The Edge of Death
The dying light of dusk bled into the horizon as Isla stood at the gaping entrance of the cavern, her chest tightening. This was no simple test—no obstacle to climb, no sparring match to endure. The energy surrounding the cavern felt alive, dark, and unrelenting. Even without entering, Isla could feel it clawing at her resolve, daring her to step inside.
The pack’s eyes bore into her from their vantage points on the cliffs above. Whispers swirled among them, doubt hanging heavy in the air.
“She’s lasted longer than I thought,” someone murmured.
“She won’t survive this,” another said.
Draven’s deep voice cut through the murmurs, his commanding tone silencing them. “This is the final trial. Deep within this cavern lies the Alpha’s crest. It is a symbol of unity, loyalty, and leadership. Retrieve it, and you will have proven yourself. Fail…” His words trailed off, but the unspoken warning lingered.
Isla’s fingers curled into fists at her sides. She glanced toward Draven. His face was unreadable, his eyes dark, and his posture a blend of authority and quiet expectation. For a moment, she thought she saw something flicker in his gaze—concern? Hope? But it was gone before she could be sure.
“Begin,” Susan commanded.
The contenders surged forward. Isla hesitated, her breath catching as the cavern’s shadows seemed to reach for her. Lira’s voice, steady and firm, broke through her rising fear.
Move. Don’t think about what’s waiting inside. Just go.
Isla’s legs carried her forward before her mind could catch up. The moment she crossed the threshold, the world outside disappeared. The air was damp and suffocating, each breath heavy with the scent of earth and decay. The faint echoes of the other contenders’ footsteps quickly faded, leaving Isla alone with the cavern’s silence.
She pressed deeper into the darkness, her hands trailing along the jagged walls for balance. The narrow passage opened into a larger chamber, and a faint, eerie glow illuminated its center. A shimmering pool of water stretched before her, perfectly still and unnaturally clear. On the far side, the crest rested atop a black stone pedestal, its golden edges glinting faintly.
She took a step forward, but the moment her boot touched the edge of the pool, the air shifted. The still water began to ripple, distorting the reflection of the cavern walls. From the shadows, a low growl resonated, deep and guttural. Isla froze, her heart hammering in her chest.
A massive wolf stepped into the dim light, its eyes glowing with a malevolent red hue. Its fur was dark and matted, its teeth bared in a silent snarl. This wasn’t an ordinary wolf—it was something primal, something born of the cavern itself.
It’s a guardian,It won’t let you take the crest without a fight.
Isla’s hand instinctively reached for a rock on the ground, her fingers curling around its jagged edges. The wolf growled again, stepping closer. Her mind raced as she tried to calculate her chances. Fighting it head-on was suicide, but running wasn’t an option. She needed the crest—and her survival depended on it.
The wolf lunged, and Isla dove to the side, the rock slipping from her grasp as she hit the ground hard. Pain shot through her ribs, but she scrambled to her feet, her breath ragged. The wolf charged again, faster than she anticipated, its claws slicing through the air. She barely managed to dodge, the sound of its snarls deafening.
Her eyes darted around the chamber, searching for anything she could use. The pool’s surface rippled violently now, the energy in the room growing more chaotic with each passing second. The wolf was circling her, its movements deliberate, predatory.
Then she saw it—a ledge jutting out above the pool, its edges jagged but climbable. An idea formed, desperate but possible.
Lira, trust me on this,
I always do,
Isla ran toward the ledge, the wolf hot on her heels. Its snarls grew louder, closer, as she scrambled up the jagged rock face. Her hands bled from the sharp edges, but she didn’t stop. When she reached the top, she turned to face the wolf below. It growled, its glowing eyes locking onto hers.
She grabbed another loose rock and hurled it at the pool. The splash echoed through the chamber, and the wolf’s attention shifted, its ears flattening against its head. For a moment, it seemed to hesitate, its focus split between Isla and the disturbance in the water.
It was all she needed.
With a deep breath, Isla leapt from the ledge, her body colliding with the pedestal as she grabbed the crest. Pain exploded through her shoulder as she hit the ground, but she held the crest tightly against her chest. The wolf roared, its snarl filled with rage, but Isla didn’t stop. She ran, her legs screaming in protest as she sprinted toward the exit.
The cavern seemed to fight her, the walls narrowing, the shadows pressing closer. The wolf’s footsteps thundered behind her, each one louder than the last. She stumbled, her vision blurring, but the faint light of the entrance spurred her forward.
When she burst out of the cavern, the roar of the crowd hit her like a wave. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the ground, clutching the crest as her chest heaved. Blood dripped from her wounds, her body trembling with exhaustion.
Draven was there before anyone else, his dark eyes scanning her battered form. He knelt beside her, his expression a mix of relief and something deeper, something she couldn’t name.
“You did it,” he said, his voice low but steady. “You’ve completed the trial.”
Isla blinked up at him, her vision swimming. “Does that mean…?”
“You’re one of us now,” Draven said, his tone softening. “You’re officially part of the Crimson Fang pack.”
Her breath hitched at his words, the weight of them sinking in. She had survived. She had won. And for the first, she felt like she belonged. Then she heard Draven’s faint voice.
“Isla…Isla, wake up!”
She heaved a sigh before everything turned black.
