Chapter 401: Three Heads Fall

The moment the Trihydra’s head burst from the cave, everything happened at once.

Orion’s hand flew to the hilt of his sword.

Steel sang as it cleared the sheath, the sound sharp and clean against the frozen air. He didn’t hesitate. Instinct took over.

He stepped forward and drove the blade straight through the first head.

The impact was brutal.

Scaled flesh split with a wet crack as the sword punched clean through bone and brain. Blood sprayed outward, steaming faintly in the cold air. The head convulsed once, jaws snapping uselessly, then went slack.

Before the body even finished collapsing, Orion twisted his wrist, ripped the blade free, and pivoted.

In one smooth, merciless motion, he swung again.

And again.

Two heads separated from the neck in rapid succession, hitting the snow with heavy, sickening thuds as they rolled away, jaws still twitching reflexively.

Sophia barely had time to yank herself backward, shielding Tarin instinctively as the severed heads tumbled past her boots.

The Trihydra’s body shuddered violently, spasming in death throes before slumping heavily against the cave entrance, effectively clogging it like a grotesque barricade.

Silence crashed down for half a heartbeat.

Sophia stared at the fallen heads, chest heaving, heart hammering wildly in her ears.

Then reality snapped back into motion.

"There’s another one!" she blurted out, panic rising in her voice. "Orion, there’s another one in there!"

Orion didn’t even glance back at the cave.

"I know," he said tightly.

As if summoned by his words, a furious hiss erupted from deeper inside the cave — louder, angrier, frustrated. The sound vibrated through the blocked entrance as the second Trihydra slammed against the dead body of its fallen kin, unable to force its way through the narrow opening.

Snow trembled faintly under the impact.

Orion adjusted his grip on the sword, muscles tense and ready.

But the body wedged in the entrance held firm.

For now.

His attention snapped back to Sophia.

He crossed the distance between them in three long strides and pulled her into his arms, crushing her against his chest with a fierce, grounding hug.

She stiffened in surprise for a fraction of a second before melting into him.

"Are you okay?" he asked urgently, his voice rough against her hair. "Are you hurt?"

Sophia shook her head against his shoulder. She felt so relieved to be seeing him. "No, no I’m not, but let’s forget about me. Tarin needs more help than me."

She pulled back slightly so he could see the boy cradled against her chest, limp and pale beneath her bloodstained cloak.

"He was bitten," she added, fear tightening her voice. "He needs help, Orion, now."

Orion’s jaw clenched.

Before he could respond, hurried footsteps crunched through the snow behind them.

The others finally reached them.

Genevieve was the first to break through the trees, breath coming fast, her medical box slung tightly across her shoulder. Ethan followed close behind, face pale with worry. Uther, Miles, Micah, and the rest of the small group fanned out instinctively, scanning the forest for threats.

Genevieve’s gaze snapped immediately to Sophia — then to the blood on her hands, then to the child in her arms.

Her box slipped from her fingers and hit the snow with a dull thud.

"Sophia," Genevieve breathed as she rushed forward. "Are you okay?"

Sophia shook her head quickly. "I’m not," she admitted, voice breaking slightly. "But please — Tarin first. He was bitten by a Trihydra."

Genevieve’s eyes widened sharply.

"Bitten?" she repeated, already dropping to her knees. "Put him down. Now."

Sophia carefully lowered Tarin onto the snow-covered ground, hands trembling as she eased him onto his side. His breathing was shallow and uneven, eyelids fluttering weakly. The dark veins had spread aggressively up his arm and across his collarbone now, branching like poisonous ink beneath his skin.

Genevieve swore under her breath when she saw it.

"That’s bad," she muttered grimly. "That’s really bad."

She leaned closer, checking his pulse, lifting his eyelids briefly.

His eyes rolled back slightly, unfocused.

Sophia’s breath hitched sharply.

A strange, broken sound escaped her throat — half sob, half gasp — as fear finally tore through her composure.

"Please," she whispered, gripping Genevieve’s sleeve. "Please save him. Don’t let him die."

