Chapter 365: The Test Proper

The forest closed around them the moment Team Six split apart.

Branches heavy with snow drooped overhead, blocking what little light filtered through the clouds above. The air was cold and thick, every breath visible, every sound strangely muted beneath the constant hush of falling snow. The snow here was more dense than what they were used to in pack compounds. One wrong move and they’ll go missing.

Each of them moved alone now, following different paths, alert and silent, carrying the weight of the task Ethan had given them.

Joren ran in wolf form, his paws barely making a sound as they struck the snow-dusted ground.

He kept low, body streamlined, weaving easily between tree trunks and thick roots. His ears were angled forward, every nerve tuned to the faint sound that had first caught his attention.

Water.

It was distant, but unmistakable.

A quiet rush, like something moving endlessly over stone.

He adjusted his direction slightly, following the sound as it grew clearer. He was cautious as he moved, senses alert in case there were other beasts nearby.

Like Sophia had suspected, there were rocks that he was certain the tidebreakers used as cover. Dark, uneven shapes scattered across white ground.

"This place is a tidebreaker nest,* his wolf, Gale told him.

"Sophia was right after all, then," Joren said in reply.

*She is smart,* Gale told him. *She noticed it even before the rest of us did. She is a good ruler.*

Joren beamed at that. "I told you she was. Alpha Orion wouldn’t pick wrongly."

*You mean the Moon Goddess,* Gale said dryly.

"She too," Joren said with a laugh.

Gale shook his head, then moved further toward the sound of water they had heard.

And while Joren was focused on his task, Sophia too was focused on her own.

She moved slowly, deliberately, every step calculated.

Her eyes scanned everything.

Not just the open ground—but the edges of it. The shapes that didn’t quite fit. The places where snow lay too smoothly, or where stone seemed too dark, too sharp against the white.

Black rocks were everywhere.

Far too many.

She remembered Orion’s words clearly, telling her how the tidebreaker blends in and lies in wait for the enemy.

Her grip tightened around her weapon as she moved past one large boulder, circling it rather than passing directly beside it. She watched the shadow it cast, noting how the snow gathered unevenly around its base.

Nothing moved.

But that didn’t mean anything.

The snow was thick, falling harder, blurring distance and dulling sound. Visibility was dropping, and that made everything worse.

Sophia slowed even further.

Her heart beat steady, controlled, but she could feel the tension creeping into her shoulders, settling deep into her muscles. Her suspicions had been correct. The place where her team was taking the test was a tidebreaker nest.

And that did nothing to lessen the nerves pooling around her stomach. She fingered the charm she wore. She had promised Orion not to get hurt, and she was going to keep that promise.

It would be difficult, especially with how thick the snow was. But she wasn’t going to give up. She had decided to take the test for a reason after all.

She shifted her path slightly, stepping onto firmer ground, eyes never stopping their constant sweep of her surroundings.

Every dark shape was a potential threat.

Every shadow could be a hiding place.

---

Miles moved with care, spear held loosely but ready, his breathing slow and controlled.

He didn’t like this.

The fact that he couldn’t tell whether the forest was empty... or simply waiting.

Then he heard it.

A soft rustling sound, somewhere to his left.

Miles froze instantly, holding his breath. He listened for the sound again, but he didn’t hear anything more. It was like nothing had ever happened before.

His eyes shifted slowly toward the trees, scanning for movement, for disturbed snow, for anything that might explain what he’d heard.

Still nothing.

His gaze drifted downward instead—and that’s when he noticed the rocks.

Black stone scattered between the trees.

Some half-buried in snow.

Some barely dusted.

All of them dark enough to stand out sharply against the white.

Sophia’s words echoed in his mind.

Their skin blends with rocks and snow.

His throat went dry.

He lowered his stance slightly, bending his knees, spear angled forward as he focused on scent instead of sight.

His wolf stirred within him, senses sharpening as he drew on it.

He swallowed, forcing himself to stay calm.

Panicking wouldn’t help. And if he could pass this test, then he could prove to his family that he was right after all and being a hunter was his calling.

He moved again, slower now, careful not to crunch the snow too loudly beneath his boots.

Every step felt like it echoed too much.

---

Uther was crouched behind a large rock, using it as cover as he scanned the open stretch of ground ahead.

Not even a Vireloop had crossed his path since they separated. No small creatures. No tracks. No signs of recent movement.

It didn’t make sense.

Places like this usually had something.

Anything.

He shifted slightly, peering around the edge of the rock, eyes narrowing.

Then he heard movement. It wasn’t close, but he picked it up.

A faint sound of disturbed snow, like something shifting its weight.

Uther held his breath as he tried to pinpoint where the sound had come from and what had caused it. But no matter how much he tried, he didn’t hear it again.

He waited just in case, but there was still nothing.

His pulse thudded in his ears as he slowly pushed himself upright, preparing to move from his hiding spot and continue scouting.

Then—

A sharp sound cut through the forest. It was their agreed signal. Someone whistled. Two short ones and one long one.

Uther’s head snapped up instantly.

Someone had seen the beast.

He turned in the direction the sound had come from, already moving, body low and fast, weaving between trees as he headed toward the signal.

But then, another whistle sounded from a different direction. The same signal—two short and one long.

Uther’s eyes widened.

Two signals.

Two encounters.

At the same time.

His heart slammed against his ribs as he changed direction sharply, moving toward the one closer to him rather than the one farther from him.