Old Wounds

The river valley between Silver Claw and Red Fang territories was a no-man’s-land, a scarred stretch of earth where the ghosts of old battles lingered. The ground was a churned mess of mud and gravel, slick from the morning’s rain, and littered with the bleached bones of prey—and sometimes predators—picked clean by scavengers. A sluggish river cut through the center, its waters murky and flecked with silt, reflecting the gray sky above. On either side, dense thickets of brambles and stunted pines clawed their way up the slopes, their branches heavy with the scent of decay. The air was thick with the tang of wet earth and blood, a reminder of the valley’s history. This was contested ground, claimed by neither pack but fought over by both, a place where claws met flesh more often than words met reason.

Samantha Lykos led her patrol with a predator’s grace, her boots sinking into the mud as she moved silently through the underbrush. Her auburn hair, streaked with silver, was tied back in a messy braid, strands escaping to frame her sharp green eyes. The scar on her cheek itched—a phantom memory of a childhood fight she’d rather forget. She wore her leather jacket over a faded red tank top, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the lean muscle of her arms. Behind her, two Silver Claw wolves—Jasper, a wiry beta with a crooked nose, and Mara, a broad-shouldered fighter with a shaved head—followed in tense silence. They were on edge after last night’s howl, the Black Shadow threat still fresh in their minds. Sam felt it too, a restless energy that made her wolf pace beneath her skin, but she kept her focus on the task: scout the valley, secure the border, and get back before dusk.

The scent hit her first—fresh blood, warm and coppery, cutting through the damp air. She raised a hand, signaling her patrol to stop, and crouched low behind a gnarled pine. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted the source: a deer carcass, its throat torn open, lying in a clearing near the riverbank. The kill was fresh, steam still rising from the body, but the scent of another pack clung to it. Red Fang. Sam’s lip curled. Of course.

She stood, stepping into the open, her voice sharp as a blade. “Jasper, Mara, flank the clearing. We’ve got company.” They nodded, melting into the shadows as Sam strode forward, her boots squelching in the mud. She didn’t have to wait long. Three figures emerged from the opposite side of the clearing, their silhouettes broad and menacing against the gray light. Red Fang wolves. And leading them was the last person she wanted to see.

Kevin Talon, Alpha of the Red Fang Pack, was a wall of muscle and menace, his jet-black hair tousled from the wind, his stormy gray eyes locked on her with an intensity that made her skin prickle. He wore a black long-sleeve shirt, the fabric stretched tight over his broad chest, a jagged scar peeking out from the collar—a memento from a Black Shadow ambush years ago. His beta, Tara, a petite redhead with freckles and a scowl, flanked him on the left, while a hulking wolf named Bryce, all brawn and no brains, stood on his right. Kevin’s gaze flicked to the deer, then back to Sam, a slow smirk curling his lips.

“Still stealing what’s mine, Lykos?” he growled, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine she refused to acknowledge.

Sam crossed her arms, her smirk matching his. “Still too slow to claim it, Talon?” She nodded at the deer. “That’s on our side of the river. You know the rules.”

Kevin stepped closer, his boots crunching on a deer rib as he closed the distance. He towered over her, but Sam didn’t back down, her chin lifting defiantly. “Rules?” he said, his tone mocking. “You Silver Claws love your rules—until they don’t suit you. That deer crossed into our territory before you got your claws on it.”

“Bullshit,” Sam snapped, her green eyes flashing. “I can smell your scent all over it, but it died here. That makes it ours.” She took a step forward, their chests nearly brushing, the air between them crackling with tension. She hated how his scent—pine and smoke, with a hint of something wild—invaded her senses, stirring her wolf in ways she didn’t want to think about.

Tara snorted, her red hair glinting as she shifted her weight. “You’re full of it, Lykos. Always have been.” She glanced at Kevin, her loyalty clear. “Let’s take it and go, Kev. She’s not worth the fight.”

Sam’s gaze flicked to Tara, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Aw, Tara, still hiding behind your Alpha? Some things never change.” Tara growled, her hands curling into fists, but Kevin raised a hand, silencing her.

“Enough,” he said, his eyes never leaving Sam’s. “You want the deer? Fight for it.” His smirk widened, a challenge in his gray eyes that made Sam’s blood heat with irritation—and something else she refused to name.

