A journey with her bickering mates

Eila stood at the doorstep of her home, her family gathered tightly around her, their faces a mixture of pride and deep concern. Her parents had been hesitant—more so this time—knowing full well where she was heading. The Hollowfang Glen wasn't just a distant, ominous name anymore. It was real, perilous, and Eila had already come too close to its dangers.

Her mother held her hand firmly. "Eila, I won't lie—this feels wrong. Going back there, when you know that man is watching you… that thing—Jeremy Soren."

"I'll be careful, I promise. I'm not going alone. The Pack is prepared, I'm not the only one bearing this burden," Eila reassured them, soft yet unwavering. She tried to ease their hearts with every word, though she knew no promise could truly remove the fear of losing her again.

It took her every ounce of patience and affection to coax their reluctant approval. She vowed to keep them updated through the mind-link whenever possible. Only then did her father, shoulders heavy with worry, finally nod his consent, pulling her into a firm embrace.

By the time they set off, the sun was still climbing, casting golden rays on the convoy of carriages and supplies snaking out of the pack grounds. Hollowfang Glen lay deep in the west, nestled against the shadowy outline of the Sunashi Mountains. A journey too burdensome for a full shift—especially with weapons, medical supplies, and provisions in tow. So they traveled by carriage, though a handful of warriors, including Lukas in his massive wolf form, had shifted to patrol ahead and ensure the road was clear.

Inside one of the carriages, Eila sat between Leonard and Zois, the gentle rocking of the wheels keeping a soft rhythm under their conversation. She kept her gaze on the changing landscape—dense forests, streams sparkling like ribbons of silver, then the rising silhouettes of distant mountains. The wild beauty of it all might have enthralled her under different circumstances. But her thoughts drifted to the Rift and the feeling of something waiting for her there.

As evening fell, Leonard signaled the convoy to halt near a shaded glade bordered by tall oaks. The air was cool, scented with pine and wild herbs. "We'll rest here for the night," Leonard announced, his Beta authority resonating clearly.

Zois sent word via mind-link to Lukas, who soon trotted back in his wolf form before shifting, his imposing figure rejoining them at the campsite.

The warriors worked efficiently, pitching tents and preparing a hearty meal that smelled far better than Eila had expected—spiced meats, roasted roots, and hot broth to ward off the night chill. She ate quickly with her mates, her appetite modest but steady.

When the last of the bowls were scraped clean, the warriors erected a modest tent for her—sturdy, with thick fabrics to guard against the cold and prying eyes. She was grateful, exhaustion starting to pull at her bones. Yet as she stepped inside, she couldn't ignore the growing sounds of her mates arguing just outside.

Leonard, Zois, and Lukas were engaged in a heated debate, their voices low but tense. She caught fragments of their quarrel—each insisting on keeping watch over her tent personally.

"We agreed I'd take first watch!" Zois barked.

"Neither of you has more right than me," Leonard's voice was cold and final.

Lukas growled, "You both can sit and sulk, but I'm not leaving her side."

Eila groaned into her hands. The bickering was endless and absurdly predictable. She stormed out of the tent flap, her glare sharp enough to silence all three of them.

"Enough!" she hissed, pointing at the nearest warrior. "You. Take guard at a distance."

The warrior blinked, then saluted smartly, relieved to escape the awkward tension.

"And you three—out. I need rest, not a petty squabble outside my tent."

Her mates exchanged sheepish glances but obeyed her with varying degrees of reluctance. Eila returned to her cot with a sigh of relief, the silence finally hers.

She lay back, eyes fluttering shut, muscles grateful for the respite. But even as sleep claimed her, a familiar sensation tingled along her skin—the telltale sign of a premonition stirring within her mind.

Darkness folded around her senses, and she knew:

A dream was coming. A warning.