The small, abandoned courtyard we had claimed for the night felt emptier than usual in the morning light. Broken stone walls and crumbling arches held the faint echoes of long-forgotten footsteps, but no warmth. Bagel’s absence pressed against me like a missing heartbeat, and the quiet made it worse.

  Grabber and Thorne were already moving, checking the perimeter and scanning the surrounding streets with practiced precision. Riven lingered near a cracked fountain, hands on his hips, eyes narrowing at every shadow that moved across the courtyard.

  I wrapped my arms tighter around myself, fighting the unease. I waited, silent, as Grabber, Thorne, and Riven bent over the small, tattered map from one of their packs.

  “We can’t stay here,” Grabber said, voice low, sharp. “Too exposed. Too many eyes, too many ways in. We need someplace defensible.”

  “We can’t go back to the castle - it's too predictable,” Riven replied.

  Thorne ran a hand through his hair, scowling. “There’s one option,” he said, voice clipped. “My pack. Strong borders, good vantage points, and it is hard to breach. We know it’s secure. We just need to get past the borders.”

  Riven’s eyes flicked between the two of them. “It’s a ways away from here, and we would risk gaining attention during the journey. But…” He let the sentence trail, leaving the judgment to Thorne.

  I hesitated, my stomach twisting. “The… pack?” I asked softly. I had no idea what that meant, only that it sounded dangerous.

  Thorne shot me a brief glance but didn’t elaborate. Grabber’s hand rested lightly on my shoulder. “For now, focus on keeping pace. We’ll explain more on the way,” he said calmly.

  “But what about Bagel?” I asked, panic creeping in. “She’s at the castle!”

  Grabber’s gaze hardened. “I’ll go back alone for her. You don’t leave the group, understand?”

  I shook my head immediately. “No. I’m not letting you face that alone.” My voice carried more insistence than I expected, and even I was surprised at my boldness.

  Thorne’s jaw tightened. “You’ll slow Soren down. You stay with Riven and me. We get you to safety first; that’s the priority.”

  Grabber didn’t even say goodbye. He just nodded once and lifted his pack, already heading toward the exit path from the courtyard.

  I bit my lip, frustration and fear mixing together. “Just… tell me where we’re going. At least enough that I can follow.”

  Thorne’s expression softened, just slightly. “We’re heading to my pack. Stay close, and no wandering off. We move fast and keep quiet, there’s nothing for you to worry about if you follow instructions.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from sighing, but I nodded anyways. The three of us fell into position. I kept pace silently, scanning every alley, every shadowed corner. I had no bearings, no knowledge of the terrain beyond what Thorne could tell me. And yet, for the first time since being thrust into all of this, I felt tethered. A part of something that might keep us alive.

  The city began to thin as we pressed on, the broken stone and narrow alleys slowly giving way to wider streets littered with rubble. The further we got from the courtyard, the more the silence pressed in, oppressive, unnatural, as if the world itself held its breath waiting for us to falter.

  Every so often, Thorne raised a hand to stop us. We froze where we stood, holding still until his sharp eyes scanned the shadows and rooftops. Sometimes there was nothing, just an empty window frame or the whisper of wind through a shattered door. Other times, I swore I caught the flicker of movement, a silhouette slipping out of sight, or the glint of eyes watching us from the dark.

  Each time, Thorne resumed walking without a word. I wanted to ask what he’d seen, but the hard line of his jaw silenced me.

  It wasn’t until we reached the outer stretch of the city, where tall walls of broken stone gave way to fields choked with overgrown grass, that Thorne finally spoke.

  “We’re close to the boundary roads,” he said. “Once we cross, we’ll need to move faster. The ground is open, and there’s less cover.”

  Riven glanced at me. “You’ll keep up?”

  “Yes,” I said quickly, though my legs ached and my throat felt raw from breathing hard. I didn’t want to be the weak link, not now, not when Bagel was still out there and Grabber was risking everything to bring her back.

  We slipped into the tall grass, the city at our backs, the fields stretching ahead. I felt strangely exposed, the buildings had been dangerous, yes, but their walls had also been shelter. Out here, with only grass and sky, I felt like a single spark waiting to be snuffed out.