She opened her mouth to retort, but the air shifted, a new scent cutting through the valley like a blade: wet fur, rot, and malice. Black Shadow. Before she could react, a snarl erupted from the thickets, and five wolves burst into the clearing, their amber eyes glowing with hunger. Their coats were matted, their claws long and stained with blood. Sam’s heart slammed against her ribs as she dropped into a fighting stance, her claws extending with a soft snick.

“Ambush!” she shouted, her voice ringing through the valley. Jasper and Mara surged forward, shifting mid-stride into their wolf forms—Jasper a lean gray, Mara a hulking brown—while Kevin’s pack reacted with equal speed. Tara and Bryce shifted, their snarls joining the cacophony, but Kevin stayed human, his gray eyes scanning the enemy as he moved to Sam’s side.

The Black Shadow wolves attacked without mercy, their movements a blur of teeth and claws. Sam ducked a swipe aimed at her throat, her own claws raking across the attacker’s flank. Blood sprayed, hot and coppery, as the wolf yelped and staggered back. She didn’t have time to celebrate—another lunged for her, its jaws snapping inches from her face. She drove her elbow into its snout, the crack of bone satisfying, but the fight was chaos, a whirlwind of fur and fury.

Kevin fought beside her, his movements precise and brutal. He grabbed a Black Shadow wolf by the scruff, hurling it into the river with a splash, then turned just as another leaped for Sam. “Watch out!” he roared, shoving her aside. The wolf’s claws raked the air where she’d been, but caught Kevin’s arm instead, tearing through his sleeve and drawing blood. He grunted, pain flashing across his face, but he didn’t hesitate—his fist slammed into the wolf’s skull, sending it sprawling.

Sam stumbled, her back pressing against Kevin’s chest as they faced the remaining wolves. His arm wrapped around her waist, steadying her, and for a heartbeat, the world narrowed to the heat of his body against hers. His scent enveloped her—pine, smoke, and now the sharp tang of his blood—igniting a primal pull deep in her core. Her breath hitched, her wolf howling inside her, and she hated how it lingered, how it made her want to lean into him instead of pull away. His grip tightened, his voice a low growl in her ear. “You okay?”

She shoved down the flicker of lust, her irritation flaring instead. “I had it,” she snapped, twisting out of his hold. But her eyes betrayed her, flicking to the blood dripping down his arm, a jolt of worry she couldn’t suppress.

Kevin’s gray eyes met hers, a storm brewing in their depths. “Sure you did,” he muttered, but there was no mockery in his tone this time—just a raw edge that made her chest tighten. He turned back to the fight, his shoulders tense, but she felt the shift in him, a jolt of protectiveness he couldn’t shake.

The last Black Shadow wolf lunged, its amber eyes locked on Sam, but Jasper and Tara tackled it together, their jaws closing around its throat. The wolf’s howl cut off in a gurgle, and the valley fell silent, save for the ragged breathing of the survivors and the sluggish rush of the river. Blood stained the mud, mixing with the bones of past battles, and the air reeked of death.

Sam straightened, her chest heaving as she wiped blood from her hands. Her patrol was battered but alive—Jasper limped slightly, and Mara had a gash across her flank, but they’d survived. Kevin’s pack fared better, though Tara was nursing a bitten ear, her glare still fixed on Sam. Kevin stood a few feet away, his arm bleeding steadily, but his focus was on her, his gaze unreadable.

She forced her voice to steady, her sarcasm a shield. “Nice of you to finally show up, Talon. Thought you’d let us do all the work.”

He snorted, but his eyes softened, just for a moment. “You’re welcome, Lykos.” He glanced at the deer, now trampled and useless in the fight. “Guess neither of us gets the kill now.”

Sam’s lips twitched, a reluctant smile breaking through her irritation. “Guess not.” She turned to her patrol, her voice firm. “Jasper, Mara, let’s move. We need to report this.” They nodded, shifting back to human form, their expressions grim.

Kevin called after her as she started to walk away. “Sam.” She froze at the sound of her name on his lips, the way it rolled off his tongue like a challenge and a promise. She turned, meeting his gaze. “Watch your back,” he said, his voice low. “They’ll be back.”

She nodded, her throat tight. “You too.” She didn’t look back as she led her patrol out of the valley, but she felt his eyes on her, a weight she couldn’t shake. The scent of pine and smoke lingered in her senses, and with it, a flicker of something dangerous—something she wasn’t ready to face.