*Isabella*Chet and I are far enough away from the wagon party that they ain’t able to hear us, but we don’t wanna alert any potential enemies to our hidin’ place.“I will try to be quiet,” I say through the mind-link. With a sly smile, I add, “But no promises.”With his palm cradlin’ my head, Chet lies me on my back in the lush moss beneath the trees. He unlaces the bodice of my dress, and my breasts spring forward into the cool night air. As soon as they are uncovered, both of them are enveloped again by Chet’s enormous hands.“You are so beautiful,” he praises me through the mind-link, attemptin’ to be as quiet as possible.As he continues to worship my breasts with his lips and tongue, Chet’s hands roam down to the hem of my dress, liftin’ it to above my waist. He licks and sucks m
*Chet*As soon as I ensure Unega is safely in her father’s wagon, I stride swiftly toward my own, waking my brother and cousins with a firm shake of their shoulders.“Up. Now,” I command in a hushed tone, careful not to wake the families in the other wagons. “Unega and I were attacked.”Mo sits up immediately, eyes sharp despite the early hour. “Where? Was she injured?”“No, just a scratch on her shoulder,” I assure him. “She fought well, and we were victorious. Two rogues ambushed us in a grove of trees about one hundred and fifty yards from camp. Unega gravely wounded one, and I took the life of the other.”
*Isabella*Since the mornin’ after I became Luna—my birthday, when our pack bowed their heads to me, acceptin’ me as their Alpha’s mate—every day has been a whirlwind. Even on the days filled with monotonous travel, there’s always somethin’ wondrous waitin’ just beyond the horizon. Each sunrise, a chance to become a better leader.The elk hunt showed us that when we work together, we are unstoppable. Our warriors took down a prized bull elk with pristine form on our first try, a testament to what we can accomplish as a unified pack.I sit beside Chet on our wagon, my heart light despite the dust on the trail. “Just imagine what life will be like once we’re settled,” I muse. “Buffalo and elk herds runnin’ wild, plenty of game, a real home for our pack.”Chet, lookin’ a touch sleepy, gives me a sidelong glance. “Life will be better once we are
*Chet*The decision to remain on horseback alongside Mac and Unega rather than shifting was not made lightly. My wolf senses are sharp, but if we find Robert—and I am determined that we will—we must be in our human forms to help him.The scent of a human lingers along the path, interwoven with Robert’s wolf shifter scent, unsettling me. The others have noticed it, too.“Alpha, we all smell another human,” Mo informs me through the mind-link.“I have noticed that as well. Stay vigilant. Keep following the trail. We will find him,” I reply, keeping my voice steady.I glance at Unega. She is more worried than I have ever seen her. Her father, usually a pillar of unwavering strength, rides beside us, his jaw tight with unspoken dread.I slow my horse and dismount, kneeling beside a deep imprint in the earth. “Look here, Unega,” I say, pressing my fingers into the edge of the tra
*Isabella*The warriors untie our hands but keep a watchful eye on us. They don’t say much, just gesture for us to follow. I exchange a glance with Chet and Pa, then fall in step behind them, my heart hammerin’ so hard I reckon they can hear it.They lead us down a narrow path, deeper into the land they protect. The towering rock formations rise above us, jagged against the dark sky, but it ain't a cave we’re walkin’ toward—it’s a village. Lodges and tepees, sturdy and well-kept, stretch across the valley floor, flickerin’ firelight dancin’ between ‘em. The air is thick with the scent of cookin’ meat, smoke, and earth.Children peek out from behind the tents, watchin’ us with wide, curious eyes, while men and women stand near the fires, murmurin’ to one another as we pass. This is a home, a community.Chet, his voice low and formal, speaks through the mind-link, “This is no rogu
