MasukEliraRonan’s chest shifted under my palm.Barely a twitch. Just the faintest flutter of muscle and breath. But it made me freeze, staring at his face to see if his eyes would open. They didn’t. He settled again, deeper this time—like whatever spark of awareness had flickered through him decided sleep was the better option.“Did you see that?” I whispered.Brad nodded. “Yeah. He stirred.”I kept watching, listening to the steady rhythm of Ronan’s heartbeat until the door creaked open and a gust of cold air hit my back.“Anything exciting happen while I was gone?” Wallace’s voice was casual—too casual.Brad and I locked eyes.Then we both looked at him.“What?” Wallace asked, brow raised as he stepped fully into the cabin.That’s when I saw it—he was covered in blood. Not soaked, but streaked. Splattered. Smears of crimson lined his forearms, and a dark patch stained one side of his tunic. He held two rabbits by their back feet, their bodies swinging lazily with each step.My eyes went
EliraI didn’t realize how cold I was until we stepped back inside and the heat wrapped around me like a wool blanket. My cheeks stung from the sudden warmth, fingers aching as the blood rushed back in.Wallace shook the snow from his shoulders and kicked the door closed behind him. “Practice holding your scent mask,” he said, voice low but certain. “Keep it on at all times if you can—not just for your protection, but for anyone you care about.”I nodded, flexing my hands as I walked toward the hearth. “You think I’ll be able to?”“At the rate you’re picking it up?” He gave a small laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’d be shocked if it took you more than a few days to master it completely. You’ve got that natural rhythm—like your wolf always knew how to do it. You just needed to listen.”My chest tightened at the praise, but I didn’t argue. For once, I didn’t want to.Brad was still out cold, stretched on the cot in the other room like a man who hadn’t slept in weeks. Wallace gla
EliraWallace led me out behind the cabin, past the garden where frost still clung to the leaves, and into the trees. The air was sharp with cold and pine, and my breath came in soft clouds.“Right here’s fine,” he said, scanning the clearing like it could shift beneath our feet.I glanced around. “What are we doing exactly?”He turned to face me, arms crossed over his chest. “We’re teaching you how to vanish.”I blinked. “Excuse me?”He grinned faintly. “Not literally. Not yet. But if you master scent-masking? You might as well be a ghost in winter. A white wolf in the snow, and nothing for them to track. No trail. No scent. You’d be untouchable.”“That sounds… impossible.”“It’s not. Hard? Yes. But not impossible. The trick is knowing it’s not just about you.”I frowned. “What do you mean?”He stepped closer. “Most wolves fail at masking because they only do it halfway. The human part tries to suppress it, and the wolf part fights them. Because scent isn’t just smell to us—it’s powe
EliraI flung the door open so fast the latch nearly tore off.Wallace and Brad stumbled inside, boots thudding on the wooden floor. Snow clung to their shoulders, breath fogging the air. Wallace’s jaw was tight. Brad’s eyes still burned like wildfire.“Are you both okay?” I asked, stepping back so they could pass.“Fine,” Wallace grunted, shutting the door hard behind him and bolting it tight. “They weren’t expecting gunfire. Spooked easy.”Brad huffed, dragging a hand through his hair. “Retreated like rats. But they’ll be back. That wasn’t a full attack. Just a scout party.”Wallace turned toward me, eyes sharper now. “They know where you are, Elira. That changes things.”“I figured,” I said quietly. “It’s not like I’m hard to find.”“No,” he agreed, stripping off his coat. “Your scent is like a damn beacon. I should’ve thought of it sooner.”I sighed. “My… scent, it’s always the problem.”He nodded. “That curse of yours. It doesn’t just affect wolves on instinct—it lingers. Stronge
EliraThe cabin creaked as the sun climbed over the horizon, casting long stripes of light across the floor. I sat cross-legged near the hearth, rewrapping Ronan’s chest as gently as I could. His breathing stayed steady. Still unconscious, but strong. I’d take it.Wallace was outside making a perimeter check, and Brad leaned against the far wall, arms folded, eyes on me.He’d been quiet all morning, but I could feel the tension rolling off him in waves.When I glanced up, he pushed off the wall. “When Wallace gets back in, I’m heading out. Gonna hunt.”I nodded. “Good. We could use the meat.”He hesitated. “It’s not just that. No offense, but I need to get the hell out of here for a bit. My wolf’s going stir-crazy. Your scent… it’s unlike anything I’ve ever encountered.”I gave a wry smile. “Believe me, I understand. Probably more than anyone. It’s part of my curse. It’s what drove me to the Wastelands.”Brad exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know how Wa
EliraRonan didn’t move.But I still watched him like he might. Like at any second his eyes would crack open and pin me to the floor, full of some unreadable storm I’d have to weather all over again.The silence settled thick around me once Wallace left. The cabin creaked softly as the wind outside stirred the walls, and the fire crackled, chasing shadows up the stone hearth. I hadn’t realized how safe Wallace’s presence had made me feel until it was gone. Now, it was just me. Me and a man who’d almost died. Me and a heartbeat I wasn’t sure I could live without if it stopped.I rose and walked to the door, slipping the iron latch back into place, then double-checking the windows. Everything was secure. I even gave the rifle beside the hearth a nervous glance—still loaded, still ready. Just in case.The salve had done its part, but infection could still creep in. The rogue venom Wallace warned me about might still linger, and no one knew how long Ronan would sleep. My wolf kept pacing