Genevieve swallowed, meeting Sophia’s desperate gaze.

"I can slow the venom," she said honestly. "I can stabilize him for now. But I can’t fully cure a Trihydra bite out here. He has to get back to the pack compounds as fast as possible."

The only person who could actually fully cure someone from a Trihydra bite was Lysander. Genevieve could slow it down, but she couldn’t fully heal it, and she didn’t have the herbs needed to even heal him.

Sophia nodded frantically, wiping tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. "Okay. Okay. Just—just do whatever you can."

Genevieve didn’t waste another second.

She flipped open her medical box and began pulling out bundles of dried herbs, small glass vials, and a folded cloth. Her hands moved quickly and confidently despite the urgency.

Sophia watched anxiously as Genevieve untied the makeshift cloth Sophia had used to slow the bleeding earlier.

The wound beneath was angry and dark, veins radiating outward unnaturally.

Genevieve grimaced. "Ethan," she snapped. "Hold him down. This is going to hurt."

Ethan immediately dropped to his knees beside Tarin and gently but firmly restrained the boy’s shoulders and arms.

"I’ve got you," Ethan murmured to Tarin, though his own voice trembled slightly.

Genevieve crushed several herbs together between her palms, mixing them rapidly with a liquid from one of the vials until it formed a thick, pungent paste.

Then, without hesitation, she pressed the mixture directly onto the bite wound.

Tarin screamed.

The sound ripped through the forest — raw, sharp, agonized.

His body arched violently as convulsions tore through him, fingers clawing uselessly at the snow.

"Hold him!" Genevieve ordered sharply.

Ethan tightened his grip, bracing himself as Tarin thrashed in pain.

Orion swore under his breath and glanced around sharply, senses flaring.

"That scream will alert the other beasts in the forest," he growled. "Uther, cover his mouth. Now."

Uther immediately stepped forward, gently but firmly placing his hand over Tarin’s mouth to muffle the sound.

Tarin’s cries turned into muffled, desperate sobs beneath the pressure.

Sophia’s heart shattered at the sight.

She dropped to her knees beside them, helpless, tears streaming freely down her face as she watched the boy convulse in agony.

"I’m sorry," she whispered brokenly. "I’m so sorry..."

The venom burned its way out slowly.

Seconds stretched into agonizing minutes.

Tarin’s convulsions gradually weakened, his movements slowing, his breathing becoming ragged and shallow instead of frantic. Sweat drenched his forehead, his small body trembling uncontrollably.

Finally — after what felt like an eternity — his body went still.

The muffled sounds stopped.

Genevieve immediately pulled her hands away, quickly tearing a strip from her own cloak and wrapping it tightly around the wound to secure the herbs in place.

"Okay," she said breathlessly. "He’s stabilized. The venom isn’t spreading anymore."

Sophia sagged in relief, nearly collapsing forward.

"But we don’t have much time," Genevieve added firmly. "He needs proper treatment back home. Now."

Miles stepped forward immediately. "I’m fast," he said without hesitation. "I can carry him."

Genevieve nodded. "Thank you."

She turned back to Sophia briefly, pulling a small bundle of herbs from her box. She gently cleaned the blood from Sophia’s hands and wrists, applying a soothing salve before wrapping bandages carefully around the raw skin.

"There," she said softly. "You’re going to be sore, but you’ll heal. I’m glad you’re okay."

Sophia managed a weak nod. "Thank you."

Miles shifted swiftly into his wolf form, snow swirling around him as his large frame solidified. Genevieve carefully lifted Tarin and secured him across Miles’s back, making sure he was balanced and protected.

She placed her medical box securely against Miles as well.

"Don’t slow down," she instructed. "Straight back to the pack."

Miles gave a short confirming huff.

Orion turned toward Sophia, opening his mouth to speak — to ask a thousand questions, because he had a lot of questions to ask her.

But Sophia suddenly stiffened.

Her eyes widened slightly.

Orion frowned. "What is it?"

Sophia’s gaze sharpened with sudden urgency. "We need to find Ronan. Now."