Chapter Five: The Huntress

Talia loped into the shadows of the forest, her paws finding rhythm in the familiar cadence of home. The metallic tang of human scent faded behind her, replaced by the cold damp of pine and earth. She didn’t slow until the flicker of two shapes ahead told her she’d caught up to them.

Dedrick and Toddry.

They stopped when they sensed her fury rolling through the pack link—sharp, cold, and unmistakable.

“I was not in danger, and I told you not to come after me!” she snapped, her voice echoing cleanly in their minds. “I wanted to get close to him so I could figure out how to stop their stupid machines!”

Dedrick huffed aloud, hackles twitching. “Oh sure. You two looked mighty cozy when we came in. Plus, you know we can’t just leave you alone like that.”

Talia rolled her eyes, the motion human even in wolf form. “I’m the pack leader, for heaven’s sake. You think a mere human can overpower me?”

Toddry’s mental voice was nervous, higher-pitched. “And what if he shifts? If he gets backed into a corner and loses control, he might do some serious damage.”

“Oh, please.” Talia’s snort sent up a puff of white breath in the chill morning air. “Modern humans have no idea what they are anymore. The blood runs in their veins, yes—but they’ve buried it deep. Locked it away in the darkest corners of their minds and convinced themselves it was never real.”

Dedrick lowered his head, ears flicking. “Still, the stories say some of them wake up. The old instincts come clawing back.”

“Stories,” Talia said flatly. “You’ve been spending too much time around the pups.”

But even as she said it, the image of the man’s eyes flickered in her mind—deep, unnatural purple, the same hue as her own. A color she hadn’t seen since… no, that wasn’t possible.

She pushed the thought down, focusing on the trail ahead. The forest stretched wide and restless, whispering its discontent. She could feel it—the hum of wrongness in the soil where the humans had been cutting. They’d taken too much, carved deep into the earth without permission. The forest was angry.

Her mission had been simple: get close, assess their progress, and if necessary, stop them. Permanently.

But that was before him.

Before the man with the strange eyes and the steadier hands. Before he’d lifted her out of the mud, tended her wounds, spoken to her as if she were more than a beast.

“Alpha?” Toddry’s uncertain voice brushed against her thoughts. “You’re quiet.”

Talia slowed to a trot, her gaze catching on a ridge through the trees where the clearing opened. “Just thinking.”

Dedrick grumbled. “That’s never good.”

She ignored him, leaping over a fallen trunk and landing softly in the moss beyond. The forest was whispering again, that low murmur she’d learned to listen to since she was young. Tonight it carried warning. Movement. Change.

Something was stirring—and it wasn’t just her.

She came to a stop on a rise that overlooked the edge of the human worksite. In the dimming light, she could see the man again, standing with another worker. The black truck idled behind him, lights catching faint glints off his hair. He looked different in daylight—broad, careful, tired.

Talia’s chest tightened. The pull was still there, faint but undeniable, a tether she didn’t understand.

Why do I feel this? she thought, not meaning to send it through the link.

But Toddry caught it anyway. “Feel what?”

“Nothing,” she lied quickly.

Dedrick’s tone was heavy with warning. “Alpha… don’t tell me you’re starting to care about one of them.”

Talia’s hackles bristled. “Watch your tongue.”

“I mean it,” Dedrick pressed. “The Council won’t stand for that. If they find out—”

“They won’t.”

Silence fell over the link for a moment. The only sound was the wind rustling through the branches and the faint hum of the human machines down below.

Then, suddenly, a sharp noise—a distant metal clatter, followed by a low growl. Talia’s head snapped toward it, instincts flaring.

Down at the worksite, Dedrick and Toddry stiffened beside her, every sense alert. Two wolves—her wolves—were crouched in the trees, watching the man and his friend.

“No,” she growled aloud, voice a low warning rumble that made the other two flinch. “You will not engage.”

“Alpha, they’re too close to the clearing—” Toddry started, but she was already moving.

Talia lunged down the slope, her muscles coiled and powerful, earth kicking up beneath her paws. She didn’t think, didn’t plan—just moved, the tether in her chest pulling tight as a bowstring. The scent of him was stronger now, sharp and real, cutting through the forest air.

The other two wolves below had stepped out into the open, eyes gleaming. The man was staring at them, still as stone, but she could feel the hum in him—the faint, buried pulse of something ancient trying to wake.

She broke through the last line of trees, a red blurr cutting across the clearing.

Whatever happened next, the pack would see. 

And so would he.