  The grass swayed against my legs as we moved. My thoughts drifted again to Grabber, wondering if he’d reached the castle yet, wondering if Bagel had even survived the night alone.

  “Stop,” Thorne hissed suddenly, dropping low.

  Riven mirrored him instantly, pulling me down by the arm before I even knew what was happening. My knees hit the dirt, and my pulse spiked.

  Through the shifting grass ahead, I saw them, three figures, moving carefully, deliberately, just at the edge of sight. Their silhouettes were too rigid, too measured to be wanderers. Soldiers.

  They hadn’t seen us yet, but they were heading straight for the road that cut across the field, the very one Thorne said we needed to cross.

  Riven’s lips brushed close to my ear. “We wait them out. Don’t move.”

  The three of us crouched in the dirt, surrounded by grass high enough to cover our forms if we kept still. My breath slowed, shallow and careful. Each second stretched like an eternity as the soldiers’ boots crunched against the hard earth of the road.

  Closer. Closer.

  The faint jingle of chainmail reached my ears. My nails dug into the dirt. One of them paused, glancing into the grass, and my chest clenched so tightly I thought I might faint.

  But then a distant horn blew, sharp, urgent. The soldier’s head snapped toward the sound, and the three of them quickened their pace, disappearing down the road toward the city we’d left behind.

  Only when their footsteps had faded completely did I let out the breath I’d been holding. My lungs ached, and I trembled with the release of fear.

  “Good,” Thorne murmured, his voice steady, controlled. “Now we move.”

  We crossed the road quickly, hearts still pounding.

  Hours later, as the sun dipped toward the horizon, we found a small rise of trees that broke the monotony of the grassland. Thorne signaled us to stop. “We’ll camp here. We need the cover, and we’ve pushed hard enough for one day.”

  I almost collapsed against the roots of a tree, my legs burning from the relentless pace. Riven dropped beside me, pulling off his pack with a groan. “See?” he said with a sideways smile. “Not helpless at all.”

  I managed a weak glare. “I didn’t say I was helpless.”

  “No,” Riven replied, leaning back against the trunk, “but you thought it.”

  Thorne dropped his pack more carefully, scanning the perimeter before sitting down across from us. He didn’t smile, but there was something softer in his gaze than before. “You did well. You didn’t panic.”

  I swallowed, not sure if it was pride or relief that made my chest tighten. “I thought I was going to.”

  “You didn’t,” Thorne said simply, as if that was all that mattered.

  The quiet settled again, thicker this time, filled with the ache of exhaustion. I leaned back, staring at the canopy of leaves above, and whispered to myself, “Please let Grabber be okay.”

  Riven turned his head toward me, his smile fading. “He will be. He’s not the kind to break.”

  I wanted to believe him. I wanted to let the warmth of his certainty seep into me, but doubt clung tight.

  That night, when we lay down on the hard earth beneath the trees, I found myself between them, Riven already snoring softly on one side, Thorne stiff and watchful on the other. My body ached, but when Thorne’s arm brushed lightly against mine, I didn’t pull away. For the first time that day, I felt safe enough to close my eyes.

  The night pressed close around us, the wind rustling through the trees like whispers I couldn’t quite catch. Our small fire was nothing more than embers, muted enough not to draw attention but warm enough to stave off the bite of the chill.

  Riven had fallen asleep almost as soon as he lay down, his breathing steady, the rise and fall of his chest rhythmic and soothing in its constancy. I envied him, the way he could shut his eyes and let the world fall away.

  But sleep refused to claim me. My body was still wired, every nerve humming with the memory of soldiers’ boots, of Bagel’s absence, of Grabber’s silence somewhere far behind us.

  I rolled slightly, my shoulder brushing against Thorne’s arm again. He sat upright still, back against the tree, his face carved from shadow and moonlight. He hadn’t closed his eyes once since we’d stopped.

  “You’re not sleeping?” I asked softly, my voice barely louder than the wind.

  “Not yet,” he murmured. His gaze swept the darkness beyond the treeline before flicking to me. “Someone has to keep watch.”

  “Do you ever sleep?”

