chapter 1

The sun was a malevolent eye, a blood orange disc hanging low in the toxic haze. It cast long, skeletal shadows of rusted-out husks and gnarled, petrified trees across the cracked earth. Kaelen, a shadow herself in a duster coat the color of dried mud, moved through the wasteland with a predator's grace. Her boots, worn and scuffed, made no sound on the grit. The rifle slung across her back, a pre-Collapse relic lovingly maintained, felt like a third limb.

She was tracking a ghost, a man named Gideon, a name that tasted like ash and betrayal on her tongue. The warlord’s fortress, a sprawling nightmare of scavenged metal and concrete known as The Citadel, was rumored to be just beyond the Borderlands. Getting there meant crossing the Shatterwood, a forest of dead trees so dense it was said to swallow light and sound whole. Gideon had a personal vendetta against anyone who trespassed, a paranoia that stemmed from his own bloody rise to power. Kaelen knew this better than anyone. She'd been there, a foolish second-in-command to a man who’d promised her a new world, only to plunge her blade into the old one.

The wind picked up, a hot, dry gust carrying the stink of diesel and desperation. Kaelen pulled the collar of her coat tighter, her gaze sweeping the horizon. That's when she saw it—a lone figure silhouetted against the setting sun. She dropped into a crouch behind a skeletal wreck of a car, her hand instinctively moving to the grip of her sidearm. The figure was a man, tall and lean, walking with a confident, measured stride. He wasn't a scavenger; his clothes were too clean, his posture too arrogant. He was one of Gideon's men.

As he drew closer, the details became clearer. A scar bisected his right eyebrow, and his jaw was set with a hard, unyielding tension. He moved like a hunter. Kaelen recognized him then. Silas, Gideon’s new second-in-command. The man who had taken her place. A cold, brilliant tactician, rumored to be even more ruthless than Gideon himself. A predator following a scent, and Kaelen had no doubt that scent was hers.

She was too exposed. He would see her. Her mind raced, a whirlwind of combat instincts she’d honed over years of survival. She could try to ambush him, but he was good, damn good. A direct confrontation would be a coin toss, and Kaelen was done gambling. Her only option was to disappear. She was a ghost, after all.

Before she could melt back into the shadows, a sound pierced the air—a sharp, metallic click. The sound of a sniper rifle being primed. Kaelen’s blood ran cold. It wasn't Silas. The shot came from the opposite direction, from the ridge behind her. A trap. A cold, brilliant trap. She had been so focused on the prey, she hadn't seen the hunter.

Silas stopped, his head snapping up to the ridge. A smile, as cold and sharp as a shard of glass, touched his lips. He knew. He had known she was there all along. The ambush wasn't for him. It was for her.

"Looks like you're cornered, Kaelen," he called out, his voice carrying clearly on the wind. "Or perhaps…you’re exactly where I want you to be."

Kaelen cursed under her breath. She was trapped between the ridge and Silas, with no cover in sight. The rifle on her back felt heavy, her sidearm a useless weight. She met his gaze, her eyes narrowed to slits. The smirk on his face widened as he watched the realization dawn on her. The ambush wasn't a trap to kill her. It was an elaborate maneuver, a calculated chess move. He wasn’t hunting her to kill her. He was hunting her to capture her.

The first shot from the ridge whistled past her ear, a warning. Kaelen braced herself, her heart thrumming a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She was a mercenary, a survivor, a wolf of the border. But even a wolf could be caught in a trap. And this trap, she realized, was set by another wolf entirely.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***