Chapter 1

The wolf starts full-on growling.

"Eliah. What is happening?" Demetri asks, his voice tight with nerves.

I shoot him a look. "I just got here. How am I supposed to know?"

Linda, another vet, stands stiffly beside him. Zack, our assistant, looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. They all shrug, and Linda’s face is pale.

The wolf shifts, and I immediately turn my attention back to him.

"No, wait! Don’t move—you’ll hurt yourself," I say, crouching low in submission but keeping a safe distance.

He whimpers, and then his eyes meet mine—piercing green, locked onto my golden brown ones. His fur is pitch black, thicker than a Samoyed’s, and his size… bigger than any wolf I’ve ever seen. Bigger than a Dire wolf, even.

I soften my expression, offering a gentle, teethless smile. It’s a basic technique—lowering perceived threat through facial cues. But instead of calming, he starts crying. Whining.

"Oh, I’m sorry," I murmur, keeping my voice low and warm. "I know you’re hurt. That’s why I’m here—to help."

Demetri tries to lighten the mood. “No, seriously. What is happening? I thought I was going to die, but as soon as you show up, he turns into a puppy.”

Zack snickers, but I don’t respond. My focus is locked on the wolf.

He lowers his head, trembling slightly. Cowering.

I tilt my head, mirroring his posture. Eye contact is risky with wild animals, but with canines—especially injured ones—it can be a bridge. I let my gaze soften, projecting calm. Trust. I shift forward slowly, like a crawling toddler, keeping my movements fluid and non-threatening.

"Are you crazy? Stop," Zack hisses. 

Before I have to start the whole process over again, Demetri shushes him. Thank goodness someone here understands that sudden movements could trigger a defensive attack.

I inch closer, leaving about a meter between us. The wolf exhales—a deep, exhausted sigh—and slumps into a lying position.

That’s when I see it.

A massive wound stretches across his side, raw and angry. I bite back a gasp.

"Hand me the sedative," I whisper as softly as I can, extending my hand without looking away.

A moment later, I feel the cool metal press into my palm.

I scan his body for a viable injection site. The hind leg—close enough to reach, far enough from the injury to avoid aggravating it. If I do this right, he won’t even notice.

I reach out with my left hand, gently stroking the area. He flinches, but then relaxes under my touch.

With my right hand, I slide the needle in—quick, precise, practised. I keep petting him, masking the sensation. My hands move with the kind of calm that only comes from years of training and dozens of tense encounters.

He doesn’t react.

Good.

I back away slowly, but a low grumble stops me in my tracks. My eyes shoot up and lock with the wolf’s. He’s lifted his head, growling again—staring me down.

“Step away, Eliah,” Demetri whispers from somewhere behind me.

I nod, but take my time. Sudden movements could trigger him, and I’m not about to undo the fragile trust we’ve built.

"He should feel drowsy in a minute," I whisper as I reach the others. We exchange tense glances, silently weighing our next move.

"Zack, get the car," Demetri fires in Zack's direction, just as the wolf begins to bare his teeth.

Zack doesn’t argue. He bolts toward the Jeep.

Linda’s frozen, so I gently drag her behind me. My right arm pulls Demetri back, my left nudges Linda into safety. All the while, I keep my gaze on the wolf’s—his green eyes burning into mine.

He takes a step forward, and I stop moving. I relax my muscles, soften my expression, and hold the gaze. No threat. No panic.

He whines again—high-pitched, almost like a puppy seeking comfort.

Then I hear the Jeep struggling over the rocky terrain. Linda yelps and dives into the passenger seat while Zack reverses, trying to angle the vehicle just right.

The wolf’s eyes begin to droop. His body slumps.

Now’s our chance.

"I’ll take his head to prevent strain or snapping. Zack, you’ve got shoulders and chest. Demetri, take the hind legs and stomach. Linda's freaking out, rightfully so, so be careful not to swing his legs—no backup," I instruct the two men as we each take our positions.

I slide my hands under his massive head, cradling it gently. His skull is heavy—lion-like in size, though more refined. I’ve held a lion’s head once, during a sanctuary transfer. This feels eerily similar.

"It’s okay, buddy," I whisper. "In thirty minutes, you’ll be sleeping on a comfy bed."

Demetri checks in. "Ready?"

"One, two, three," Zack rushes the count. We stumble slightly under the wolf’s weight. He whimpers, the pain clearly worsening despite the sedative.

Demetri and Zack manoeuvre the back half into the cage. Zack grunts as he shoves the wolf's entire weight into the back. I guide his head to rest safely on the padded floor.

Then I climb in. 

"Are you crazy?" Zack repeats himself from a few minutes ago, this time with a full-on glare.

"You really want to leave him in here, groggy and hurting, on a bumpy ride? You’re mental if you think that’s safe," I say, raising an eyebrow and flashing a grimacing smile. Truthfully, I just wanted to avoid Zack’s complaining—and the cramped front seat. The Jeep doesn't have backseats to make the cage bigger, so only three people can fit in the front.

"Fine. Your funeral," Zack scoffs, stomping off.

Demetri helps me hoist myself into the boot. He chuckles, "Our animal whisperer did it again."

I roll my eyes at the nickname, but let a smile slip.

He shuts the door, and I settle into the only open space—by the wolf’s stomach. His body barely fits in the cage. I start to worry about the size of the operating room. We’ve handled brown bears before, but this… this is different.

And then he stares at me again.

Like he knows.

Like he’s reading my thoughts.

He whimpers again, and I'm lost.

"What do you want me to do, huh? Does it hurt that bad?" I lean closer, inspecting the wound—and my breath catches.

The Jeep jolts forward, and the overhead light flickers on. What I saw in the woods was nothing compared to this.

Blood is still gushing, pooling around us. Three deep slashes tear across his side—wide, jagged, unmistakably paw-shaped. And tangled in the matted fur and blood, I spot something worse.

Aconitum.

I slide open the small metal window separating me from the others..

"Hurry!" I warn the others.

"What's wrong?" Linda’s face is pale, eyes wide with horror.

"We're gonna lose him. Why didn't you even think to mention the state he is in?" I snap at Demetri.

"I did—" 

"No. All you said was 'he's hurt'. What happened to 'he's dying'? And he’s covered in wolfsbane!"

Demetri scoffs. "Well, if you weren’t so slow-paced—"

"If you weren’t so vague, maybe I would’ve hurled my ass over here faster!" I slam the window shut before he can respond.

I see the latch moving, so I lock the window from my side.

"Oh, come on," Demetri pounds on the window a few times, but then stops.

That’s when I feel it.

A rumble beside me.

I turn, confused—and nearly scream.

The wolf’s eyes lock onto mine, wild and glassy. He lunges, massive body crashing toward me, a mess of whimpers and snarls.

The sedative should’ve knocked him out cold. It’s been ten minutes. That shot could drop a bear for hours.

But he’s up. Moving. 

I scramble back, heart pounding. He’s not attacking—he’s desperate. Confused and in pain.

The Jeep slows. Linda will jump out at reception, probably to handle the property owner. Maybe even call in backup.

Then we hit the paved road, and the ride smooths out.

The wolf steadies himself. His muscles tense. He’s getting into a stance.

I barely have time to react.

Before I can calm him down or protect myself—

He leaps.