Chapter 7: Price of Survival

"Who are you?" My voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.

I was still catching my breath, my body filled with leftover adrenaline. The forest felt too quiet now, the absence of snarls almost unsettling.

The stranger didn't answer right away. His chest rose and fell with slow, measured breaths, as if deciding how much to say. Then, finally.

"Someone who's just saved your life. Twice."

I frowned. "And you expect me to be grateful?"

His gaze flicked to my arm the one I was still clutching, the spot where he'd touched me before.

"I expect you to listen," he said. "Because that mark on you? It's not just a scent they can track. It's a claim. And if you don't want to end up in chains, you need to understand what that means."

The word chains sent a cold shiver down my spine.

"I didn't ask for this," I muttered.

"Doesn't matter," he said simply. "You're marked. That means you belong to someone now."

I stiffened.

"Belong?" My voice sharpened. "I don't belong to anyone."

He sighed, running a hand down his face. "Look, I don't have time to argue with you about it. I know who these wolves are. I know what they do. And if they marked you, it means they want you alive. That's worse than dead."

My throat tightened.

I wasn't sure if it was the exhaustion or the fact that everything was happening too fast, but I felt something inside me splintering.

All I had done was try to survive. Why was that never enough?

I exhaled sharply. "Fine. Then tell me what I need to do."

His expression shifted like he hadn't expected me to give in so quickly.

"First?" He took a step closer, lowering his voice. "You stop running without a plan. Running blindly gets you caught."

I clenched my jaw. "So what's the plan, then?"

He hesitated for a second before glancing at the darkened treetops.

"We move," he said. "Before more of them find us."

I had a thousand questions. Who he was. Why he was even helping me. What he meant when he said they wanted me alive.

But survival came first.

I gave a stiff nod. "Lead the way."

We moved in silence.

The forest stretched endlessly around us, each step making me hyper-aware of every sound. I didn't trust him I didn't trust anyone but right now, I had no choice.

Still, I studied him. The way he walked, always alert. The way his muscles tensed at the faintest sound. A fighter. A survivor.

And yet, there was something off about him.

"You never told me your name," I said after a while.

He glanced at me, but there was something unreadable in his expression.

"You never asked."

I scowled. "I'm asking now."

A pause. Then....

"Ronan."

Just Ronan.

It fit. Short, sharp, no nonsense.

I nodded. "Elara."

His lips twitched not quite a smile, but close. "I know."

I frowned. "How?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he stopped abruptly, his gaze snapping to the left.

I felt it too.

Something was watching us.

I froze, my pulse spiking. The undergrowth was still, the air thick with tension. But that only meant one thing it wasn't human.

Ronan exhaled through his nose. "We're not alone."

My fingers instinctively reached for the small dagger at my waist.

But before I could react, the shadows shifted

And a figure stepped out.

I didn't breathe.

This wasn't a werewolf.

It was worse.

My chest tightened. I knew those piercing silver eyes, the chilling presence that seemed to seep into the very air around him.

This wasn't just any enemy.

This was the Alpha.