CHAPTER FOUR- DANGER LOOMS

"Again," Carlos said, holding up his hands. "This time, don't let me see what you're going to do before you do it."

I threw a punch at his left hand, then quickly hit his right. He caught both, but smiled.

"Better. You're learning."

We've been training for two weeks now. At first, it was just to help me regain strength. But now it felt like more than that. He said a woman living alone needed to defend herself, but I sensed another reason.

"Why are you teaching me to fight like this?" I asked, wiping sweat from my face. "Most women learn to sew and play music."

"Most women don't almost die in rivers." His gray eyes were serious. "Someone wanted to hurt you before. Maybe kill you. I won't let you be weak if they come back."

The way he said it made my heart beat faster.

"Try again," he said. "This time, don't hold back."

I ran at him, aiming for his stomach. He stepped aside, just like I expected. I spun and tried to trip him. He jumped back, laughing.

"Good. You're thinking now."

But as he moved, my eyes lingered. The way his muscles flexed under his shirt... the way his breath came slower than mine, calm and steady. When I stumbled and he reached to steady me, his hand stayed on my arm.

We were standing close. Close enough that I could see the silver flecks in his gray eyes. Close enough to breathe in that familiar scent of pine and leather. His eyes held mine for a long moment, and my heart raced.

"Amelia..." he murmured.

"Yes?"

For a heartbeat, I thought he might kiss me.

But he stepped back suddenly, clearing his throat. "That's enough for today. You should rest."

I wanted to tell him I wasn’t tired. That I wanted to stay close to him. But I saw it, the wall he’d just put up.

"Of course," I said.

The next morning, Carlos left early to check his animal traps. I was making bread. The cabin was quiet, except for the soft crackle of the fire.

Then I heard it. A faint scraping sound. Soft, like someone trying not to be heard.

I stilled, hands frozen in the dough.

Carlos wouldn't sneak in. He’d call out, stomp his boots, grumble about the cold.

My heart thudded. I wiped my hands quickly and crept to the window, staying low.

What I saw made my blood run cold.

I saw Carlos lying still near the trees. Blood ran from a cut on his head. Fear shot through me. Was he dead?

A tall man stood over him. Pale, wiry, with dirty brown hair and cold blue eyes. He sniffed the air, lips curling into a cruel smile.

A predator’s smile.

I stumbled back from the window, heart hammering. I ran deeper into the cabin, pressed myself against the wall, trying to silence my breathing.

The front door creaked open.

"Little ivory wolf," the stranger said, his voice like a slow hiss. "You can't hide from me. I've waited too long."

I bit my lip to keep from crying out. Who was he? How did he know about me?

His footsteps creaked across the floor, closer, closer.

When he passed the table, I grabbed the iron poker from the fireplace and swung hard.

He caught it mid-air.

With a sneer, he yanked it from my hand and tossed it aside. His claws slashed across my face. I hit the floor, hard.

Pain rang through my skull. I looked up, dazed.

The man was tall and thin, dressed in tattered clothes. In his hand, a silver knife gleamed in the morning light.

I bared my teeth, letting my claws slide free. Survival kicked in. I lunged at him.

We clashed, slamming into walls, knocking chairs and shelves aside. I was fast, but he was stronger. Much stronger. Every blow I landed, he returned harder. He slammed me into the table, splitting it in half.

"Who are you?" I gasped, stumbling back.

"Someone who's been looking for you for a long time." His eyes gleamed. "You can't hide what you are, girl."

"I don't know what you mean."

He stepped closer. "Don't you? It's already started. I can smell it on you."

I tried to reach behind me, feeling for the poker.

"Ivory wolves always think they're clever," he sneered. "But your bloodline has its own smell. Sweet like honey... sharp like metal."

"Ivory wolf?" I whispered. "That's not possible."

"Isn't it?" he said, eyes narrowing. "Tell me, girl , have you had dreams? Visions? Things that feel more like memories than dreams?"

My heart stopped. The woman with silver hair.

His grin widened. "I see from your face you have. It always starts with dreams. Then comes strength, speed, and power."

"I don't have any power."

"Not yet. But you will. And I'm here to stop it before you become what you're meant to be."

He lunged.

I grabbed the poker and swung. He ducked, slammed into me shoulder-first. Air whooshed from my lungs. I crashed to the floor, gasping.

He came at me again, knife aimed at my chest. I rolled, barely avoiding it. The blade stuck in the floor beside me.

"Fast," he growled, yanking it free. "But not fast enough."

I scrambled up and slammed the poker into his arm. He howled and dropped the knife.

But before I could grab it, he punched me in the ribs. I fell over. His hands closed around my throat.

"Should’ve made this easy," he hissed. "Now you’ll suffer."

His grip tightened. Black dots filled my vision. My lungs burned. My claws scratched at his skin, but it was no use.

"Just let go," he whispered. "It’ll all be over soon."

Then,

A flash.

A woman. Blood spilling on snow.

The vision hit me like lightning. Not my death, someone else’s. Someone important.

Anger exploded through me, hot and strong and more powerful than anything I'd ever felt. Energy surged through my muscles, my bones, my blood.

I grabbed his wrists. Pulled. Broke his grip.

"Not possible," he gasped. "You haven't fully awakened yet,"

I didn't let him finish. My hand closed around the silver knife, and I stabbed it up into his chest.

He gasped. Blood poured from his mouth.

He staggered backward, looking down at the knife sticking out between his ribs.

"You... can't outrun this," he spat. "They’ll come for you... all of them..."

"And I'll kill every one of you," I said, steady though my hands were shaking.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but only blood came out. He fell to his knees, then forward onto the floor.

I stood over him, shaking, breathing hard. The power that surged through me a moment ago now faded into tiredness and confusion.

Ivory wolf. The words echoed in my head.

What did that mean? What was I?

I dropped the knife and ran outside, heart pounding.

Carlos. Please be alive, I prayed. Please be okay.

Because whatever I was, whatever power was waking up inside me, whoever is after me, I knew one thing for sure.

I couldn't face it alone.