The attack came just before dawn.
Kael had drifted into a half-sleep by the tree, head nodding against his knees. The last thing he remembered was Lyren whispering something reassuring, a hand on his shoulder. Then came the screams.
He snapped awake to chaos. Shapes lunged through the fog — dark, towering, with too many limbs and eyes that glimmered like coals. Nell's voice cut through the madness, a strangled shout for help that ended in a wet crunch. A spray of blood splattered the moss at Kael's feet.
His body moved before thought. Sword out, breath tearing in his chest. He pivoted to face a Dreadborn twice his height, mouth splitting open in a grotesque grin. It lunged. Kael dodged under a swiping claw and drove his blade up — too shallow. It hissed, backhanded him. The world spun. His ribs lit up with fire as he hit the ground hard enough to see stars.
Through the ringing in his ears, he heard Lyren yelling. Heard Ayla's pained moans, cut off by snarling. Daric was somewhere close, bellowing orders that no one could obey because the monsters were already among them, tearing bodies like paper.
Kael rolled onto his side, gasping, trying to force air back into lungs that wouldn't listen. A shadow fell over him. He looked up to see another Dreadborn looming — smaller, spindly, but its claws dripped red. It clicked its jaws together in anticipation.
Not yet, Kael thought desperately, fingers scrabbling for his dropped sword. I'm not ready. Please—
The thing struck.
Something inside Kael tore open. It was not pain — it was release, like the snap of chains. A white-hot surge flooded through his veins, roaring louder than any heartbeat. His vision went black for half a second, then flared with impossible clarity.
The creature's claw slammed toward him — and Kael caught it. Fingers that suddenly felt like iron wrapped around the slick wrist. He squeezed. Bones shattered under his grip. The Dreadborn shrieked, jerking back, but Kael rose with it, lifting the monster off the ground like it weighed nothing.
He didn't think. Didn't question. He ripped its arm free in a spray of steaming black ichor. The creature's mouth gaped, a silent scream, before Kael slammed it into the ground hard enough to break stone. It twitched once, then lay still.
Breath tearing from his throat, Kael looked down at himself. Veins glowed faintly beneath his skin, pulsing with sick golden light. His hands dripped with dark blood that hissed where it hit the dirt. Something snarled nearby — and Kael snarled back, an animal sound that wasn't quite human.
More Dreadborn closed in. Too many. Lyren was fighting desperately to reach Ayla, blade hacking wildly. Kael didn't hesitate. He moved, blurring forward in a way that made the world stretch and lurch. Claws slashed at him, but his body twisted impossibly, slipping between them. He reached the nearest monster and drove his fist straight through its chest. Heat exploded around his arm as he ripped free a mass of tangled organs.
Another beast leaped onto his back. Kael roared, grabbing its head and wrenching so hard the neck snapped like dry twigs. He threw the corpse into a cluster of three more, knocking them sprawling.
Lyren stared at him, eyes wide with horror and awe. "Kael…?"
Kael wanted to answer. Wanted to say it's still me. But his mouth opened and only a low, rattling growl came out.
A Dreadborn lunged for Lyren's blind side. Kael reacted instantly, crossing the space in a flash. His claws — for they were claws now, dark and curving from his fingertips — sliced through the monster's neck. Its head toppled, bouncing off Lyren's leg. Lyren flinched back, mouth open, but didn't run.
All around them, the forest floor was littered with ruined corpses. Some still twitched, black ichor pooling thick. Kael stood at the center of it, chest heaving, steam curling off his skin. His veins still glowed. His breath came out in ragged snarls. Somewhere deep, he could feel something else — a vast dark hunger — stirring, tasting the carnage.
And for a single terrifying moment…he liked it.
He staggered back, shaking his head violently. Claws scraped against his temples as if trying to claw out the thought itself. A low whine tore from his throat. Lyren stepped closer, hands half-raised.
"Kael, it's okay. I'm here. We're still here."