  His mouth curved, the faintest ghost of a smile. “Rarely.”

  I let the quiet linger between us. The heat of Riven’s body radiated on one side, the steadiness of Thorne’s presence anchoring me on the other. For the first time since everything began, I realized how strange it was, how lucky, to have these two walls around me, keeping me from shattering completely.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Thorne?” My voice broke the silence again.

  He hummed low in his throat, not quite a word.

  “Back there… when you said your pack. That sounded like…” I hesitated, unsure if I wanted the answer. “…like more than just a group.”

  His eyes caught the faint gleam of firelight. “It is.” He didn’t elaborate, just let the weight of those two words hang between us.

  I shivered, not from cold.

  “You don’t have to be afraid,” he added after a pause. His voice was softer now, stripped of its usual command. “Not of me.”

  Something in me twisted at that, a knot I hadn’t realized I’d been holding tight. “I don’t know how to stop being afraid,” I admitted, my voice cracking on the truth. “Of all of this. Of losing more. Of -” My throat closed on the last word, and I turned my face down toward the dirt.

  Thorne shifted then, a hand brushing lightly against my wrist. He didn’t grip, didn’t pull, just touched, enough to ground me. “Fear keeps you sharp,” he said quietly. “But it doesn’t define you. Don’t let it.”

  The simple certainty in his tone made my chest ache. I turned toward him, searching his face in the half-light, and for once there was no steel, no scowl. Just… Thorne.

  Before I could think better of it, I whispered, “You’re different when it’s just us.”

  He studied me for a long moment, the firelight flickering across his face. “So are you,” he said at last, almost reluctantly.

  I gave a soft, nervous laugh. “Different how?”

  His eyes held mine, steady and unguarded. “More honest. ” He hesitated, then added even softer, “I like you this way.”

  Something in my chest tightened, heat rushing through me. “And you,” I murmured, “you’re not so impossible when no one’s watching.”

  That drew the faintest twitch of a smile from him, quick and fleeting. “Don’t tell the others. It would ruin my reputation.”

  The air between us shifted, charged, as though the whole forest held its breath. My heart pounded, not with fear this time but with something I didn’t want to name.

  “Thank you for earlier. For fighting to protect me.” I whispered to him.

  And then, as if pulled by the gravity of it, I leaned closer. Just enough that the world blurred, until his breath was warm against my lips.

  He didn’t move away.

  When his mouth finally met mine, it wasn’t hungry or claiming, it was cautious, questioning, as though he wasn’t sure if he was allowed. The gentleness of it unraveled me more than force ever could.

  It was over almost as quickly as it began, a brush of warmth and unspoken things.

  I pulled back first, breath uneven. “I… I should sleep.”

  Thorne’s eyes lingered on me, but his voice was steady. “Rest. I’ll keep watch.”

  I turned back onto my side, my heart racing too fast for sleep, my lips still tingling from his. But eventually, with Riven’s even breaths on one side and Thorne’s silent vigil on the other, exhaustion dragged me under.

  · ─ ·?· ─ · ·

  I don’t remember falling asleep. One moment I was lying awake, pulse still thundering from the kiss, listening to Thorne’s steady breathing beside me, and the next the morning light was spilling through the branches above.

  Riven was already up, crouched near the firepit where the embers still smoldered faintly. He glanced over as I stirred, and a sly grin tugged at his mouth. “Up late, were we?”

  Thorne was fastening the last strap of his pack when his eyes met mine. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. Then, subtle and quick, he winked at me.

  The heat rose to my face so fast I was grateful for the cool morning air. My lips parted, a protest or a laugh on the tip of my tongue, but nothing came out.

  He only shouldered his pack with practiced ease, the faintest curve to his mouth as though he was enjoying my fluster far more than he’d ever admit aloud.

  “We should get moving,” I managed at last, brushing leaves from my clothes.

  “Right,” Riven said easily, slinging his bow across his shoulder. “The sooner we reach the borders, the better.”

  Thorne gave a nod, tone calm but steady. “We going into the forest. If we head North-East at a good pace, we should be able to hit the edge of the pack before nightfall.”

