Night had settled over the forest, its chill seeping through the canopy and pooling among the roots and underbrush. The air was thick with the mingling scents of leaf, soil, and water, the faint aroma of the Pool of Purity weaving its way through the more familiar scents of his pack. Jack. The Scraeling. The human. The last member of his old pack. All resting in their chosen places.

  Goldeyes prowled the edges of their makeshift camp, his eyes glinting with purpose. His padded feet made no sound against the loamy earth, every movement precise and deliberate. He was the sentinel of the night, his vigilance a shield against whatever dangers the darkness dared to send.

  But tonight, his senses were restless.

  A stench clung to the air, sour and unnatural. It was faint, but to Goldeyes, it was as loud as a thunderclap. It reeked of decay, like rotting meat left to fester in stagnant water. And it was coming from the gray one.

  Cael.

  The goblin was neither prey nor enemy. He was part of the pack, or so Jack had deemed. But instincts were not so easily dismissed. They whispered to Goldeyes that something was wrong. His fur bristled whenever Cael drew near, his teeth itching to bare themselves in a snarl. His wolf’s mind wanted to chase, to drive away the corruption that seeped from the goblin’s very skin.

  But the pack’s leader had not given the command.

  Goldeyes had once trusted Cael. The goblin’s scent had been familiar, marked by the sharp tang of herbs and the muted grime of blood and steel. Useful, Jack had called him. Necessary. But now that scent was twisted, coiled around something foul and wrong. Goldeyes could not name it, but he felt its presence like a thorn lodged deep beneath his skin.

  And so, he watched.

  Goldeyes’ eyes followed Cael’s every move as the goblin skulked around the camp, his expression twitching with some emotion the wolf couldn’t fully understand. Not hunger, not fear. Something darker, simmering beneath the surface.

  The white wolf’s body tensed when Cael’s gaze flicked toward Jack, his eyes lingering far too long. Goldeyes could sense the hatred radiating from the goblin, the way his muscles coiled with suppressed malice. His ears twitched, catching the subtle rasp of metal as Cael fingered the dagger at his side.

  Sleep. Jack’s presence whispered through their bond, muted but steady. His scent was calm, unguarded. Vulnerable.

  Goldeyes huffed, his breath misting in the cool night air. His duty was to protect. To guard. And Cael’s movements made his instincts scream.

  He trailed the goblin from a distance, his steps silent as he moved through the shadows. The moonlight spilled in patches over the forest floor, broken by the rustling leaves and twisted branches. Goldeyes’ gaze never left Cael, his muscles coiled like springs ready to snap.

  What drove the goblin to pace and mutter to himself? To glare at Jack as if the very sight of him brought pain? Goldeyes didn’t care about the answers, only the danger they might present. And that smell—

  His snout wrinkled as the stench grew stronger, curling around his senses like a tightening noose. It was wrong, so very wrong. Goldeyes’ lip curled, his teeth flashing in a silent snarl. The corruption tainted everything Cael touched, his very presence a poison in the night.

  Hours slipped by, the moon drifting higher into the sky. Cael’s pacing slowed but never ceased, his eyes darting toward Jack’s sleeping form with increasing frequency. Goldeyes’ patience wore thin, his growl rumbling low in his throat. His instincts screamed at him to act. To tear into the goblin and rip out whatever darkness lay festering within him.

  But he held back. Jack had not given the command. Jack trusted this one. And Goldeyes had learned to trust Jack’s judgment.

  Until now.

  The air shifted, a subtle tension that pricked at Goldeyes’ senses like needles. Cael’s posture changed, his movements growing purposeful. The goblin crept toward Jack’s resting place, his steps careful, deliberate.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Goldeyes’ body stiffened, his hackles rising. His muscles tensed, prepared to spring, but still he held himself back. Jack’s orders echoed in his mind, the bond between them pulsing with authority and companionship.

  But this was different. This was betrayal.

  The dagger gleamed in Cael’s hand, the moonlight painting its edge silver. And Cael’s gaze held nothing but hatred.

  Goldeyes didn’t think. He acted.

  A howl tore from his throat, raw and furious, the sound erupting from deep within his chest. It shattered the quiet of the night, a warning and a battle cry all at once. His paws dug into the earth as he lunged forward, powerful muscles propelling him with lethal intent.

