SWNOVELS Chapter 72
With a roar that shook the very air around them, Ragnar launched himself at Fenris. The two werewolves collided in a blur of teeth and claws, their battle a savage dance of primal fury.
Lyra barely had time to shout a warning before the rest of the corrupted pack attacked. She threw up a hasty magical barrier, buying precious seconds for their team to ready their weapons.
The clash was brutal and chaotic. The shadow-infused werewolves were faster, stronger than any natural lycanthrope. But Lyra’s team had the advantage of diversity – elven archery, human swordplay, and magical prowess working in concert to hold the line.
As Lyra blasted back a snarling attacker with a burst of light magic, she caught glimpses of Fenris’s battle with Ragnar. The two were evenly matched, each landing punishing blows that would have felled a lesser opponent. But where Ragnar fought with blind rage and dark power, Fenris moved with a fluid grace, his attacks precise and calculated.
The tide began to turn as Lyra’s light magic proved particularly effective against the shadow-corrupted werewolves. Each burst of radiant energy seemed to burn away the darkness infecting them, leaving them weakened and vulnerable.
Seeing his pack faltering, Ragnar disengaged from Fenris with a snarl. “Enough! You want to pass through our territory so badly? Fine. But you’ll have to go through me first, pup. You and me, one on one. For the right to lead the Blackmoon Pack.”
Fenris paused, chest heaving from exertion. “I don’t want to lead the pack, Ragnar. I just want to save our people – all people – from the darkness you’ve so foolishly embraced.”
Ragnar’s laugh was a harsh, broken sound. “Always the idealist. But you can’t save anyone if you’re dead. So what’ll it be, Fenris? Face me like a true wolf, or hide behind your human friends?”
Lyra stepped forward, ready to intervene, but Fenris held up a hand to stop her. “No, Lyra. This is my fight. My past to face.”
She wanted to argue, to insist that they face this threat together as they had so many others. But she saw the determination in Fenris’s eyes and understood. This was about more than just passing through Blackmoon territory. It was about confronting the shadows of his past and finally laying them to rest.
“Be careful,” Lyra whispered, squeezing his hand one last time before stepping back to join the rest of their team.
Fenris nodded, then turned to face Ragnar. The two werewolves circled each other, muscles coiled and ready to spring. The corrupted pack and Lyra’s allies formed a ring around them, all other conflicts momentarily forgotten in the face of this primal confrontation.
Ragnar struck first, lunging forward with inhuman speed. But Fenris was ready, sidestepping the attack and landing a solid blow to Ragnar’s ribs. The fight that followed was a blur of motion, each combatant pushing themselves to their absolute limits.
Lyra watched with her heart in her throat, resisting the urge to intervene every time Ragnar’s shadow-enhanced claws came too close to Fenris’s throat. But as the battle wore on, she began to see a pattern emerging. Ragnar’s attacks, while devastatingly powerful, were growing wilder and more erratic. The shadow essence seemed to be consuming him from within, burning away his control and tactical mind.
Fenris, on the other hand, remained focused and disciplined. He weathered Ragnar’s assault, conserving his energy and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. That moment came when Ragnar overextended himself, putting too much force behind a wild swing.
In a move almost too fast to follow, Fenris ducked under Ragnar’s arm and surged upward, his claws finding purchase in the alpha’s throat. There was a terrible moment of stillness, then Ragnar stumbled backward, dark blood pouring from the wound.
The corrupted alpha fell to his knees, his form flickering between human and wolf as the shadow essence began to leach out of him. He looked up at Fenris, and for the first time, Lyra saw fear in those crimson eyes.
“Finish it,” Ragnar growled, his voice a wet rasp. “Claim your victory, pup.”
But Fenris shook his head, already beginning to shift back to his human form. “No. I won’t kill you, Ragnar. But I won’t let you hurt anyone else, either.”
With a nod to Lyra, Fenris stepped back. Understanding his intent, Lyra stepped forward and placed her hand on Ragnar’s forehead. She closed her eyes, channeling her light magic into the fallen alpha’s body.
Ragnar howled in agony as the purifying energy coursed through him, burning away the last vestiges of shadow corruption. When it was done, he slumped to the ground, unconscious but free from the darkness that had consumed him.
A stunned silence fell over the assembled werewolves. Then, one by one, they began to kneel before Fenris. Even without claiming Ragnar’s life, he had proven himself the superior alpha.
Fenris looked uncomfortable with their show of submission. “Stand up,” he commanded, his voice firm but not unkind. “I’m not here to lead you. But I am asking you to fight with us. To help us save not just the Blackmoon Pack, but all of Aether.”
There was a moment of hesitation, then the werewolves began to nod in agreement. One of them, a female with streaks of gray in her fur, stepped forward. “We will follow you, Fenris. Not as our alpha, but as a leader worth believing in.”
Lyra felt a swell of pride as she watched Fenris address his former packmates. He had
faced his past, confronted the darkest aspects of his heritage, and emerged stronger for it. As the werewolves began to mingle with the rest of their strike team, sharing information and preparing for the journey ahead, she saw the beginnings of the unity they so desperately needed.
Fenris made his way back to Lyra’s side, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. She took his hand, lending him her strength. “You did it,” she said softly. “You faced your demons and came out on top.”
He managed a tired smile. “We did it. I couldn’t have gotten through this without you, Lyra. Without the strength you’ve given me, the perspective you’ve shown me.”