"He took his wife into the freezing forest at 2 AM to abandon her. But when the beast attacked, he realized the monster wasn't in the woods... IT WAS HER."

A heavy, suffocating silence followed, broken only by the sharp, metallic echo of a bolt-action rifle being cycled in the distance.

Alex squeezed his eyes shut, braced for his own death. But the weight on his chest suddenly vanished. The giant gray wolf, Fenris, unleashed a bone-chilling roar of rage and spun away, its fur standing on end as it sprinted into the thick brush.

In the snow just inches from Alex, Victoria gasped. Blood, bright and unnaturally vibrant in the moonlight, pooled out from beneath her heavy cashmere coat, staining the pure white drift beneath her.

"Victoria!" Alex screamed, horror overriding his terror.

The two heavily armed men in dark tactical gear who had just emerged from the treeline immediately dropped into a defensive formation. "Target spotted at two o'clock! Snipers in the treeline!" one shouted into his radio comms, raising an assault rifle into the darkness.

Before they could acquire a target, a second shot rang out. The bullet tore through the left knee of the guard on the right, dropping him into the snow with a sickening crack. The second guard grabbed Victoria under the arms, hauling her bleeding body behind the thick trunk of the ancient oak tree.

"Alex! Get your useless ass behind this tree if you want to breathe past tonight!" the surviving guard barked, spraying suppressed suppressive fire into the dark canopy of pines.

Alex didn't think. Crawling on his knees through the frozen slush, he scrambled behind the massive oak, collapsing next to his bleeding wife.

Victoria’s face was pale, her lips turning a faint shade of violet. Her hand clutched her shoulder, where blood leaked through her gloved fingers. Yet, despite the agonizing wound, her eyes were wide with a bizarre, manic terror Alex had never seen before. It wasn't the fear of dying—it was the fear of who had pulled the trigger.

"It's... it's him," she choked out, her breath ragged. "He found us..."

"Who?" Alex stammered, frantically trying to press his hands against her wound to stop the bleeding. "The police? Elena?"

"My brother," she whispered, her teeth chattering violently. "Julian."

Alex felt his blood run cold. Julian?

Julian Vance was supposed to be dead. Four years ago, the Vance family estate was destroyed in a catastrophic fire that made national headlines. Julian's body was never recovered, but the authorities had declared him dead after finding teeth and burned bone fragments in the ashes. His death was the exact reason Victoria had inherited the entire multi-million-dollar Vance estate and its vast wilderness holdings.

"Julian is dead, Victoria! You showed me the death certificate!" Alex shouted over the deafening crackle of gunfire.

"I lied!" she spat, blood flecking her lips. "I set that fire! I tried to burn him alive because he found out what our family really does out here! He didn't die, Alex... he's been living in these woods for four years, hunting every living thing my family sent after him!"

From the shadowy depths of the dark forest, a voice boomed out. It was deep, rasping, and warped by years of living in the brutal freeze.

"Victoria!" the voice echoed through the trees, mocking and terrifyingly close. "Did you bring me another sacrifice? Is this pathetic little man your new pet?"

The remaining guard stood up to aim, but a shadow dropped from the high branches above like a falling stone. A massive figure clad in thick furs and tactical armor slammed into the guard, driving a hunting knife straight through the man's ballistic helmet. The guard went limp instantly.

Alex scrambled backward, letting out a pitiful scream.

Standing over the dead guard was a towering man whose face was scarred beyond recognition—half burned, half weathered by years of arctic survival. In his right hand, he held a heavy rifle; in his left, a bloody blade.