Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

Luther’s POV

*****

"I never got your name." Luther turned back, gaze pointed at the White Flame guy.

Calling him that in his head when he was supposed to be the leader here was becoming tiresome.

The young man gave Rebecca a silent look before clearing his throat. "Hudson."

Huh... That name didn’t sound wolf-like at all. Pretty simple actually.

But Luther didn’t comment on that, nodding once. "Hudson. Nice to meet you."

No one said anything.

Their walk forward was uninterrupted, the mist almost completely parted now, leaving only a barely visible layer. Life seemed null, save for a few plants in the form of grass sprouting at different spots.

’So in other words... Boring.’ his wolf grunted. ’Are you telling me the rest of this trial is going to be you leading these delinquents like a mama duck?’

’You didn’t seem troubled when the valley chose me,’ Luther responded calmly. ’And I doubt this peace will last for long. Something seems... Wrong.’

He participated in the Blood Trials last year. That trial was far different, involving him and the others fighting off illusion Vein Beasts.

Simple stuff.

Not whatever all this was.

He let out a sigh, deciding to speak. "Everyone stay alert. Anything could happen and we don’t want—"

Air caught in his lungs, eyes widening when he saw something ahead that made him freeze. He took a trembling step back, immediately raising an arm at the rest.

"Stop!"

The order echoed into the valley like a thunderclap. Everyone paused, gasping when they took in what lay before them.

"Gods help us..." Rebecca mumbled.

Splitting deep into the earth was a ravine. It was large, spreading for what seemed over a hundred meters across from their side to the other one.

The ravine lay before them like the earth itself had been split open in a fit of violence.

Jagged rock walls plunged downward into darkness so thick it swallowed sound. Even with his heightened senses, Luther couldn’t hear the bottom—no echo, no wind rush.

Nothing.

Just hints of mist rolling lazily inside the abyss, like something down there was breathing.

Rebecca crouched almost immediately, fingers brushing the soil near the edge. Her eyes narrowed, scanning every angle.

"There’s no bridge," she murmured. "No support. No illusion seams either." She leaned farther, squinting. "And the mist isn’t decorative. It’s masking depth perception."

Luther watched her quietly as she spoke.

She wasn’t panicking. Not posturing. Just... assessing. As if she’d already accepted the ravine wasn’t something to be fought head-on.

’Noted...’ he thought.

A few steps back, Hudson stood unnervingly still. His gaze wasn’t on the ravine but slightly to the left—where the ground dipped unevenly and the mist moved against the current.

His eyes were... strategic.

Damien, on the other hand, scoffed.

"This is it?" He cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders. "I thought the wolf trial was supposed to be challenging."

Rebecca shot him a look. "You can’t smell arrogance, can you? Because it’s practically reeking off you."

Damien ignored her, backing up several steps. "If there’s no bridge, we make one."

"Or," Hudson said evenly, "you fall to your death."

Damien grinned. "Guess we’ll find out."

Before Luther could stop him, Damien broke into a sprint.

"Damien—!"

Too late.

He shifted mid-run, bones snapping, fur exploding across his skin as his wolf form surged forward with raw momentum. Yet the instant he leapt, the mist surged violently upward—thickening and swallowing his vision.

"Idiot!" Rebecca shouted as Damien vanished into the fog.

For half a heartbeat, there was nothing.

Then—

A glowing silver rope lashed out from Rebecca’s hand, coiling around Damien’s hind leg mid-air. She dug her heels into the ground, teeth clenched as the rope went taut.

"HELP ME—" Damien’s snarl cut off as gravity pulled hard.

Luther moved without thinking, bracing behind Rebecca, grabbing the rope with both hands. Hudson joined instantly, anchoring the line.

With a combined heave, they yanked Damien back.

He hit the ground hard, skidding across dirt before slamming into a rock with a pained grunt.

Rebecca stood over him, breathing hard. "Do that again," she said coldly, "and I’ll let the valley keep you."

Damien shifted back into human form, coughing. "You didn’t have to—"

"I did," she snapped. "Because if you die, we all lose."

Silence followed.

Luther exhaled slowly, pulse still racing.

’So,’ his wolf drawled just then, ’we’ve confirmed one thing... Your friend Damien is still an even bigger idiot than you.’

’There’s no way across,’ Luther ignored the insult. ’At least not one we can force.’

He stepped closer to the ravine, studying it now—not as an obstacle, but as a question.

"There’s no way around," he said aloud. "And no way over if we keep trying to overpower it."

Damien scoffed weakly. "So what? Will we turn back?"

"No," Luther said.

He crouched.

The movement was subconscious. His palm pressed flat against the earth at the ravine’s edge, fingers splayed.

The ground was cool.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then the mist stirred.

Slowly, it peeled away from the ravine’s centre.

Stone groaned.

A narrow bridge emerged from the abyss, rising like it had always been there and was only now being acknowledged.

Rebecca sucked in a sharp breath. "You... didn’t cast some ancient incantation, right?"

"I didn’t," Luther replied, heart pounding.

They crossed carefully, the bridge solid beneath their feet. By the time they reached the other side, Luther’s lungs burned, chest rising and falling heavily.

Hudson broke the silence first. "That stunt," he said coolly to Damien, "nearly cost us the trial."

Damien bristled. "I was testing—"

"Your ego," Hudson cut in.

Damien stepped forward, anger twisting his features. "Say that again—"

"Enough," Luther said.

Both of them froze.

"We assign roles. Now."

They turned to him.

"Rebecca," Luther continued, meeting her gaze. "You observe first, move fastest, and think three steps ahead. You’re a scout—and my Beta."

She blinked once at first. Then nodded. "Understood."

"Hudson," he said, turning. "You guard our rear and flanks. You keep us alive. Our Gamma."

Hudson inclined his head. "I’ll hold the line."

"And Damien," Luther finished, steady. "You’re our Delta. You take hits. You break what needs breaking—but you don’t act alone."

Damien clenched his jaw... then nodded.

As they moved forward, a faint tug brushed Luther’s chest. An emotion that wasn’t his.

Warm. Brief—

Pride.

From Celeste.

He barely had time to process it before the path darkened ahead.

Trees rose unnaturally close together. Shadows stretched too long, peeling off trunks and taking shape. Eyes glowed within them.

Wolf-shaped.

His wolf growled low.

’Now this,’ it muttered, ’looks fun.’

The forest shifted.

And out of it, Shadow Wolves moved, bloodshot eyes locked on the group.