  ——————————————————————

  Cael’s hands trembled as he paced the clearing, his steps uneven, jagged. The moonlight spilled through the branches above, cold and silvery, painting the world in stark shades of black and white. His breath rasped in his throat, tight and shallow, as if the air itself was thick with poison.

  But it wasn’t the air. It was the dagger.

  The weapon Jack had forged from the poison meant to kill him. A tool meant to aid their survival. Yet the moment Cael had grasped its hilt, something had shifted. It had whispered to him, its voice a slithering coil in the back of his mind, persistent and vile. First it had promised him power, the strength to defeat any opponent, to propel himself to unimagined heights. But all too soon it’s whisperings had become more sinister.

  “Kill him,” it crooned, the words sweet and sickly, like honey laced with rot. “He deserves it. He made you nothing more than his tool. A brewer. A servant.”

  Cael’s teeth ground together as he clutched the dagger tighter, his knuckles pale beneath his grey skin. His thoughts twisted, distorted by the knife’s presence. Memories of pain and frustration resurfaced, every slight, every moment of helplessness reeking of betrayal.

  “He’s using you. Just like everyone else. Always demanding, always expecting.”

  “No,” Cael muttered, his voice hoarse. “It’s not like that. He’s… he’s trying to help.”

  The dagger’s laughter filled his skull, a chittering, grotesque mockery of amusement. “Help? Did he help when he nearly let you die? When he put you in harm’s way without a second thought? You were poisoned because of him.”

  His vision blurred, red seeping into the edges of his sight. The rational part of his mind struggled against the intrusive voice, clawing its way to the surface. “I chose to be here. I chose to fight. He helped me, he saved me.”

  “Lies. You cling to them because you’re weak. Pathetic. A goblin too cowardly to claim his own power.”

  A low growl escaped his throat, the sound more beast than man. His feet moved without his permission, drawing him closer to where Jack rested. Asleep. Vulnerable.

  “End him. Take your destiny into your own hands.”

  The knife’s influence was a storm inside his skull, tearing through reason and twisting his desires. It wasn’t just a voice. It was a hunger, gnawing and insidious. His grip tightened on the dagger until the sharp edges of the hilt cut into his palm, drawing blood. But the pain only seemed to fuel the madness.

  He tried to pull his hand away, to toss the cursed thing into the forest where it could no longer poison his thoughts. But his body wouldn’t listen. His own limbs felt foreign, heavy and clumsy, as if draped in chains of shadow.

  “Stop…” he pleaded, his voice a ragged whisper.

  The dagger ignored him. His feet kept moving.

  Jack lay there, his breathing slow and even, utterly unaware of the doom approaching him. Cael’s gaze locked onto him, and in that moment, the dagger’s control tightened, pulling him forward like a puppet on tangled strings, his face twisting as the hatred within the weapon was reflected in his expression.

  “Do it. Strike him down. Show him your strength.”

  His arm raised, the dagger’s edge glinting with cold, malevolent hunger. His muscles strained against his own will, his mind screaming at his body to stop. But the dagger’s influence pressed harder, relentless.

  “No! This… this isn’t me!” Cael’s mental cry went unheard. Though he had attempted to speak out loud , he couldn’t force the words past his lips.

  But even as he tried to speak, his hand continued its descent. His heart thundered in his chest, terror clawing at his insides. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t—

  Then, somehow, he found a flicker of strength. A moment of clarity. The knife’s grip faltered, just barely. His arm froze, the point of the blade inches above Jack’s chest. His breathing hitched, and his muscles trembled with the effort of holding back the plunge.

  “I… I won’t do it,” he thought.

  “Oh, but you will.”

  The force slammed into him like a physical blow. The dagger’s power surged, overpowering his will, dragging his arm downward with brutal, merciless intent.

  Just as the blade began to descend, a thunderous howl shattered the quiet. The sound was pure fury, a primal rage that tore through the stillness and sent shivers down Cael’s spine.

  Before he could process what was happening, something massive and white hurled into him from the darkness.

  Goldeyes.

  His moment of hesitation had given the beast the extra few seconds he needed to close the gap between them. The wolf’s body collided with Cael’s with the force of a charging beast, his teeth bared and eyes blazing with the wild ferocity of a creature defending his pack. The impact sent Cael crashing to the ground, the air torn from his lungs in a ragged gasp.