THE HUNT BEGINS

Consciousness returned in fragments in a dark room, there was nothing but the dull rhythm of hooves striking earth and the cold bite of air against my skin; my arms tired behind my back, rough rope cutting my wrists, the scent of unfamiliar wolves. 

The memory rushed back all at once; the gardens, the well, hands grabbing me, the cloth over my face.  I gasped for breath and quickly calmed down–panicking wouldn't help me now.

Slowly, and carefully, I shifted my hand in a bid to loosen the rope, but the more I tried, the further the fibres dug into my skin; then it hit me, struggling was pointless and so was calling for help.

I held still and listened. At first it was nothing, then a faint sound reached me through the walls, low voices, I couldn’t recognise any of them, nor the scent. My stomach tightened at the thought of what they might do to me, someone had planned this I was sure, another thought followed quickly behind it, why me?

The sound of footsteps approaching the door interrupted my train of thoughts, the door opened with a creak, two sets of boots entered the room. 

“She’s still out?” a rough voice said 

“Yeah,” another replied, “the herb knocks people cold.”

Another voice broke into the quiet atmosphere, interrupting them before they could say anything else.

“Not her.”

It wasn't really loud, but somehow it cut through the air and made the other two stop talking instantly.

As soon as the door closed, even before the smell hit me, I sensed it. There was something familiar about the change in the air, a subtle heaviness that felt eerily similar to what I'd experienced in the gardens the previous night. It was as if my instincts had picked up on a signal, a quiet warning that something was off. The feeling was hard to explain, but it was there, lingering just beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged.

The traveller.

"Then she'll wake up soon," the first man said quietly. "What are we going to do when she does - I mean, how will we handle it?"

“Leave,” the traveller said.

There was no debate, no pause, just the sound of footsteps walking away, the door creaking open and shut. Then, silence fell once more, this time it was even more still.

I took slow, deep breaths, trying to calm my body and keep it relaxed, even though I could feel the tension building up inside me.

The room changed with him in it.

I sensed him drawing nearer, his slow and deliberate footsteps seeming to encircle me, as if he were intently examining me, but not in a way that made me feel like I was being hunted or possessed.

Then, quieter, almost to himself he said:

“So it’s true.”

A chill slid down my spine.

His hand touched mine, just for a second, but it was on purpose. It didn't hurt or anything, but it still made me feel this weird, tingling sensation. My fingers moved without me even thinking about it, like they had a mind of their own.

He noticed, of course he would 

"Be careful," he whispered, his voice low and gentle, and I knew he was talking to me this time. "If you keep up this act, they'll think the medicine didn't work and that’s worse.”

Silence stretched between us, shortly I opened my eyes, it was difficult to adjust to the darkness and yet I could see him, a darker shape within it, standing too close.

“Do you remember anything?”

"I recall you watching me," I retorted, trying to sound braver than I felt, even as the ropes cut into my wrists. "I should have known you weren't just some ordinary traveler, that there was something more to you."

A soft breath left him. Not quite a laugh.

“No,” he said. “ There was no way you could have.”

The way he spoke, it just caught me off guard, and suddenly I felt this weird sensation in my chest, like it was tightening up or something.

"I want to know what's going on," I said firmly. "Can you tell me who brought me here?"

Another pause. Longer this time, and when he spoke, his voice sounded different - it was deeper and had a rougher edge to it.

“They didn’t send me.”

My stomach dropped.

“They think they did,” he added. “ But they…” I felt him step closer, felt the heat of him now, undeniable. “ They have no idea how all these is about to unfold”

A surge of frustration broke through the anxiety, and she shot back, "That still doesn't give me the answer I'm looking for."

“No,” he agreed calmly. “ It doesn’t.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke, then, he  began to speak, his voice low and casual, as if he was sharing a secret that had been hidden for a long time. 

“There’s a story, one that has been before either of our bloodlines, most people call it a legend now.”  I instantly felt nauseous, I hated that I was hearing  yet, he kept talking, 

“There are bonds that don’t just exist to bind…they wake things that should have stayed buried.”

A cold weight settled in my chest.

"I'm not buying that," I told him, "what you're saying sounds more like a warning than a tale."

“Maybe,” he said

I spoke slowly, choosing my words with caution, and asked, "What does all of this have to do with me, exactly?"

He didn’t answer immediately.

As I stood there, I felt his hand brush against mine once more, this time his fingers wrapping around the rope that bound my wrists. The fibers of the rope seemed to shift and loosen, ever so slightly, although he didn't actually untie me.

“Everything,” he said at last.

“Come on, tell me what's going on,”I said, pushing for an answer. “Is it your group, someone who wants to hurt you, or maybe someone else entirely?”

“Neither.”

Then, almost like a warning

“You don’t understand what you’ve been pulled into.”

“Then make me understand.”

There was another silence. He let out a slow breath, like he was making up his mind about something.

And when he spoke again, the name in his voice felt like it didn’t belong in this small, suffocating room.

“The Lycan King is already looking for you.”

“That’s not possible,” I said immediately. “ How does he know me? Why is he looking for me? Did he…”

“He had made it clear that he will keep to himself, never overstepping boundaries or trying to interfere with your life, and honestly, he  just doesn't seem to care about what's going on in your world…Until now..”

My mind raced, trying to catch up, trying to make sense of something that refused to fit.

“Why?” I whispered.

This time, when he spoke up, his response was immediate.

“Because if he finds you first…” his voice dropped, closer now, right at my ear

“You won’t belong to yourself anymore.”

“And if he doesn’t?” I asked, barely audible.

For the first time, something in him shifted—something darker, sharper.

“Then you’ll belong to me.”

The words landed like a blow.

Before I even had a chance to process what was happening, before any words could form in my mind, I was caught off guard and left speechless.

The ground beneath us jolted violently.

A distant roar echoed through the walls, deep, inhuman—powerful enough to make the air itself tremble.

Outside, chaos erupted. Shouts. Running feet. Panic.

The traveler went completely still.

For the first time since he walked in, he didn't sound so sure of himself.

“…He’s early.”

My blood ran cold.

Another roar tore through the night, closer this time.

The realization hit me very quickly, the Lycan King had already found me.