Rouge wolf

The dense forest loomed around me, its shadows shifting with every whisper of the wind. The towering trees seemed endless, forming a natural prison that stretched far beyond what I had imagined. My breath hitched, and I forced myself to calm down. Panicking wouldn't help me now. 

Thanks to my enhanced senses, I could hear the faint rustling of leaves, the scurrying of small animals, and the gentle gurgle of a stream somewhere to my right. The moonlight barely penetrated the thick canopy, but my sharp eyesight adjusted well enough to see a faint path ahead. 

I moved swiftly but quietly, my feet barely making a sound against the forest floor. Every crunch of a twig underfoot made my heart race. I couldn't afford to be reckless—werewolves thrived in the darkness. 

And if someone caught me... 

I swallowed hard. I had no good excuse for why I was wandering the forest alone at night. "Oh, I just felt like going for a midnight stroll?" Yeah, that wouldn't fly. 

I paused, leaning against a tree to catch my breath. The cold night air stung my lungs. A faint breeze carried unfamiliar scents—earth, moss, and something sharper. My ears perked at the sound of distant voices. 

No. 

I couldn't be caught now. 

Determined, I veered off the path, hoping to throw off anyone who might be following me. The underbrush scratched at my legs, but I pressed on, ignoring the sting. Branches snagged at my dress, but I yanked myself free each time. 

Despite my best efforts, a gnawing sense of hopelessness crept in. The Silvermoon territory was vast, much larger than I had initially thought. No matter how far I ran, the forest seemed endless. The trees loomed like silent sentinels, watching my every move, as if they were part of the pack themselves. 

My body ached, and the pain in my bones from my injuries reminded me I wasn't at full strength. I clenched my teeth and forced myself to keep moving. 

I stumbled over a root falling before I could balance myself, there was a deep gash on my palm the rough stone shearing the skin off my palm. 

The sting in my palm intensified as I pressed it against my side, trying to stop the bleeding. The metallic scent of blood was sharp and distinct, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest. I gritted my teeth, frustrated. If only I could shift into my wolf form—this injury would heal in seconds. But my body was weak, barely hanging on as it was. 

Leaves crunched behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts. 

I froze. 

My heart raced, thudding violently against my ribs. My ears strained to catch any further sound, but the forest had fallen unnaturally silent. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath. 

I whipped around, scanning the shadows. Nothing. 

Panic crawled up my spine. Was it just my imagination? Or had someone really followed me? 

I couldn't take any chances. My instincts kicked in, and I quickly scrambled to my feet despite the sharp pain shooting up my leg. Wincing, I pressed my back against the rough bark of a towering tree, using it as cover. My breath came in shallow gasps as I assessed the situation. 

The shadows shifted with the moonlight, but there was no sign of movement. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. 

I clenched my fists, ignoring the sting in my palm. If someone were out there, they'd smell the blood. It was like a beacon, leading them straight to me. 

A low, menacing growl shattered the stillness of the night, slicing through the suffocating silence. 

Behind the thick bushes, eyes gleamed—piercing and predatory. A massive wolf prowled forward, its blood-streaked fur glinting in the moonlight. My stomach twisted as I realized it wasn't its blood staining its coat. This wolf was a killer. 

A rogue. 

Its golden eyes locked on me with murderous intent, a feral hunger evident in its gaze. My blood ran cold. Rogues were dangerous, unpredictable, and merciless. 

I backed away, my heart racing, my pulse a frantic drumbeat in my ears. If only I could shift. And even if I could shift, this wolf was bigger, stronger, and battle-hardened. 

Outrunning it was out of the question. 

I was defenseless. 

The rogue's lips curled into a vicious snarl as it crouched, muscles coiling. 

I knew what was coming. 

My breath hitched as it lunged toward me, powerful and lethal. I barely had time to brace for impact, panic flooding every inch of my body. 

But before it could reach me, a blur of movement cut through the darkness. 

A powerful wolf—larger and more imposing—crashed into the rogue with bone-jarring force. The ground trembled beneath their weight as they tumbled into the underbrush, snarls and snapping jaws breaking the night's eerie calm. 

My savior was ferocious and skilled, and every movement was calculated and brutal. Under the moonlight, their fur glinted like black ink, rippling with sheer power. Their claws slashed through the air, and their fangs gleamed in deadly arcs. 

The rogue fought back viciously, desperate to land a fatal blow, but the larger wolf was relentless. Their snarls were savage, each attack precise and devastating. Leaves and dirt flew around them in a whirlwind of violence. 

My breath came in short gasps as I watched the fierce battle, frozen in place. 

The rogue wolf let out a pained yelp as my savior delivered a final, brutal blow, sending it scrambling into the darkness, tail tucked between its legs. The sounds of its retreat faded into the night. Several wolves followed the rouge ready to catch him. 

Silence returned, broken only by my ragged breathing. 

The massive wolf stood there, panting heavily, its chest rising and falling. It turned its head toward me, dark eyes gleaming with a mixture of concern and authority. 

I should've felt relief. Gratitude. 

But instead, my heart sank. 

Because there was only one wolf in Silvermoon territory with that commanding presence. 

Kalix. 

And judging by the storm brewing in his eyes, I was in deep trouble.