Chapter 5

Lilith stared at him, stunned.

The forest around them had gone eerily quiet, the distant chatter of birds and the hum of insects swallowed by the weight of Nathan’s confession. She could still hear his words echoing in her head — a far… Wendigo… sealed away… banished.

For a moment, she forgot to breathe.

“So… you’ve been hiding this your whole life,” she finally managed, her voice quieter than she intended. Her mind was racing, connecting dots that had been blurry just hours ago. “You’re… half Wendigo. Like me.” Nathan’s crimson eyes softened, though they still held that predator’s edge. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Though I wasn’t sure about you… Not until I caught your scent the other day. It’s faint, but it’s there.” His gaze roamed over her, sharp but curious. “My blood is changing you, haven’t it?”

Lilith’s mouth went dry. Her fingers subconsciously hovered near the back of her neck where the strange markings had bloomed weeks ago — jagged, branching lines like frostbite and scars. She’d chalked them up to her werewolf side going haywire… but now?

“I… I didn’t even know what I was,” she whispered. “But you did.” Her eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping in. “You’ve been watching me.”

Nathan shrugged, unapologetic. “Of course I have. You’re the first one I’ve ever given my blood to — I had to know what you were.” His lips curled slightly, but there was no malice in it. “Besides… It’s not safe. For people like us.”

Lilith’s stomach twisted. “Because of the hunters?” Nathan nodded, the faintest flicker of bitterness crossing his face. “Hunters. Other packs. Wendigos don’t exactly have a fan club, Lilith. You read the books — people think we’re monsters.”

“Aren’t we?” The question slipped from her lips before she could stop it, quiet and raw.

Nathan’s expression darkened, but there was something vulnerable under it. “Depends on who you ask,” he said. “But I’ll tell you this…” He stepped closer, voice dropping low. “The hunger? The cravings? They get worse. They will get worse. And if you don’t have someone to help you… They’ll consume you.”

Lilith’s heart thudded painfully. For a moment, she saw not just the confident, powerful alpha, but the lonely boy, cursed by his bloodline, chased from his pack, living with a secret he couldn’t outrun.

“Why tell me all this?” she asked quietly. “Why not just leave me to figure it out on my own?”

Nathan tilted his head, eyes gleaming faintly crimson under the shade of the trees. “Because no one helped me.” His voice hardened, threaded with old wounds. “And because like it or not… you’re mine now. Our kind? We stick together… or we die alone.”

Lilith swallowed hard. Part of her rebelled at the possessiveness in his tone… but another part, the part that had woken in her when her markings appeared, when the hunger stirred — that part understood.

“Okay,” she said finally, voice steadying. “Show me. Teach me how to survive this.”

A slow smile crept onto Nathan’s lips, sharp as a wolf’s grin.

“Good girl.”

Nathan’s sharp grin faded as his crimson eyes scanned the darkening woods. The last rays of the sun filtered through the branches, casting jagged shadows across the forest floor.

“We don’t have much time,” he said. “Nightfall’s when the hunters move. You’ve heard of them… but I doubt you’ve seen what they do.”

Lilith’s stomach tightened. “You mean like—silver bullets and wooden stakes?”

Nathan huffed out a humorless laugh. “If only. That’s for rookies. Real hunters?” His gaze flicked toward the treeline. “They use Anasazi symbols, wolfsbane, silver-tipped arrows… and fire. Especially for us.” His voice dropped lower. “Fire’s the only thing that works on a Wendigo.”

“You’re saying… they know there’s one of us here?” she asked.

Nathan gave a short nod. “More than one, now.”

Lilith’s pulse quickened. The weight of his meaning pressed down on her. “Me.”

“You smell different now. To them, it’s like ringing the dinner bell.” For a moment, neither of them spoke. The woods pressed in — alive with the distant rustle of leaves and faint, eerie echoes that could have been birds… or something else entirely.

Finally, Nathan turned, his jaw set with quiet resolve. “Come on. If you want to survive — and stay you — we train.”

They moved deeper into the forest, to a clearing scorched with old fire pits and charred logs. The ground bore faded symbols — circles and jagged patterns etched into the soil with white ash. Nathan’s expression darkened at the sight.

“Old warding marks,” he explained. “Hunters probably used this place once.” He kicked at the ashes. “We’ll use it now.”

Lilith watched as Nathan peeled off his hoodie, exposing the jagged, frostbite-like markings across his back and arms, almost identical to hers. Except his glowed faintly in the twilight, like ghostly scars pulsing with hidden energy. “First lesson,” Nathan said, cracking his neck. “Control. You’re stronger than you think… but the hunger makes it wild. We’re not just werewolves. We’re predators with no leash.” His eyes flicked to hers. “Lose focus? You’ll rip someone’s throat out before you even notice.”

Lilith swallowed, her claws itching beneath her skin at just the thought of losing control. “How… how do you stop it?”

Nathan’s lips twitched with faint amusement. “You don’t. You channel it.”

He lunged without warning. Lilith barely had time to react — her body moved on instinct, shifting partially, claws extending as she ducked under his strike. The force of his attack sent leaves scattering, his grin feral as he pivoted and came at her again.

The fight was fast, brutal — claws clashing, teeth bared, but Nathan never aimed to hurt her seriously. Every move was a lesson. Her muscles burned. Her breath came in short bursts. But beneath it all… the hunger stirred.

She could feel it… that dark, gnawing thing inside her chest, coiled like a serpent. It whispered to her — Take him down. Tear into him. Feed.

Lilith staggered back, panting, shaking her head. “I—I can’t…”

“You can,” Nathan growled, closing the space between them. His eyes glowed crimson again. “The hunger is part of you. You fight it — you lose. Do you use it? You win.”

Her vision blurred. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She let go — not all the way, but enough. Enough to let the sharpness flood her veins, the instinct sharpened her movements.

She struck, fast and precise, knocking Nathan off balance. For a heartbeat, she saw approval flicker across his face, right before the wind shifted. Both of them froze. A new scent cut through the clearing — acrid smoke… burning wood… and something worse. Human. Nathan’s eyes narrowed. “Too late,” he muttered. “We’ve got company.”