Jack’s POVThe pack finally stops for a rest after hours of trekking through the dense forest. The sun hangs low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the clearing where we gather. The younger wolves sprawl out on the ground, exhaustion evident in their movements. Some older wolves take watch, their eyes scanning the tree line for any sign of danger. I stand near the edge of the group, observing, calculating, and trying to find a moment of peace in this chaos. Eldris, as always, is nearby, his presence a mixture of comfort and intrigue. He’s been with us for days now, ever since he arrived with news of Nightspire’s plan to declare war. His knowledge has proven invaluable, though I’ve yet to fully decide if I trust him. He has a way of knowing too much, of seeing too far ahead. Still, I can’t deny the truth in his words or the insight he’s offered. “Jack.” His voice breaks through my thoughts, low and deliberate. I turn to face him, finding his pale blue eyes already fixed on
Violet’s POV The pack trudges onward, exhaustion creeping into every step. Jack leads at the front, his movements steady despite the weariness I know he must feel. I linger near the back, my mind clouded not by fatigue but by the whispers of the tether. It coils around my thoughts like smoke, its voice soft and insidious. ‘Eldris doesn’t belong here,’ it murmurs. ‘He’s dangerous, a shadow in the fold.’I shake my head, trying to dispel the thoughts. But the tether persists, weaving doubt into every corner of my mind. It knows how to press against my insecurities, exploiting the fact that Eldris has been with us for days yet remains an enigma. When the pack pauses to rest near a shallow river, I feel the tether’s presence stronger than ever, a cold weight in my chest. Wolves fan out to gather firewood and prepare for the night, but I stay rooted in place, my gaze fixed on Eldris as he speaks quietly with Asa. ‘You should tell Jack,’ the tether urges. ‘Convince him to rid the pac
Jack's POV The scent of the buck is sharp in the air, cutting through the familiar tang of the forest. My senses sharpen, every sound and movement amplified. Days of empty bellies and restless nights have made the pack restless, but this kill will change that. It has to. I raise a hand, signalling the pack to halt. “Quiet,” I whisper, my voice low and firm. They freeze behind me, their eagerness palpable, their breaths hushed. Eldris, as always, stays a step behind the group, watching with his usual calm detachment. His presence still stirs unease, though I’ve made it clear that he’s staying. His knowledge of the forest and Nightspire’s plans is too valuable. The buck comes into view—a magnificent creature, its antlers spreading wide, its body taut with strength. It grazes in a small clearing, blissfully unaware of the predators lurking just beyond the trees. My heart quickens, but my movements remain deliberate and precise. I glance back, meeting Violet’s eyes briefly. For a mome
Jack's POV The forest breathes with life as dawn breaks, the air crisp and laden with the earthy scent of dew-soaked leaves. I rise before the others, my senses attuned to every sound. The pack sleeps in scattered clusters, their forms wrapped in blankets and cloaks against the chill. Last night’s feast brought a rare sense of calm, but it won’t last. It never does. I stretch, my muscles tight from days of travel, and take a moment to survey the clearing. Eldris is awake too, perched on a fallen log near the edge of the camp. His eyes are distant, his posture stiff, as though he’s wrestling with thoughts; he doesn’t dare voice. It’s not unusual for him to keep to himself, but something about his demeanour today feels different. I approach him quietly, my footsteps deliberately light to avoid waking the others. He doesn’t flinch or startle as I sit beside him, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Couldn’t sleep?” I ask, breaking the silence. He shakes his head. “Not much use in it thes
Jack's POV The forest opens before us, the dense canopy giving way to the edges of human civilization. For days, we’ve trudged through the wilderness, the ground uneven and slick with fallen leaves, but now the terrain changes. The air smells different—cleaner yet tinged with the faint aroma of smoke and something else I can’t place. Ahead, Eldris halts and raises his hand, signalling us to stop. His sharp eyes scan the horizon, and I follow his gaze. Just beyond the treeline, the human settlement comes into view. It’s nothing like I expected. “Is that... brick?” Violet whispers, her voice unsteady. She steps forward, her amber eyes wide with disbelief, her usual guarded demeanour replaced with genuine curiosity. I nod slowly, though I can hardly believe it myself. The structure ahead is a small house, built from smooth red bricks that seem unnaturally uniform. The roof is sloped, its tiles perfectly aligned, and a strange reflective material covers the windows. The whole thing lo
Jenna’s POVThe soft knock at my door jolts me awake, my wolf stirring restlessly at the disturbance. The inn is usually quiet at this hour, but the urgency in the sound puts me on edge. I swing my legs off the bed and pad to the door, opening it to find Eleanor. She stands with her arms crossed, her eyes holding a strange mix of calm and tension. “Come with me,” she says softly, gesturing for me to follow. I don’t question her. Something in her tone tells me this isn’t about the spy we’d uncovered earlier—it’s something else. I throw on a sweater and trail her down the creaky stairs, out the back door, and into the crisp night air. Eleanor leads me toward the cluster of trees at the edge of the inn’s property. There, in the faint moonlight, two figures emerge—a young man and a woman, their clothes worn and their faces etched with fatigue. “They showed up tonight,” Eleanor says, stopping a few steps away from them. “They need help." I glance between the strangers and Eleanor, my
Jenna's POV The sharp crack of wood splintering jolts me awake, the sound echoing through the inn like a gunshot. My wolf growls deep inside me, her instincts flaring to life. Something is wrong. I’m out of bed in an instant, yanking open my door just as Eleanor appears in the hallway, her expression grim and focused. “They’re here,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Humans?” I ask, already knowing the answer. She nods, her gaze darting toward the stairs. “Armed. Council dogs."My blood runs cold. The council wasn’t wasting time—they’d sent their human hunters to flush us out. “Wake Caleb and Mia,” I say, my voice hard. “I’ll find Greta." Eleanor nods and disappears down the hall as I race toward Greta’s room. The old wolf is already awake, her sharp eyes scanning the darkness. She doesn’t ask questions—she doesn’t need to. “We’re under attack,” I tell her. “You need to take Mia and run. Get her out of here." Greta frowns, her jaw tightening. “And leave you behind?