*Isabella*My heart pounds as the Chyara elder’s words settle in. We ain’t leavin’ tonight. We are stayin’ here—in their land, in their settlement, surrounded by their people. I ain’t sure if that’s an act of hospitality or control.“You four will stay here tonight,” the elder says firmly, his expression unreadable. “It is too dark to travel with the young boy.”I glance at Chet and Pa, searchin’ their faces for a response. We all know this ain’t exactly a request.“Tell your warriors to return to your camp and bring word to the boy’s mother that he is well,” the elder continues.I nod slowly. “We rightly appreciate yer help and the invitation to stay the night,” I say, keepin’ my voice steady, though unease prickles along my skin. The settlement is well protected, the people strong, and they ain’t done nothin’ to harm Robert. But somethin’ inside me still ain’t sure whether we can fully trust ‘em yet.Through the mind-link, I ask, “Should we do as he says?”Chet answers first. “We ma
*Isabella*Steppin’ out into the sunlight, I squint against the brightness, realizin’ it’s later in the mornin’ than I thought.“My goodness, we must’ve slept late,” I murmur to Chet just as a pony races by, nearly knockin’ me off my feet.“Hey, Izzy!” Robert hollers, grinnin’ from atop a gorgeous Appaloosa filly, his small hands tight on the reins.“Hey, Robert! Look at you go!” I call back, my heart lighter seein’ him safe and happy.Pa strides over, his expression unreadable as he takes in the sight before us. The Chyara settlement is alive with movement. Everywhere, people are workin’ in harmony, tendin’ to the land and each other.Shepherds guide flocks through open fields while other men tend to their herds. Women kneel in gardens, their hands skillful as they pull weeds and harvest food. Others weave baskets, likely used for gatherin’ nuts, berries, and roots. Older children fetch water from the creek while the younger ones follow their mothers or play in groups, watched over b
*Chet*The morning sun rises steadily, casting long shadows across the open prairie. Unega emerges from our wagon, stretching as she takes in the fresh Wyoming air. Though she is weary from months on the trail, there is an undeniable strength in the way she carries herself. She is a survivor, a leader, my Luna. Watching her tend to her mother and younger siblings fills me with admiration.I wonder how many children we will have. She will be a nurturing mother.As the buffalo herd fades into the distance, leaving only vast, open land ahead, I take a deep breath. We are close now. The scent of fresh water carries on the crisp morning air, mingling with the promise of the life we will soon build.“Only about a week left to go,” I say, turning toward my Luna with a rare, easy grin.“I’m burstin’ with excitement!” Unega beams, her eyes bright with anticipation.“We will have to hold a proper wedding ceremony once we are settled,” I tease, nudging her gently.Her lips part in surprise. “We
*One year later**Unega* A cool autumn breeze rustles through the valley as I step out onto the porch of our cabin, wrapping my shawl tighter around my shoulders. The sun is setting, casting the land in golden hues, the sky streaked with soft pinks and purples. Smoke curls from chimneys, the scent of roasted venison and fresh bread filling the crisp evening air.We made it.One year ago, this place was nothing more than an idea—a hope, a dream, a distant possibility. Now, it is home.Chet steps up behind me, wrapping his strong arms around my waist. I lean into him, breathing in his scent—woodsmoke, leather, and something uniquely him. His warmth seeps into my skin, grounding me.“How’s he doin’?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple.I glance down at the bundle nestled against my chest, our son wrapped snug in a soft wool blanket. His tiny body rises and falls with each peaceful breath, his little hands curled into fists. Takola.He is everything good in this world.“He’s finall
*Chet*The fire rages, turning the sky into a hellish inferno. Smoke burns my throat, and searing heat licks at my fur as I weave through the battlefield. I can barely see through the chaos—wolves locked in combat, blood staining the dirt, rogues moving like shadows in the haze.And then, through it all, I see her.Unega.She lies on the ground, her white fur streaked with crimson, barely moving. The rogues have surrounded her."No. No, no, no!" My heart pounds like war drums in my chest.I lunge forward, tearing through the wolves in my way, my fangs finding flesh, my claws ripping through fur and muscle. A rogue snaps at my flank, but I don’t feel the pain. I can only think of her."Hold on, Unega! I'm coming!" I send through the mind-link.Nothing.Dread sinks its claws into me. The world blurs into a storm of blood and fire. I kill anything that gets between us, but the rogues are relentless. They seem to know what she means to me.I push forward, my vision narrowing to only her.
