09 Prey in the Black Woods

Nyra’s POV

The first wolf hit me like a shadow with teeth.

I didn’t even see it properly, just heard the snap of branches, felt the air shift, and then pain tore across my shoulder as something heavy slammed into me.

I screamed.

The sound ripped out of my throat raw and ugly, swallowed almost instantly by the trees.

Claws raked my arm. Hot. Deep. The world tilted as I stumbled back, my heel catching on a root. I hit the ground hard, breath punching out of me.

Above me, eyes glowed.

Not pack eyes.

Rogue eyes.

Yellow and hungry, the kind that didn’t look at you like a person but like meat.

My blood turned to ice.

I scrambled, palms slipping on damp earth, lungs burning as I forced myself up. Another body lunged, grey fur, thick shoulders, jaws open.

I twisted just in time and felt teeth scrape my side.

Agony flashed white behind my eyes.

I staggered, clutching my ribs, and ran.

My legs didn’t feel like mine. My body screamed that I was too slow, too weak, too human. The forest blurred into dark streaks. Branches whipped my face. Thorns snagged my skirt.

Behind me, snarls rose, low, eager, getting closer.

They were playing with me.

Like wolves played with prey before they killed it.

My chest tightened. Panic clawed at my throat.

Move, Nyra.

I ran harder.

My lungs wheezed. My injured arm throbbed, warm blood slipping down to my wrist.

My side burned with every breath. I couldn’t shift. I couldn’t heal.

I could only run.

And running was never enough.

A heavy impact knocked into my back, something slammed me forward. I crashed into the ground again, face scraping dirt and leaves.

A mouth closed around my calf.

Pain exploded so viciously I saw stars.

I screamed again, kicked wildly, felt my boot connect with bone, and the jaw loosened long enough for me to rip free.

I didn’t look back.

I crawled up on shaking arms and stumbled forward, limping now, dragging my leg as if it belonged to someone else.

The trees opened suddenly into a narrow cut between rocks, darkness yawning like a mouth.

A cave.

Not a cage, not safety, just an opening that promised concealment.

I didn’t think. I threw myself inside.

The air changed immediately, cool and damp, the smell of stone and old earth. I pressed my back against the wall, panting, trying to silence my sobs, trying to make myself smaller than I already was.

My heart hammered so loudly I was sure they’d hear it.

Outside, the forest went unnaturally quiet for a beat.

Then,

A snarl.

Closer.

My stomach dropped.

I stumbled deeper into the cave, hands out, fingertips finding slick stone. The passage narrowed and dipped. It was almost pitch-black, but a faint silver seam of moonlight filtered in from somewhere above, just enough for me to see jagged shapes and a shallow hollow further in.

I fell into that hollow, curling my body tight, hugging my injured arm to my chest.

Please.

Please don’t find me.

Another sound, pads on stone.

Not one set.

Several.

The rogues had followed me in.

My breath stopped.

Two shapes slid into the cave mouth, their eyes catching the moonlight like coins. One of them lowered its head, sniffing.

The other growled, deep, satisfied.

They could smell my blood.

They could smell my fear.

I pressed my hand over my mouth to stop the sound that wanted to escape.

The first rogue stepped forward, slow and deliberate, like it was enjoying this. Its fur bristled along its spine. It bared its teeth and the cave seemed to shrink around it.

I tried to move back, but there was nowhere left. Stone to my left. Stone to my right.

Darkness behind.

Trapped.

The rogue’s lips peeled back further.

And then the air changed again.

A different presence surged into the cave, fast, violent, dominant.

Three wolves burst in like a storm.

Not pack wolves.

Not rogues either.

Bigger. Heavier. Their coats gleamed even in the dark, one black as night, one ginger-red like fire, one brown-gold, broad and scarred.

They didn’t hesitate.

They went for the rogues with brutal precision.

Teeth snapped. Bodies collided. The cave filled with snarls and the sickening sound of flesh meeting force. One rogue yelped, high, panicked, before being slammed into the cave wall.

The black wolf moved like death with fur.

A flash of teeth, a twist, and the rogue went down hard, throat exposed, blood dark against stone.

My stomach lurched. I clapped a hand over my mouth again, shaking, terrified and relieved at the same time.

The second rogue tried to bolt past them, straight towards me.

The ginger wolf intercepted it mid-leap.

They crashed, rolling, claws scraping stone. The ginger wolf tore into its shoulder, forcing it down, forcing its head aside. The brown-gold wolf lunged and finished it with a brutal bite that made my whole body flinch.

Then silence fell.

Not peaceful.

Just… finished.

The three wolves stood over the bodies, chests heaving, eyes scanning the shadows. The black wolf’s gaze snapped to me and held.

Something in my chest tightened.

Not fear this time.

Something worse.

Something impossible.

A pull.

Not the familiar ache that lived under my ribs, the bond I’d carried for four years like a secret bruise.

This was different.

New.

Sharp.

It hooked into me like a blade and twisted.

My stomach turned with dread.

No.

Not again.