Jack’s POVThe days pass in a blur of unease and fascination. Each morning, we wake to a world that feels alien—smooth floors beneath our feet, no damp earth or leaves clinging to our skin. The house itself is strange, with its glowing orbs that light up the night and its doors that shut with a tightness that keeps the wind and cold completely at bay. On the first day, Eldris shows us how to use the objects around us. He calls them “appliances.” A box that keeps food cold without ice, a stove that heats without fire, and strange fixtures in the walls that bring water at the twist of a handle. It’s all overwhelming, but there’s no denying how useful these things are. For the pack, adapting to human ways is harder than I expected. Eating from plates with knives and forks feels unnatural, but Eldris insists we must. “If you want to pass as human, you must live like them,” he tells us. “They eat with tools, not their hands. They use furniture, not the ground.” At first, the pack res
Raina’s POV The car hums steadily, its engine a low, persistent drone that blends with the crunch of gravel beneath the tires. My arms are crossed over my chest, my shoulders rigid as I sit lost in thought. I try to focus on the road ahead, on the trees blurring past the window, on anything but the gnawing unease in my chest. It doesn’t work. No matter how hard I try, my thoughts keep circling back to Eleanor. She’s calm as she drives, her hands steady on the wheel. Her expression is composed, focused, almost serene. It would be easy to take comfort in her confidence, to let her quiet leadership lull us into a sense of safety. But I can’t. I’ve never been wrong about someone’s aura. Not once. And Eleanor’s... hers is a tangled mess. There’s darkness there, hidden beneath her kind smiles and steady demeanor. It clings to her like a shadow, heavy and suffocating. She’s been good to us, though. I can’t deny that. I glance at Jenna sitting beside me, her face turned toward the windo
Jenna’s POVThe soft warmth of sunlight filters through the curtains, painting golden streaks across the room. I wake with a start, sitting upright as the realization sinks in. Nothing has happened. No hunters, no alarms, no chaos. Just the sun spilling its light, as if mocking all the fears I had carried into my dreams. I exhale deeply, relief washing over me like a tide pulling back from the shore. Today’s the day. The day we leave the sanctuary. A pang of sadness hits me as I glance around the room. The worn, sturdy furniture, the faint scent of wood and pine, the quiet stillness that had cocooned us for days—it had all become a kind of home. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe here. Tranquil. But the sanctuary isn’t ours to keep. It’s a fleeting refuge, not a permanent haven. Still, a part of me dares to hope. Maybe, after all this is over, we could come back here. When the Council is defeated, when we’ve won our freedom. Maybe then we’ll finally be able to call a p
Jenna’s POVThe sound of quiet footsteps leads me to the back porch, where I find Greta sitting alone, her back resting against the wooden railing. The last light of the setting sun paints the sky in soft oranges and pinks, but her gaze is distant, as though she’s looking at something far beyond the horizon. I hesitate for a moment before stepping outside. The cool air wraps around me, carrying with it the faint scent of pine. Greta glances over her shoulder as the door creaks behind me, her expression neutral but not unwelcoming. “Mind if I join you?” I ask.“Suit yourself,” she replies, shifting slightly to make room. I sit down beside her, my legs stretched out, hands resting on my knees. For a while, neither of us speaks, the silence between us filled with the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. “Talking about Raymond earlier,” I start, breaking the quiet, “it made me think about the inn. I guess… I wanted to know how you really feel about everything that happened." Greta e
Jenna’s POVThe warm glow of evening light bathes the living room, softening the edges of the worn-out furniture and casting long shadows against the walls. The mood is light for once, laughter bouncing off the walls like it hasn’t in weeks. Caleb sharpens his knife at the corner of the room, the rhythmic scrape against the whetstone almost soothing. Greta lounges on the couch, shuffling a deck of cards with practiced ease. Mia giggles on the floor as she carefully stacks the cards into a lopsided tower. Eleanor sits in an armchair by the window, stitching up a tear in her jacket, her hands steady despite the dim light. The atmosphere feels almost normal, like we’re just a group of friends passing time. For a fleeting moment, the weight of everything we’ve been through seems to lift. Almost.Raina stands apart from the rest, leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her eyes are distant; she doesn’t join the conversation and doesn’t laugh or smile. Wh