*Isabella*October 1885 For nearly a month now, two Chyara warriors, Avoon and Hotoa, have been livin’ among us, huntin’ with our pack, teachin’ us new tracking techniques, and sharing stories around our fire. Their presence has been a comfort, but also a constant reminder of the warning their elders gave us—the fire wolves are near.I think back to the first time I heard the name spoken among the Chyara. When we traveled east to visit our friends, they did not hesitate to tell us of the rogue packs who use fire as a weapon against their enemies. The same wolves that Chet saw once before, burnin’ an entire village to the ground."They do not fight like normal wolves," the Chyara elder had said. "They hunt not just for food, but for destruction. They leave nothing but ashes behind."That alone was enough to make my stomach twist, but then the elder looked directly at Chet. "You have seen them before, have you not?"Chet’s jaw had clenched, his hands curled into fists at his sides. "I
*Chet*Mo’s breathing is shallow. His once-powerful body lies limp on the ground, his dark fur matted with blood. The wound on his throat is deep—too deep. Unega’s mother, Reba, and my Luna are working frantically to stop the bleeding, but the life is draining from him too fast.I kneel beside him, my hands clenched into fists, helplessness clawing at my gut. He has been my brother in all but blood since childhood. I cannot lose him now."Mo, stay with us," I urge through the mind-link, but his eyes barely flicker.Unega’s hands are steady, her expression calm but focused as she applies pressure with a clean strip of cloth from Reba’s satchel. Her mother mixes a poultice from herbs she gathered weeks ago—yarrow, comfrey, and goldenrod. The scent is strong, bitter, but it will help."His pulse is weak," Reba murmurs, her brows furrowed. "We need to get the bleeding under control before we do anything else.""He’s lost too much blood," I say, my voice hoarse. "He needs time to heal, but
*Chet* The alliance with the Chyara has been a blessing to our pack. Over the past several months, we have learned valuable lessons from them—about the land, the migration of game, and the dangers that lurk beyond our borders. The knowledge they have shared has made us stronger, but it has also opened our eyes to the reality that we are not alone in this vast wilderness.Tonight, we have invited them to join us around our fire. One of the elders, a small woman with long white braids, sits behind Alice, weaving her hair into a similar braid while sharing wisdom about the land.“You have settled well here,” she says, her voice calm but firm. “But danger still circles like a wolf on the hunt.”I glance at Unega, who stiffens beside me. “What does she mean?” Unega asks through the mind-link.The elder gestures westward, her dark eyes sharp. “There are others,” she says. “Wolves who have no home, no honor. They take what they want, destroy what they cannot. They do not fight for survival,
September 1885*Isabella*Wyoming’s harsh land has slowly shaped itself into a home. It has been several months since we first staked our claim, and the settlement has transformed. The cabins, once just rough-cut logs stacked in hopeful piles, now stand strong, their stone chimneys curling with the smoke of warm fires. The scent of cedar and fresh-cut wood hangs thick in the air as the final few homes are being built.Autumn’s chill is creeping into the evenings, hinting at the winter to come. The fields we cleared in the summer now hold the first true crops—corn, beans, squash—thrivin’ under the wide Wyoming sky. What once was dry, cracked land now bursts with golden hues, swayin’ tall in the breeze. The hunters have done their part too, bringin’ in plenty of meat, dryin’ strips of venison and buffalo to last through the cold months.Everything is changin’—for the better.But despite all we’ve built, Chet and I know we need more than just strong walls and full stores to keep our peop
*Chet*The rain has finally passed, leaving the land damp and rich with the scent of earth and renewal. The morning sun peeks through the dissipating clouds, casting golden light over our encampment. It is a welcome sight, one that signals a shift—a new beginning.As I step out of our wagon, the air is crisp, carrying with it the promise of hard work and progress. The storm may have disrupted our scouting efforts last night, but it also left behind the perfect conditions to resume building.I find Unega already awake, speaking with her father and a few of the men about the cabins we have begun constructing.“The soil’s soft now,” Pa notes, inspecting the ground. “It’ll be easier to get these cedar trees cut and the foundation set.”“We got lucky with that rain,” I remark, and Unega nods.“Lucky or blessed,” she says with a small smile. “Either way, I’m just glad it let up when it did.”“We should thank the Moon Goddess,” I agree. “She has watched over us since we left Tennessee.”The
*Isabella*The scent of sweat, dust, and blood thickens in the air, settlin’ heavy in my lungs. My paws press into the damp earth, muscles coiled tight as I follow Chet’s lead through the darkened forest. We are nearly done checkin’ our perimeters, but somethin’ feels off.Then I hear it—the distant clash of weapons, the guttural war cries of men locked in battle.Chet slows beside me, his massive black wolf blendin’ into the shadows. “Do you hear that?” he asks through the mind-link.“Yeah. And I smell ‘em, too.” The metallic tang of blood, the musk of too many bodies movin’ at once—it all comes together now.Takoda and Ginny, just behind us, tense at the same time.“Two groups. Both human,” Takoda confirms, his wolf’s ears twitchin’ forward.I peer through the trees, eyes lockin’ onto the scene just beyond the ridge. Firelight flickers against the wet bark of the trees, castin’ eerie shadows over the battlefield below. Warriors, fierce and determined, clash in the open space, their
*Isabella*The scent of fresh-cut cedar fills the air as axes swing and saws cut through the sturdy trunks. The rhythmic thunk of wood hittin’ the ground echoes through the trees, minglin’ with the voices of our packmates workin’ together to build our new homes.It feels real now—this land, this future we’re claimin’ as our own.Chet stands beside me, sleeves rolled up, sweat glistenin’ on his skin as he directs the men on how to lay the foundation beams. The strength in his arms, the way his muscles move beneath his tanned skin, sends warmth spreadin’ through my chest. My Alpha. My mate. My future.“We’ll have the first cabins framed before nightfall,” he says, his tone full of certainty. “Once we have a few homes built, we can start work on a meeting hall and a proper cookhouse.”I nod, feelin’ the weight of what we’re creatin’ here. “It’s gonna be a beautiful place, Chet.”His eyes soften as he glances at me. “It already is.”I smile, restin’ my palm against a newly stripped log, b