  And just like that, the rhythm of the road took us again. The forest was quieter in the daylight, but every snapping twig still made my shoulders stiffen. I tried to focus on the crunch of leaves beneath our boots, the steady pace they set, the way the sunlight filtered through the canopy in golden slants. But every so often, my gaze betrayed me, sliding to Thorne, to the memory of his wink, to the dangerous warmth curling in my chest whenever I let myself think too long about him.

  · ─ ·?· ─ · ·

  The first stretch of the day passed in silence, broken only by the sound of boots crunching on damp leaves and the distant call of crows. My thoughts wandered between Bagel, Grabber, and the memory of last night, until it became unbearable not to say something.

  “You know,” I muttered, glancing between the two men, “for people supposedly keeping me safe, you walk like you’re trying to scare the entire forest away. Ever heard of stepping lightly?”

  Riven gave me a side-eye, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Ever tried walking all day in armor and boots? Stealth isn’t exactly easy.”

  “Mm, I don’t know,” I teased, pretending to inspect his long stride. “Maybe you just enjoy announcing yourself.”

  Thorne’s low chuckle surprised me. “He does. Makes him feel taller.”

  Riven scoffed, but there was no heat behind it. “Says the one who takes up half the path without even trying.”

  I hid a smile, grateful for the easy exchange, even if it was fleeting. For a little while, the weight pressing down on us felt lighter, the world less dangerous.

  But the reprieve didn’t last. My gaze flicked to Thorne, remembering his words from the courtyard. My pack. The word gnawed at me. Finally, I couldn’t hold it back any longer.

  “What exactly does that word mean?” I asked carefully. “Your… pack?”

  Both men went still, as though the trees themselves had tightened around us. Thorne didn’t answer right away, his eyes fixed ahead on the trail.

  “It means safety,” he said at last, voice clipped.

  “That’s not an explanation,” I pressed, quickening my step to keep pace with him. “What even is a pack? What does that mean?”

  Thorne’s shoulders tensed. He glanced briefly between Riven and me before looking forward again.

  “It means family,” he said finally. “Not by blood, not always, but by bond. By oath. We live together, fight together, bleed together. The territory is ours, every inch of it defended, and every wolf in it will answer the call if danger comes. I’m their leader, and they will follow my word like law.”

  The word wolf sent a shiver through me. “So it’s… more than just people living side by side.”

  “It’s everything,” Thorne replied. His voice carried a quiet certainty, as though it was not up for debate. “A pack is loyalty. It’s survival. Alone, you’re prey. Together, you’re stronger than anything that comes.”

  I tilted my head, chewing on his words. “When you say pack… you don’t just mean people, do you? You mean, wolves. Wolf people?”

  Thorne’s eyes flicked toward me, sharp, measuring, before returning to the path.

  “Are you… shifters?” I asked, my voice low, hesitant. “Like the kind I’ve read about in old stories? People who turn into wolves?”

  Neither man answered right away. The silence stretched long enough that I wondered if I’d gone too far. Finally, Riven let out a short breath, almost a laugh but not quite.

  “You really have lived isolated, haven’t you?” he said, glancing at me sidelong. “Stories don’t get it all wrong, nor do they get it all right.”

  My stomach flipped. “So it’s true.”

  Thorne’s jaw ticked, but his voice was steady when he finally said, “It’s not a story for campfire tales. It’s what we are.”

  I frowned slightly, trying to picture it. “And they’ll accept me? Just like that? They won’t just eat me?”

  This time, Riven spoke, his tone softer than usual. “They’ll accept you because you’ll be with him.” He tilted his chin toward Thorne. “And the only one who you need to worry about eating you is walking right beside you.”

  I blushed, and Thorne didn’t confirm or deny it. His silence was answer enough.

  The unease in my stomach twisted into sharper curiosity. “Has there ever been… anyone else like me before?”

  That was when both men grew quiet again, their footsteps suddenly heavy against the forest floor.

  “There was… once, many years ago, another girl like you.”

  My breath caught. “Like me?”

  He nodded, eyes fixed on the ground. “Unmarked. Everyone thought it was impossible, but there she was. Young. Scared. She didn’t last.”