Kael met his eyes. Saw the terror there, and the faith fighting against it. His heart twisted painfully. The glow in his veins began to fade, claws retracting. When he looked down, his hands were just hands again — smeared with gore, trembling, human.
He dropped to his knees beside Ayla. She was alive, barely. Kael touched her cheek with gentle fingers that still shook. She flinched — whether from pain or fear of him, he couldn't tell.
Captain Daric approached then, sword lowered. His face was a mask of hard calculation. He took in the slaughter, then Kael's changed form, and said quietly, "We'll speak on what you are later. Right now…you've kept us alive. That's what matters."
Kael couldn't answer. Could only nod, numb and hollow, terrified of what he might say if he opened his mouth.
Around them, the ruined grove was silent at last. No birds, no insects, only the sound of dripping blood. The sun finally broke the horizon, casting long rays through the mist, turning the carnage to grotesque gold.
Kael knelt in the middle of it, heart aching with a mix of triumph and dread. He had become something new, something monstrous. And though he told himself it was only to protect the others, a small, horrible voice deep inside whispered that he had enjoyed it.
That was the most frightening truth of all.
They didn't even wait for a full day to pass. By dusk, after the blood was cleaned and Ayla's wounds were bound, Captain Daric gave the order.
"Secure him," he said flatly. His eyes didn't waver, though something like regret flickered in them for just a breath. "Kael, don't fight this. You know we have no choice."
Lyren stepped between them. "He saved us! If it weren't for Kael—"
"He also became something that ripped monsters apart with his bare hands," Daric snapped. "What happens when that turns on us?"
Kael didn't argue. He didn't trust his own voice — not after hearing that inhuman growl pour from his throat. He just held out his wrists. Two soldiers approached, avoiding eye contact as they clamped heavy manacles around them. The cold iron bit deep, and some part of Kael's new, monstrous instincts recoiled from it with almost physical pain.
Lyren followed them the whole way back to the makeshift camp, eyes wide with helpless anger. He kept saying it wasn't right, that they couldn't treat Kael like a beast. But no one listened. Even Nell wouldn't look at Kael. She hovered by Ayla's side, whispering comforts that Ayla barely seemed to hear. Her eyes were locked on Kael every chance she got — eyes full of haunted confusion. Maybe gratitude. Maybe terror. Maybe both.
They pushed Kael into an old stone storehouse on the edge of the village ruins they were using for shelter. The building smelled of rot and old grain. Two guards took posts outside. Inside, they left Kael chained to an iron ring sunk into the wall. The chain was short enough he couldn't stand up straight.
When the door slammed shut, darkness swallowed him.
For hours, he sat there, head against the damp wall, trying to steady his breathing. His body still felt wrong — humming with leftover energy, skin crawling with that same golden sickness. His mind was worse. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw it again: claws slicing flesh, bones shattering in his grip, the hot rush of satisfaction.
Was that really me? Or is something else wearing my skin now?
The door creaked open just once that night. Lyren slipped inside, ducking past the guards with a glare that promised death if they tried to stop him. He dropped to a knee in front of Kael, hands hovering uncertainly before he finally gripped Kael's shoulders.
"They can't hold you like this forever," Lyren said, voice thick. "Once we get back to headquarters, we'll explain. They'll see you're still you."
Kael tried to laugh. It came out cracked and ugly. "You saw what I did. I don't even know if I'm still me."
Lyren's fingers dug in harder. "Don't say that. You saved us. Whatever this is — we'll figure it out. Together."
Kael closed his eyes. For a heartbeat, he let himself believe it. That maybe he was still the same boy who'd run these forests with Lyren as kids, dreaming of glory. That maybe this power didn't have to be a curse.
But then he smelled blood again. Heard the crunch of bone. Felt that awful rush.
When Lyren finally pulled back, promising to bring water and food, Kael slumped against the wall, chain rattling. He waited in the dark, alone, listening to the distant crackle of campfires outside. Soldiers laughed out there. Life went on. And Kael sat in chains, unsure if he was a hero, a monster, or something far worse.
Somewhere deep inside, the hunger stirred again. Watching. Waiting.