Jenna’s POVThe room feels unusually still as I sit on the edge of the bed, the weight of the day’s tension still hanging in the air. It’s quiet—too quiet. The kind of silence that presses in from all sides. The kind that fills a space with thoughts, memories, and emotions that I don’t always want to face. But I don’t have a choice.I try to focus on the faint glow from the bedside lamp, the soft hum of the air around me—anything to drown out the nagging feeling that keeps gnawing at the back of my mind. The decision to wait a few days feels right, but there’s a part of me that’s still restless. The council is out there. Always hunting. Waiting. And I can’t shake the feeling that we’re running out of time.A soft knock on the door breaks my reverie. My heart skips, but I push the nerves down, trying to keep my composure.“Come in,” I call out.The door creaks open slowly, and I turn to see Raina standing there. Her usual easygoing smile is absent tonight. Instead, her expression is g
Jenna’s POVEleanor takes a breath, absorbing the information. “The area around here,” she says cautiously. “Any packs? Anything out of the ordinary?”Silas is quiet for a moment, then he replies in a low, thoughtful tone. “This might be a little too timely to be coincidental.”Eleanor’s stew narrows, her shoulders squaring as she asks, “What is it?”“Earlier today, my wife and I went to say hi to our new neighbors. The empty house that hasn’t been occupied in decades finally got lived in. When Hannah and I heard voices, we decided to go say hi. It turns out it’s a battalion of people—men, women, and children.”“What?” Eleanor gasps.“We are just as shocked as you are,” Silas says wryly. “We tried to get information out of the one who appeared to be the leader without being too direct. But he only gave us smart answers. I’d wanted to let him know we were no threat, but then again, we have to be careful too. Can’t do anything that'll get my wife killed.” Silas’s last statement is pitch
Jenna's POVThe walk back to the house is steady but quiet, the weight of our survival sinking in. The forest feels alive in a way that stirs something deep in my chest, the primal part of me that feels most at home out here. But even the wild has its dangers. The Council, the hunters—they could be watching.When the house comes into view, the tension eases just slightly. Mia walks beside me, her white fur shimmering faintly under the dappled sunlight, before she shifts back into her human form. Her cheeks are flushed, and despite the exhaustion, there’s a proud spark in her eyes.“You did well today,” I tell her, my voice quiet but firm.She glances at me, a smile tugging at her lips. “It feels... different now. Like I’ve found a part of myself I didn’t know was missing.”“You have,” I say, resting a hand on her shoulder briefly. “And now, you’ll only get stronger.” She has to be; the world that we live in requires that of her, even though she could be considered a little young. Gre
Jack's POVThe day starts slow, the lingering exhaustion from training is still clinging to the muscles, but we’re used to that. It's the quiet that feels strange today. After all the noise, the shouting, and the physicality of our lessons, the house feels almost unnervingly still. Violet is inside with the younger ones, settling them into a kind of routine, while the rest of us are scattered around the clearing, checking gear, sharpening weapons, and keeping an eye on the perimeter.I don’t know why it hits me today, but I can feel it—the tension in the air, the prickling sense that something is off. Maybe it’s the calm before the storm, or maybe it’s just the lingering thoughts of our strange neighbors. I don’t trust them, not in the slightest, but I can’t figure out why. And just like that, a knock comes again. Soft, tentative. The doorframe seems smaller with the weight of my unease pressing down on me, but I push it aside, my face carefully neutral. The town’s starting to feel l
Jenna's POVThe forest grows denser the deeper we move. The scent of damp earth and wild greenery fills the air, a sharp contrast to the stale atmosphere of human settlements. There’s an energy here, primal and unrestrained, that stirs something deep within me. We finally stop in a small clearing, sunlight dappling the mossy ground. This is far enough, I decide. “This is the spot,” I say, turning to the group. Eleanor is already tugging off her borrowed shirt, a wicked grin on her face. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m tired of wearing someone else’s clothes." Raina shoots her a sidelong look but says nothing. Caleb and Greta follow suit, their movements efficient and practiced. It feels natural, shedding the remnants of human normalcy to embrace who we are. Mia hesitates.I notice the way her hands clutch at the hem of her sweater and the uncertainty in her eyes. “It’s okay,” I tell her gently. “Take your time." She nods but doesn’t move. Eleanor notices too. “Mia,