The night hadn't settled.
It pressed.
Even past the northern wall, where the castle's silhouette loomed like a dark crown against the sky, the air carried the weight of everything unraveling at once. Gunfire cracked in controlled bursts, sharp and deliberate, echoing across the uneven terrain. Each shot cut through the distant thunder of fireworks still blooming overhead, their fading colors painting brief flashes across the ground before vanishing again into black.
Austin moved with his team through the sparse cover, boots sinking slightly into the cold earth as they advanced.
Then—
Crack.
A round snapped past his position, biting into the stone just inches from where his head had been.
He dropped instantly.
Low. Controlled. No wasted motion.
His body hit the ground behind a natural ridge, one knee planted, rifle already angled toward the stables ahead. Another volley followed, chewing through the dirt and rock, forcing the men around him to flatten themselves into cover.
The old stables stood ahead, broken but stubborn, their structure just intact enough to offer protection. From within, Cassius' remaining men fired in staggered rhythm, using the elevated angles and broken beams to create a defensive pocket.
Not effective.
But annoying.
Austin exhaled through his nose, steadying his breathing as he tracked the incoming fire.
They're not trying to win.
The realization settled quickly.
They're stalling.
His jaw tightened.
Cassius Vane wasn't the type to hold a losing position without reason. Not after what had already happened tonight. Not after how clean this operation was supposed to be on their side.
Which meant—
There's more.
Something else was in motion. Something they hadn't seen yet.
More explosives, maybe. A fallback route. A secondary objective.
Whatever it was, Cassius was buying time for it.
Austin leaned slightly, peering over his cover just enough to catch the muzzle flash from the stables.
Then he ducked again as another round snapped past.
We can flank this.
The options ran through his mind fast, practiced.
Left side, sparse trees, shallow incline. Limited cover but workable.
Right side, denser brush, slower movement but better concealment.
Or…
Wait.
Let them burn through their ammunition.
Either way, the outcome didn't change.
This was already over.
But time—
Time mattered.
The fireworks above were beginning to thin, the intervals between bursts stretching longer. The noise cover they had relied on was fading.
And when it stopped…
This whole operation would stop being invisible.
Austin's grip tightened on his rifle.
No.
Dragging this out wasn't an option.
Not tonight.
Not here.
Not with him on this island.
A flicker of something colder passed through his thoughts.
Adam can't know I'm here.
That line held weight.
Not hesitation.
Not doubt.
Just fact.
This mission had to stay in the dark; Clean, Fast and Controlled.
He reached up and tapped the earpiece tucked securely against his ear.
The comms lit up instantly, a low hum of presence from every operative still active across the field.
His voice came through calm. Measured. Absolute.
"Main target remains Cassius Vane. Dead or alive. He doesn't leave this island."
A pause.
Then, sharper.
"You've all seen the face. No mistakes."
Acknowledgments came back in short bursts. Quiet. Efficient.
No questions.
No hesitation.
"Flank the stables. Collapse the position."
He shifted his weight, already moving as he spoke.
"Two right... You." he pointed to one of the men, "With me on the left."
The team split without a word.
This was the difference.
Not noise.
Not panic.
Just execution.
Austin moved low along the left flank, boots barely making a sound as he cut through the uneven ground. The man behind him mirrored every step, weapon raised, eyes scanning, breathing controlled.
Their gear moved with them, seamless.
The combat suit hugged tight against muscle and bone, reinforced plates layered across vital areas without restricting movement. Every motion felt precise, engineered. The weight of the rifle was familiar in Austin's hands, balanced, responsive. When he squeezed the trigger, the recoil didn't jolt, it answered, pushing back just enough to remind him it was alive.
They reached their angle.
Austin signaled.
Two fingers.
Now.
He leaned out.
Fired.
Two controlled shots.
The first man dropped instantly, the round catching him mid-transition between covers. The second barely had time to react before Austin adjusted and fired again.
Clean.
No wasted movement.
Beside him, the other operative moved into position, setting up his rifle with practiced efficiency. Larger caliber. Longer barrel. Built for reach.
He dropped prone, anchoring himself into the ground as he lined up the scope.
"I've got a shot," he muttered, voice low but steady.
Austin didn't look at him.
"Take it."
Two shots rang out in quick succession.
Precise.
Lethal.
Then—
Silence.
Not complete.
But wrong.
The sniper didn't fire again.
Austin's eyes flicked sideways.
"Why'd you stop?"
No response.
The man had gone still.
Too still.
He detached the scope, holding it in his hand, scanning instead of shooting. The faint green glow of night vision reflected against his face, painting it in unnatural light.
Then he froze.
His entire body locked.
Slowly…
He began to back up.
Not tactical.
Not controlled.
Instinctive.
Fear.
Austin shifted slightly, covering his six, irritation creeping in.
"What is it?"
The man didn't answer at first.
His breathing had changed.
Shallow.
Unsteady.
When he finally spoke, the words came out broken.
"Th-there's—"
He swallowed hard, eyes still locked forward.
"A… werewolf…"
The word barely formed.
Austin frowned, turning—
The man suddenly moved.
He slammed into Austin's shoulder, not as an attack but as a shove, desperate, clumsy, trying to push him away.
"Move!"
The force knocked Austin off balance, his footing slipping just enough to shift him out of position.
Out of line.
Out of—
Something passed.
Not a shape.
Not fully.
A blur.
Black.
Fast.
Too fast.
The world narrowed.
For a single second, everything slowed.
Austin's senses sharpened violently as instinct took over, his body reacting before his mind caught up. He twisted, bringing his rifle up—
But it was already too late.
The man who had shoved him—
Gone.
No.
Not gone.
Taken.
A violent impact hit the ground just a few feet away, something heavy crashing into the dirt with bone-shattering force. The sound came first.
A crack.
Sharp.
Final.
Then—
Movement.
Feral.
Savage.
The darkness shifted, and for the first time, Austin saw it.
It was massive.
Black fur that swallowed what little light remained, its form blending into the night itself. Muscles rippled beneath its hide as it moved, not with hesitation, not with thought, but with pure, unfiltered instinct.
Jaws.
They clamped down.
The sound? God—
The sound was wet.
Violent.
Unmistakable.
A muffled scream tore from his squadmate, cut short almost instantly as the creature's bite crushed through him. Bone gave way like brittle wood. Flesh followed.
Austin didn't move.
He couldn't.
His body locked in place, every muscle frozen as his mind struggled to process what he was seeing.
The world tunneled.
Sound dulled.
All that remained was the violence in front of him.
The beast tore into the body with brutal efficiency, head jerking, claws pinning, teeth ripping. Blood darkened the ground, soaking into the soil as the man's movements went from frantic… to weak… to still.
The rifle slipped from the man's grasp, hitting the dirt with a dull thud.
His arm twitched once.
Then nothing.
Austin stood there.
A few feet away.
Alive.
Only because he had been pushed.
The realization hit him like a delayed shock.
That was meant to be me.
His grip tightened around his weapon, but his hands didn't rise.
Didn't aim.
Didn't fire.
Because for the first time in a long time—
Austin Greene hesitated.
And in front of him, the creature fed.