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Chapter Six: The Call Beneath His Skin
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2025-11-11 19:00:07Sleep was not coming tonight.
Atticus lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, his arms folded behind his head. The hum of the night was alive beyond the walls of his cabin—crickets chirping, wind whispering through pine needles, the distant creak of the forest shifting in its ancient sleep. Normally, those sounds soothed him. Tonight, they felt louder. Closer.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw flashes of the clearing: the wolves circling, the violet-eyed one standing be
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The woods were whispering again.Atticus leaned against the doorframe of theon-siteTrailor,gazefixed on thetreelineas twilight melted into night. The air was heavy, thick with the smell of pine sap and damp earth. Beyond the horizon, the moon began to climb—full, fat, silver. Its first light bled through the branches like spilled milk.He should’ve gone home hours ago. The men had left, the equipment was
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Talia paced in front of the hearth, her boots clicking softly against the old wooden floors of the pack house. Firelight flickered across her features, painting her in amber and shadow. Her arms were folded neatly behind her back—an old habit from her father, one that helped her think even when her thoughts were too sharp to touch.The flames crackled, and she stared into them as if they might offer a solution.What were they going to do?The town had always been a nuisance, but now it was more than that. It was a threat. When the humans first arrived a century ago, carving their little piece of civilization into the edge of wolf territory, the pack could afford to be patient. Her father—Alpha before her—had seen it as an opportunity.
Return to Nature: Fur and Fury Chapter Six: The Call Beneath His Skin
Sleep was not coming tonight.Atticus lay flat on his back, staring at theceiling,his arms folded behind his head. The hum of the night was alive beyond the walls of his cabin—crickets chirping, wind whispering through pine needles, the distant creak of the forest shifting in its ancient sleep. Normally, those sounds soothed him. Tonight, they felt louder. Closer.Every time he closed his eyes, he saw flashes of the clearing: the wolves circling, the violet-eyed one standing be
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Talia lunged toward the nearest wolf with a grizzly snarl, muscles rippling beneath her fur. The forest exploded with motion—leaves whipping, earth scattering under her paws as she slammed into Bradly's side with bone-rattling force.Her teeth snapped inches from his muzzle, hot breath steaming in the cold air. The old wolf snarled back, a low, guttural sound that trembled between fear and defiance. It was enough to spark a fresh surge of rage through her.The growl that tore from her throat was ancient—something older than words. A sound that came from the marrow of her bloodline, from generations of leaders who’d ruled before her.Old Bradly flinched, baring his neck at last, but the hesitation had been too long. Too bold.Talia slammed her paw down onto his chest, claws digging into the dirt beside his ribs as she pressed him flat. The air whooshed from his lungs in a pitiful gasp. Her fangs hovered a hair’s breadth from his throat, the heat of her breath stirring the fur there.He
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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 backe
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Morning came too quickly. Atticus groaned, a faint ache of unrest behind his eyes and a strange heaviness in his chest. The work building was quiet. The blanket he’d used for the wolf still lay on the floor, fur clinging to it, a few drops of dried blood marking where she’d been. The scent still lingered—wild and warm, sweet like honey and something else he couldn’t quite name. He exhaled and rubbed a hand over his face. She was gone. No matter how much he turned it over in his mind, the whole thing didn’t make sense. The speed of her recovery. The way she’d looked at him—really looked at him. And those eyes. The exact shade of his own. He forced his thoughts back into line. There was work to do. Bills to pay. A team to manage. His morning routine passed in a blur. Coffee, shower, clothes, boots. Each movement automatic, mechanical, his mind still half in the woods. When he finally climbed into his truck, the familiar rumble of the engine grounded him just enough to push forward
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