Wrong Place, Wrong Time.

Winter's POV:

You know what?

Screw them.

Screw this pack.

I walk–more like stomp my way through the gardens to the path no one follows or goes by.

I want to be left alone.

I don't stop until even with my abilities the sound of their murmurs have faded away completely. The only thing I can hear is the gentle sway of the trees and some birds chirping a few feet away. Sabrina says people avoid this place because it was the path the defeated soldiers would crawl through to get into the palace for shelter.

In short, it reminds them of death.

Of a war they almost lost.

To “my kind.”

It's better this way anyways. It has a kind of quiet that makes you look over your shoulder every 30 seconds, and the overgrown hedges and skyscraper-like trees only give the place an even creepier vibes.

I hug my arms to myself as a cool breeze passes, irritation simmering under my skin. Two weeks in this pack house and I already know who tolerates me and who doesn’t. Sabrina, Rowan. Keon—whether he’ll admit it or not. Derrick, when he’s actually here.

That’s it.

Everyone else looks at me like I have some disease they don't want to catch. It's not like I didn't expect this when I got sent here as payment. Witches and Wolves have been mortal enemies since before my father was even a high wizard. The hate is mutual to be honest. All witches hate wolves. All wolves hate witches.

That's just how it has been. How it will always be.

“Whatever,” I mutter, kicking a small stone off the path. “I don’t need them anyway.”

The words don’t feel as convincing out loud.

But the little time I've spent here makes me think some wolves aren't all that bad. Rowan is funny. Sabrina is cool. Derrick was sweet, at least so far. Keon…

Was there a word I could use to describe him?

Strong?

Arrogant?

Caring?

He was something, that was for sure.

I'm so far in I don't notice the shift in the air.

It’s subtle, like the pressure before a storm. My skin prickles. Magic hums low in my chest, uneasy. I stop walking.

“Hello?” My voice sounds stupid out here, swallowed by leaves and branches.

No answer.

I turn around.

The path behind me looks the same.

Empty. Quiet.

And I look insane.

Just like I did with Keon.

But I could've sworn that day what I saw was real.

Now however…

I'm unsure.

I hiss under my breath.

I keep walking, and everything seems to be okay until I hear something rustle behind me.

“Whoever that is. If you think you're funny you're not.”

Silence. Again.

Then a voice speaks from somewhere close—too close.

“You have something that doesn’t belong to you.”

My heart slams against my ribs.

“What?” I spin, scanning the trees. “Who’s there?”

A shape moves behind the grass. Not stepping out fully, not hiding either. I feel it more than I see it. My insight screams.

Fight!

Don't let it hurt you!

“I don’t have anything of yours,” I say, even though my hands are already glowing faintly.

“You’ve got the wrong person.”

A low laugh answers me.

“You always say that.”

Before I can react, a force slams into me so hard I fall into the overgrown hedges. My body vibrates with pain.

I use my magic to create a shield that allows me to hit but still be protected. I aim for the crucial points of any creature. Head, neck, abdomen, hands and feet.

My attacks hit. Then go through the creature like it's nothing. Before I can recover I get slammed into the ground. My head explodes in pain. I flip us and try to get a hit with my fists when I'm thrown backwards. The creature screeches.

The sound makes my ears bleed.

It suddenly picks up speed, moving nearly as fast as light. My attacks miss. Then, the creature does something that makes me scream.

It bites me.

It stings. Like a lot.

It's like fire is passing through my veins.

I scream so loud I'm surprised no one shows up.

I try to move my hands but nothing works.

I've been paralyzed.

Shit.

Realisation hits as everything blurs for a second. Whatever this is. It's stronger than me. It feels older, ancient somehow.

I throw my power forward anyway, pure reflex.

Sparks snap in the air.

It does nothing.

Panic curls in my chest. I scream.

I try again, pushing harder this time, teeth clenched, arms burning. The magic resists me like stone. Like I’m throwing myself at a wall and expecting it to move.

It rams me face first into the grass.“You really don't know. What a shame.”

“Stop,” I gasp as it digs my face into the ground with its feet. “Please—”

The force tightens. My knees ache the ground. My breath comes out wrong, shallow and fast.

This isn’t a wolf.

I know that much.

And it's completely immune to my attacks.

Fuck.

My vision blurs at the edges. The garden tilts. I feel cold, even though the air is warm. Somewhere deep inside me, something pulls, sharp and sudden, like a thread being yanked tight.

Until.

Something appears in the air.

I see it.

Above me. In the air. Clear and impossible to miss.

A golden eye.

The same from the room two weeks ago.

Watching.

Watching me.

I knew I wasn't imagining things!

The pressure snaps away suddenly like it was never there. The magic holding me shatters.

I suck in a breath so hard it hurts.

The eye turns to the beast.

The figure screams as it flies backward, into a tree. Its form fractures on impact, dissolving into ash and shadow.

The eye doesn’t move.

It just watches.

It turns back to me.

My eyes suddenly feel heavy. My strength gives out all at once. The ground rushes up to meet me as darkness closes in, the last thing I feel being the strange certainty that I didn’t survive this on my own.

I didn’t imagine it.

And whatever it is…

It knows me.