the trees. What in Goddess name was that? Why would they retreat? Despite her bravado, they had to have known she couldn't hold them off alone forever.

Then she smelt it. A scent far stronger than those before. Sweet yes, but rich with sharp spices she could not name. Masculine, powerful, and far more dangerous than any witch she'd faced before. It flowed from the false shadows like water. No, not like water... like a wild fire, catching in her throat and burning her lungs with every breath.

Sephrenia? Her wolf, usually so vocal, had hunkered down, fighting against a strong instinct to attack the unseen threat in front of them.

Evelyn squared her shoulders, following her wolf's lead and settling into a defensive crouch. Where is he?She didn't have to wait long for an answer.

The witch stepped out from between the trees on the far side of the clearing, out of reach, but close enough for Evelyn to admire the way his dark clothes blended into the shadows – if he hadn't chosen to move, even her sharp eyes would have struggled to detect him.

He scrutinised her like a predator sizing up its prey, but made no move to attack. Dark waves of hair accentuated two piercing eyes of the deepest green that seemed to bore into her very soul. Evelyn flinched. She knew who he was even before his bird - twice the size of all other corvids in the area - settled into the branches of a tree nearby. Only one witch carried this level of power.

The Raven himself.

We can't fight him, Sephrenia hissed. He's going to kill us.

Leader of the witch’s coven for the last decade, Raven had gained an infamous reputation amongst the Cyan pack. A direct descendent of the witch who had cast the fateful curse. A monster in comparison to his ancestor, his power far surpassing those that had come before him. Like Cain, like Michael, he was a leader born and moulded by war.

His intense gaze burned through her bravado, and left her exposed and vulnerable. Still, she gifted him a defiant snarl, her muscles bunched in anticipation of his attack. Then let him kill us, Evelyn snarled. We'll take him with us if we can.

She waited for him to make his move, calculating the distance between them and wondering bleakly if her speed might be enough to counteract whatever magic he threw at her. But still he only watched, a hint of malicious amusement dancing across his face.

He's toying with us. Sephrenia's hackles stood stiff on her shoulders, trembling with anticipation. We could run...

Evelyn bared her teeth. Not without leaving the child.

He spoke no word, but tilted his head, his gaze drifting past her to settle on the hollow behind. A smile of satisfaction formed at the corners of his mouth, confirming Evelyn’s suspicion. She snarled; a vicious gut-curdling sound that travelled up from deep within, full of anger and hatred. You can't have her.

His eyes snapped back to her, the smile vanishing, his expression oddly lacking in the anger she'd expected to see returned to her. Instead, he held her eyes with his own with a cold, calculating stare, raising one hand slowly in her direction.

She fought against a powerful desire to flinch, exposing more of her teeth in defiance.

Fire of swirling orange and red formed in the palm of his hand. As she watched in horror, it split into three, writhing and pulsating in his grasp, restrained only by his immense control.

Evelyn fought not to close her eyes, unafraid, but unsure if she could watch death bear down on her with such ferocity. What are you waiting for?

A growl tore across the clearing, but not from her. Alpha Cain, still strong despite his age and driven by a fury that only enhanced his power, flew out of the undergrowth to launch himself at Raven, jaws open wide to take a chunk from his most hated enemy.

Raven turned, quicker than Evelyn thought possible, throwing one fiery ball towards the Alpha, and the other two in the direction of their intended target. Evelyn's muscles bunched, poised to attempt a futile leap out of the way, when a massive body collided with hers, knocking her out of the way just as the nearby trees exploded, splinters of wood flying in all directions.

It rolled, all fur and fangs, then stood protectively over her body, its massive chest towering above her head. Dazed from the blow, Evelyn tried to rise, but the wolf wouldn't let her, a soft snarl keeping her pinned to the floor. "Stay there, Evie."

"Michael?" she murmured, but the wolf's full attention was now on the fight raging in front of them. Twisting under his bulk, her eyes searched the hollowed oak, heart pounding frantically. She couldn't see Tess, but the tree appeared untouched by the attack. She sent a silent prayer to the Luna, then turned back just in time to watch the Alpha narrowly miss a powerful bite that would have torn the witch's arm off. Instead, Raven dodged to the side, using the Alpha's own momentum to send him sprawling.

With a snarl of anger, Michael joined the fight. Raven's mouth twisted with a cruel smile as he registered the new challenger, and made a jump of his own, barely avoiding the snapping jaws.

His answering laugh stoked a fire in Cain, and the wolf lunged once again. Grizzled grey, the Alpha loomed larger than all his counterparts, matched only by his grandson who approached on swift paws from the opposite side. Locked in a deadly dance, the three parried back and forth; blasts of magic countering teeth and claws.

Evelyn couldn't tear her eyes from the dark figure at the centre of the skirmish, hatred warring with fascination at how easily he seemed to hold both wolves at bay.

While Cain engaged the wolf directly, Michael dashed in and out of the fray with short, sharp bursts of energy. He wasn't seeking a kill, his role was to keep their foe off guard and unfocused, creating the opening his grandfather needed to tear at the witch’s throat.

For a moment, it seemed they might succeed.

The younger wolf managed to slip behind his target, his teeth snapping at the back of Raven's legs. The effort needed to dodge the attack unbalanced the witch, giving Cain a clear shot at his exposed throat.

But, instead of trying to regain his balance, Raven dropped to the floor, Cain's wolf rolling harmlessly over his back. As they rolled, the witches fist slammed into the side of the Alpha's chest, the powerful blow cracking ribs on impact. A second blow, so swift Evelyn barely saw it, connected with his side again, flinging Cain across the clearing and into his son. The two wolves rolled through the leaves, their paws scrambling for purchase on the soft ground.

Before they could recover and move in for a second shot, the witch raised his hand, reversing his spell and flooding the clearing with sunlight, temporarily blinding them all. He shot one last, piercing look in Evelyn's direction. Then vanished, leaving only a single black feather behind.