The forest was quieter here.
Not the gentle quiet of snowfall or resting animals.
This was different.
Still.
Watching.
Nyx stood at the edge of the territory.
Not crossing.
Not yet.
But close enough to feel it.
The boundary thrummed faintly beneath his feet, old magic woven into the land by generations of wolves. Protection. Warning. A line drawn between safe and not.
Nyx tilted his head slightly.
"…how careful," he murmured.
His voice barely disturbed the air.
Then—
He breathed in.
Slow.
Deep.
And stilled.
There.
He felt them.
Clearer now.
Stronger than before.
Not distant echoes anymore.
Not faint, scattered traces.
No—
This was undeniable.
Three.
Three distinct pulses.
Bright.
Warm.
Alive.
Nyx's lips curved slowly.
"…children of a god," he whispered.
The words tasted interesting.
New.
Dangerous.
His eyes darkened slightly as he focused.
Each presence was different.
One—
Sharp. Bright. Steady.
Another—
Balanced. Flickering between calm and spark.
The last—
Soft. Deep. Quiet… but heavy with something hidden.
Nyx's smile widened.
"…how fascinating."
His fingers twitched at his side.
A small, curious motion.
Then—
He stepped closer.
Just one step.
The air shifted instantly.
The boundary reacted.
A faint resistance pressing back against him.
Warning.
Rejecting.
Nyx didn't push through.
Not yet.
Instead—
He reached out.
Not toward the barrier.
But toward something else.
A young tree stood nearby.
Thin.
New.
Its bark smooth, branches still growing, leaves trembling lightly in the cold air.
Alive.
Simple.
Unprotected.
Nyx placed his hand against it.
Gently.
Almost tender.
For a moment—
Nothing happened.
Then—
The air stilled.
Completely.
The leaves stopped moving.
The branches froze.
The faint sound of wind through the forest… died.
And slowly—
The tree began to change.
Its color dulled first.
Green fading into something pale.
Something wrong.
Then the leaves curled inward.
Drying.
Crumbling.
The bark darkened.
Cracks forming along its surface.
Spreading.
Deepening.
The life—
Was leaving it.
Not torn.
Not ripped.
But…
Drained.
Nyx watched quietly.
Head tilted slightly.
Observing.
Feeling.
Power moved through him.
Cold.
Hungry.
Endless.
The tree didn't fight.
It couldn't.
Its roots held it in place as everything that made it alive was pulled away.
Drawn into something that did not give back.
Within seconds—
It was over.
The tree stood still.
Dead.
Nyx lifted his hand.
Slowly.
Examining it for a brief moment.
As if testing something.
Confirming.
"…so it works here too," he murmured.
Satisfied.
Behind him—
The forest felt it.
Animals shifted.
Pulled away.
Instinct screaming to avoid him.
To run.
To hide.
Nyx looked back toward the territory.
Toward the den.
Toward the three small, glowing presences he could now feel so clearly.
"…I wonder," he said softly, voice almost curious.
"…how bright they burn up close."
His smile sharpened.
Just slightly.
"Soon."
He turned away from the boundary.
Not retreating.
Not fleeing.
Just…
Waiting.
Because now—
He knew exactly where to look.
And what he wanted.