The remaining men scrambled to obey, those still on the ground floor fighting desperately to reach the staircase. Two made it, racing up to join us. The third fell as a wolf leapt upon his back, driving him face-first into the stone steps with a crack that told me his neck had broken.
“What are those things?” gasped one of the survivors, his face slick with sweat and splattered blood.
“Not natural,” I said, already calculating our options. Four of us left. Six, maybe seven of them that I could see. Too many. “Back down the corridor. We need a defensible position.”
We retreated, the wolves following at a measured pace. They didn’t rush, didn’t need to. They knew we were trapped. Knew the only exit lay through them.
“In here,” I kicked open a door at random, revealing what looked like an old study or library. “Barricade the door!”
The men obeyed, dragging a heavy desk across the threshold as the wolves reached the landing. I heard them moving outside, claws clicking on stone, low growls vibrating through the wood of the door. Testing. Waiting.
“There must be another way out,” I said, scanning the room. A window, too small for a man but not for a boy, sat high in one wall. “You.” I pointed to the smallest hunter. “Think you can squeeze through that?”
He looked at the window, then back at me, terror making him honest. “Maybe. But what then? I’d be trapped outside, between the castle wall and the drop.”
“Better than being wolf food in here,” another hunter spat. “Go. Tell the king what’s happening. We need more men.”
A crash against the door cut off any further discussion. The barricade shuddered but held. For now.
“Go,” I ordered the small hunter. “Now.”
He nodded, fear giving way to desperate hope as he climbed the shelves lining the wall, reaching for the window. The glass was ancient, brittle, breaking easily when he struck it with the pommel of his dagger. He cleared the shards, then began squeezing his shoulders through the narrow opening.
Another crash against the door. Wood splintered. The desk slid back several inches.
“Hurry!” I urged, as the hunter pushed himself halfway through the window.
Then he screamed, high and terrified, his body jerking as something outside grabbed him. His legs kicked wildly, blood spraying across the wall and ceiling as he was torn in half, the upper portion of his body disappearing through the window while his legs and hips dropped to the floor inside.
“They’re outside too,” one of the remaining hunters whispered, his voice breaking. “We’re surrounded.”
I ignored him, my mind racing. There had to be a way out. Some passage, some secret the castle held that might offer escape. Isabeau had fled this place somehow. With Alain. Without being torn apart by these shadow-wolves. How?
The door shuddered again, a massive crack appearing down its center as claws gouged deep furrows in the ancient wood. We had moments at most.
“The fireplace,” I said, noticing how large it was, big enough for a man to stand in. “Check if there’s a hidden passage.”
The hunters scrambled to obey, feeling along the stones, looking for any mechanism that might reveal an escape route. I joined them, running my hands over every inch of the fireplace interior, finding nothing but cold ash and soot.
“Sir,” one of them said, his voice tight with fear, “there’s nothing here.”
The door exploded inward, desk and all, crushed beneath the weight of multiple wolf bodies hitting it simultaneously. Red eyes gleamed in the darkness beyond, shadows taking solid form as they padded into the room.
“The window,” I ordered, already moving toward it. “It’s our only chance.”
“But the other man—”
“Move or die here,” I cut him off, clambering up the shelves as the wolves advanced. The window was too small, I knew that objectively, but desperation made impossible things seempossible. I reached it just as the first wolf lunged for the hunters behind me.
Screams filled the room, wet tearing sounds accompanying them as I forced my shoulders through the narrow opening, glass shards cutting into my flesh. I didn’t care. Pain was nothing compared to death. Blood made my passage slicker, and I squeezed through by sheer force of will, falling awkwardly onto a narrow ledge outside.
The outer wall offered handholds. Decorative stonework and vines that had grown through cracks over centuries. I didn’t hesitate, didn’t look back at the sounds of slaughter behind me. I climbed down, fingers bleeding, muscles screaming, until I dropped the last ten feet to land hard on the ground below.
Guards rushed toward me as I staggered away from the castle wall, swords drawn, the king and crown prince behind them with expressions mixing shock and alarm.
“What happened?” the king demanded. “Where are the others?”
“Dead,” I said flatly, straightening despite the pain lancing through my body. “The castle is overrun with shadow-wolves. Corrupted creatures. They killed everyone inside.”