  “What happened to her?” I whispered.

  Thorne’s expression hardened, though not unkindly. “Word got around fast. She had no one in her corner, no one to shield her. Men tried to claim her, one after another, forcing their marks. But the marks weren’t compatible. The power clashed and turned her body into a battlefield. By the time anyone noticed what was happening, it was too late. She was withering away, and all they could do was watch her die.”

  The weight of his words pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating. My throat tightened. “So you think that’s what’s going to happen to me?”

  “No,” Thorne said immediately, firmly. His eyes locked on mine, fierce. “Not while we’re breathing.”

  I didn’t know whether to be reassured or terrified by the steel in his voice.

  For a while, the only sound was the crunch of our boots on the forest floor, the rustle of branches overhead. Riven glanced back once, his face unreadable in the dim light, but he said nothing.

  Finally, I drew in a shaky breath. “So what happens… when we reach your pack? What will they see me as?”

  Thorne’s gaze softened a fraction. “They’ll see you as mine to protect. Ours. And that will be enough.”

  Heat flared in my cheeks at the weight of that word, ours. My chest squeezed tight, torn between indignation and something far more confusing. I huffed, crossing my arms. “You all talk like I’m some kind of parcel being passed around.”

  Riven’s lips twitched, as if he was holding back a smirk, while Thorne’s brows lifted in faint amusement. Neither answered, and the silence only made my blush deepen.

  I turned away, pretending to focus on the path ahead, though my ears burned. The woods pressed closer the farther we went, the canopy overhead thickening until the daylight turned dappled and dim. Moss crept over stones, and roots wound across the path, making me watch each step carefully.

  The air smelled sharper here, like pine and damp earth, and I felt a strange thrum beneath it all, as though the forest itself were aware of us passing through. Thorne’s shoulders straightened the closer we drew, his stride purposeful, while Riven’s eyes never stopped scanning the trees.

  “We’re almost there,” Thorne murmured after a long stretch of silence. His voice was low, but I caught the edge of certainty in it, the way someone might sound when nearing home.

  · ─ ·?· ─ · ·

  Time blurred as we pressed deeper into the woods. Another hour passed, marked only by the rhythm of boots against earth and the rasp of breath in my lungs. My legs ached, though I forced myself not to complain. The forest grew denser, the air cooler, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that invisible eyes followed us between the trees.

  I glanced at Thorne. His jaw was set, his focus unshakable. He walked as if he knew every stone, every shadow, like the forest belonged to him. Riven, on the other hand, seemed to walk for both of us, one step ahead, always watching, his hand brushing the hilt of his blade whenever the underbrush rustled.

  The silence stretched until I couldn’t bear it anymore. “Where are Soren and Bagel?” I asked quietly. “Do you think they’ve…?” My throat closed before I could finish the thought.

  Thorne didn’t break stride. “If anyone can get her undetected, it’s him. He knows the castle and the surrounding area better than anyone else. You’ll see them again.”

  Riven shot me a sidelong glance. “He won’t stop until she’s with us. That much I’d bet my life on.”

  The certainty in their voices should have calmed me, but my stomach still twisted tight. I wrapped my arms around myself, pretending it was only the evening chill.

  We walked until the trees suddenly thinned, the path widening into a clearing. The air changed first, thicker, humming with something wild. I slowed, my heart hammering as though it already knew before my eyes caught up.

  Ahead, across the rise of the clearing, shadows moved. Not men. Not quite animals either. My breath caught in my throat. Massive shapes paced at the edges of the trees, their eyes glinting in the dim light, some crouched low, others standing tall on four legs that looked far too powerful to mistake for dogs.

  Wolves.

  Dozens of them.

  A chorus of low growls rippled through the air, vibrating in my bones. My steps faltered.

  Thorne glanced back at me once, his expression unreadable. “We’re here,” he said simply. The words hung heavy between us as the wolves closed in, their eyes locked on me.

  And just like that, the clearing no longer felt like a safe haven at all.

  Authors note

  Thank you for reading! Please vote :) Updates will be posted on Fridays.

  This book is complete on my Patreon!! Subscribe to my Patreon to read ahead: