CHAPTER SEVEN: Sophie’s POV — Where Loyalty Begins to Look Like Love

Something warm tickled the side of my face.

I groaned softly and stretched, the stiffness in my bones reminding me I'd slept on uneven forest ground. I blinked against the early morning light streaming through the trees.

And froze.

Golden eyes.

He was awake.

The gray wolf lay curled a few feet away, his eyes locked on mine—calm, alert, and focused like he hadn't closed them all night. For a moment, we just stared at each other in silence.

"Good morning…" I mumbled, yawning.

I sat up slowly and rubbed my eyes, then crawled toward him to check his wound. My heart lifted—it had started to close. The edges were no longer angry or swollen. The herbs had worked.

"You're healing," I said softly, brushing my fingers over the edge of the bandage. "Told you I was good."

And then—my stomach growled.

Loudly.

I froze in embarrassment.

The wolf tilted his head, ears twitching. I sighed and gave a sheepish laugh, clutching my belly.

"Yeah, I know. Not exactly the most flattering sound, right? I didn't get to eat anything last night. Kind of hard to feel hungry when you're almost eaten yourself."

I leaned back and groaned again as the rumbling in my stomach grew louder.

The wolf stood slowly and walked over to me.

Then… he nudged me.

With his snout.

I blinked. "Huh?"

He nudged me again, this time firmer, like he was trying to say something.

I raised a brow. "Are you trying to play?"

He stepped back, picked up my worn-out backpack with his teeth, and dropped it at my feet.

I stared.

"Wait, are you serious right now?" I laughed. "There's nothing in there. I finished everything—no food, not even water. Just herbs, bandages, and… broken dreams."

I expected him to settle down again. Instead, he turned away and stared toward a narrow path veiled in mist.

Then he looked back at me.

And nudged me again.

I furrowed my brows. "What… are you trying to tell me something?"

He nudged me harder.

I stood up slowly. He took a few steps forward, looked over his shoulder, then kept walking.

I hesitated… then followed.

I didn't know how long we walked—maybe fifteen minutes, maybe more—but I started hearing it before I saw it.

Water.

Running, babbling, gliding over smooth stones.

We broke through a patch of thick vines, and my heart nearly exploded.

A stream.

Clear. Shimmering. Glorious.

"Oh… my… stars!" I shouted, practically running toward it. I dropped to my knees and scooped water into my mouth like a child. I didn't care if it was clean. I didn't care if it was sacred or cursed. I was thirsty, and it tasted like life.

I let out a breathless laugh and splashed my face, then spun around toward the wolf, who had sat beside the stream, watching me

Without thinking, I ran up to him and threw my arms around his thick, furred neck.

"Thank you!" I squealed, laughing into his shoulder. "You actual, magical, perfect creature!"

The wolf huffed, and I could almost feel him roll his eyes.

I grinned. "Okay, now I know you're not normal."

I pulled back, beaming.

"I need a bath."

He blinked.

"I mean, seriously. I stink."

Without waiting for a sign of approval, I started pulling off my clothes.

At that moment, the wolf made a low sound—like a startled cough—and padded away, turning his back like some gentleman in fur.

I paused, blinking. "Wait… are you giving me privacy?"

He didn't look back.

I smirked. "Weird. But… thanks."

The stream was cold but refreshing. I dunked my head under, scrubbing dirt from my hair and skin. It felt like I was washing away more than just sweat—like I was rinsing off fear.

Afterwards, I cleaned my clothes with the little water-safe herbs I had, spread them on the grass, and wrapped my blanket around myself.

I sat, letting the sun warm my face. And that's when I noticed…

He was gone.

My heart dropped into my stomach.

I stood up, wrapping the blanket tighter, and spun in a slow circle.

"Gray?" I called softly. "Where did you go?"

Nothing.

My chest tightened.

He left.

He really left.

Fear began crawling up my spine, memories of the rogue wolves flooding back like poison. I was alone. Again. And worse—I had started to believe I wasn't.

I sat near my drying clothes, arms wrapped around my knees.

"You idiot," I whispered to myself. "You thought the gods sent you help. That maybe… someone heard your prayer."

I buried my face into my arms, stomach rumbling again.

I was tired. Cold. Hungry. Lost.

And stupidly… heartbreakingly…

Disappointed.

Then I heard it.

Rustling.

Fast, sharp footsteps in the underbrush. I leapt to my feet, grabbing my small blade.

I raised it. "Who's there?!"

The bushes parted—

And there he was.

The gray wolf.

In his jaws were two limp, freshly killed rabbits.

My blade fell to the ground.

"You… you left to hunt?" I whispered.

He padded forward and dropped the rabbits at my feet.

My jaw fell open.

"You knew I was hungry," I breathed.

He sat down, cool and casual like this was normal.

Like we'd done this a hundred times before.

I stared at him, a little in awe. "You're not just loyal. You… care."

My voice caught in my throat.

I took the rabbits, wiped my eyes quickly, and got to work. I grew up in Windhollow—I knew how to skin, roast, and cook over a flame. I gathered dry sticks, struck two flint stones, and soon had fire dancing before me.

One rabbit I roasted for him. The other for me.

I whispered thanks to the gods… and to him.

We ate in silence. Just the two of us, fire between us.

When I finished, I stored the leftovers in my satchel, dressed in my now-dried clothes, and packed my things.

The wolf stood.

I looked at him, then at the path ahead. Deep, dark, unknown.

"Okay," I said, shouldering my pack. "Let's find the Miracle Leaf."

He walked beside me, silent as always.

But I could feel it in my gut now. Every time he looked at me. Every time he nudged me forward. Every time he waited for me to catch up.

There's more to him than just loyalty.

And I was finally starting to wonder…

What are you, really?