Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby novel Chapter 309

Chapter 309: Dread Eagle

The eyeless mole thrashed on the ground in agony. Eleanor refused to take any chances. She drove punch after punch into its skull, each strike crackling with lightning. Black blood seeped from the fresh gashes she carved into its hide. The creature released a warped, barely audible screech before collapsing, limp and lifeless.

Eleanor exhaled in relief, chest rising and falling sharply. The fight had been brief, yet it demanded every scrap of her focus... mind and body alike.

Master, we must leave at once. The mole made a sound before dying. I can sense movement in the distance, Nora warned.

Eleanor closed her eyes and sharpened her hearing. Faint disturbances tugged at the edge of her awareness. Without hesitation, she hastened towards the mountains. She couldn’t risk running; noise would only draw more predators. Her only choice was to walk quickly over solid ground, keeping her steps light and controlled.

After two hours, the towering trees began to thin. Smaller trunks and dense undergrowth replaced them, and the mountain range finally came into full view. The sight was breathtaking.

Before her, the mountains rose like a frozen surge of stone poised mid-crash beneath the pale sky. The highest peaks were colossal, their crowns buried under eternal ice that caught the afternoon sun and burned with a fierce, metallic gold... as though each cradled a shard of stolen light. Beneath those radiant summits stretched vast escarpments of grey and brown, weather-scored and sheer, plunging into deep, silent chasms. The sheer force of the landscape pressed against her senses, making her feel small and insignificant... like the brief flicker of a match against the immensity of the world’s bones.

Closer at hand, the scene softened. Around her stood a tangle of slender, whip-like trees, no more than twice her height, their leaves a muted yellow-green. Between them sprawled dense thickets of bristling bushes, dotted with tiny, sour-looking purple berries.

But it was the ground beneath her boots that captured her attention most completely. The soil was carpeted in a thick sward of black grass, each blade slender and resilient, drinking in the light like velvet. Scattered across this strange, shadowed field bloomed a multitude of tiny, star-shaped flowers. They formed a living kaleidoscope: deep sapphire bleeding into vivid amethyst, fiery crimson centres softening to a warm, dawn-coloured orange at the tips. They looked too artfully adorned, too perfectly painted, to be truly wild. A faint, sweet-spiced fragrance drifted above them... delicate, almost tender... strangely at odds with the severe mountains looming in the distance.

Eleanor glanced back at the sea of towering trees she had emerged from. The dense, familiar darkness of the forest now felt like a cloak she had willingly cast aside. Here, at the boundary, the air felt sharper, the light more unforgiving, the way forward utterly unknown. The sigh she released was not of fatigue, but of relinquishment... letting go of the shaded path for one laid bare.

Turning her gaze once more to the radiant, ice-crowned peaks and the curious, blooming ground spread before them, she stepped forward. The black grass whispered against her boots; the coloured stars flickered... whether in farewell or welcome, she could not say.

One thing, however, was certain. She needed to get as far from the trees as possible. When she fled after killing the eyeless mole, she had heard several howls rising roughly from the place where it fell. None seemed to trail her, but the risk remained. Her best chance at safety was to reach open terrain, where ambushes would be difficult.

Without hesitation, Eleanor pressed on towards the mountains, gripping a dry tree branch she had taken along the way. It was sturdy and light, one end broken into a natural, makeshift spear. She intended to sharpen its point against the rocks of the mountain.

Suddenly, a thunderous cry echoed from her left... deep and resonant, like an enraged elephant. The sound rattled her eardrums. She snapped her head skyward, searching for its source.

A colossal bird was descending straight toward her.

Her heart lurched violently. Cursing her wretched luck, she reacted at once. In the forest, the towering trees had felt oppressive, but they had at least shielded her from the sky. Out here in the open, she was naked to anything with wings. In her vigilance against ground-born threats, she had entirely forgotten that danger could fall from above.

She sprinted towards the nearest small tree and ducked under its scant shelter, bracing herself for a fight she doubted she could win. But the black-feathered giant swept over her, its shadow engulfing her for a breath before it shot past. About a hundred feet beyond her, the creature dropped to the ground... only to take off again in a violent surge of wings. Clutched in its talons dangled a horse-like beast, kicking helplessly.

By the time the sun had set and the cave grew dim, her spear was finished. She smoothed the handle and honed the tip to a sharp point. Then she retreated to the back of the cave and sat on the floor, the spear beside her, poised to strike should anything dare enter.

Just as she sat down, her body nearly collapsed. She felt herself turn to jelly, her mind turning sluggish for a fleeting moment. A full day of unbroken tension, constant vigilance, and constant fear of an unseen strike had worn her thin. She longed to sleep, but she knew she couldn’t. Not until she found a temple. And she was still deep in the wilderness; nothing here could be considered safe.

Drawing several long, steady breaths, she forced her body and mind to settle. She shifted into her preferred meditative posture and began to breathe as quietly as possible. The less sound she made, the better. There was no telling when some dangerous beast might wander close to the cave.

Judging by the steep slope outside and the ancient bones inside, the cave had once belonged to some aerial predator. She only hoped nothing would bother climbing the treacherous incline unless it sensed her. What she feared most were insect-type beasts, but she had seen no sign of any. The floor was solid stone... too hard for burrowing creatures to break through. Aside from climbing in from outside, there seemed no other way into the cave.

A faint silvery glow spilled across the entrance... likely moonlight, but she had no intention of peering out and exposing herself.

Though she remained alert to every sound, she finally allowed her body and mind a small measure of rest. After such an unrelenting day, both were screaming for it. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

And as soon as her thoughts loosened, a question surged up... one she had forgotten in the chaos. She clearly remembered the name Yggdrasil had spoken: "Eleanor Elizabeth Brontes Lychos." The shock of it returned instantly. Yggdrasil had changed her name entirely.

"How did I become a Lychos instead of a Raynor...?" she whispered.