Semua Bab W.I.L.D.: Bab 21 - Bab 30

The forest greeted them like an old friend—dense, fragrant with pine and damp earth, and alive with the subtle hum of unseen creatures. Sunlight speared through the canopy in gold shafts, dust motes swirling lazily, as if the woods themselves were holding their breath.Cheyenne moved with a predator’s grace, feet barely brushing the fallen leaves. Gunner fell into step beside her, a quiet anchor of strength and focus. Serenya followed, her bare feet crunching lightly against the forest floor. Solana’s presence thrummed within her, steady and calm.“Ready?” Cheyenne asked, voice soft but edged with steel. “Today’s about more than just running through the woods or dodging trees. It’s about tracking. Scent, movement, presence… learning to anticipate.”Serenya swallowed, nodding. “I—I think so.”“You think so,” Gunner repeated, tone low and teasing, th

The air in the protected field was heavy with expectation. Serenya stood at the center, her bare feet pressing into the soft earth, circled on all sides by the five Guardians. Cheyenne, Nalia, Chelsea, Tora, and Isolde — each of them radiant, brimming with power. Behind them, their mates lingered at the edges of the wards, close enough to watch, far enough not to interfere.Serenya swallowed hard. Her pulse thrummed in her ears, louder than the whisper of wind through the grass. This was it — the culmination of every test, every spar, every bruise, every lesson. Her final trial.You’re shaking. Solana’s voice brushed through her mind, cool and steady. Why? You already know the outcome. You will succeed.“I don’t know that,” Serenya thought back fiercely. She clenched her fists, staring at the five women who looked ready to tear her apart. “They’ve had years, lifetimes even, to maste

The forest at the edge of the Blood Moon pack lands was unnervingly still, a suffocating quiet broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves. Cheyenne’s senses were on high alert, every hair on her arms standing on end as she felt the faint tremors of movement—the monsters were near. Her eyes, glowing faintly from Koa, scanned the treeline, her crown of thorns and stars flickering like a warning in her mind.Without thinking, all the Guardians shifted instinctively into battle stances, hands clenching, claws half-extended, eyes blazing with determination. Serenya felt Solana stir within her, a pulse of quiet warning. Wait. Observe. Protect first. The words echoed in her mind, grounding her.“Hold!” Chelsea’s calm voice cut through the tension like a knife through fog. Every Guardian froze mid-motion, startled at first by the pause. “We cannot just charge in,” she continued, her gray eyes sharp as flint. “The pac

Serenya perched high in the crook of an ancient oak, her bow taut in her hands, her eyes narrowing on the target. The cool morning air whispered through the leaves, carrying the scent of pine and earth, grounding her. Homesick thoughts tried to creep in, but she pushed them aside. She couldn’t afford distraction—not today, not ever again.Her hands adjusted the grip on the arrow, muscles remembering every lesson Nalia, Chelsea, Tora, and the others had drilled into her. Solana’s presence stirred within her mind, calm but insistent: Focus. Breathe. Trust yourself. Trust me.A rustle in the underbrush caught her attention. There it was—a ten-point buck, its antlers like the crown of some woodland king. She drew the arrow back slowly, letting her breath find a rhythm, muscles locked in perfect tension. Her mind cleared; only the target existed.She exhaled.The arrow flew.The deer dropped instantly, a clean shot that

The sun rose pale and thin, bleeding light through a gray sky that did nothing to ease the heaviness pressing down on the cabin. Two days had passed since Gunner vanished, yet it felt like years. The air itself seemed to hold its breath, thick with waiting and dread.Patrols had come and gone, scouts had pushed further each time, and still there was no sign of him. No tracks. No scent. No trace of a struggle beyond the sudden emptiness that had ripped through Cheyenne’s bond. Every time she stirred from exhaustion, her hand reached instinctively for the mark at her neck—red and raw, as though clawed from the inside out.Inside the cabin, exhaustion hung like smoke. Cheyenne hadn’t left her father’s side; he was the only anchor keeping her from drifting into the storm of her own mind. She sat curled against him now, face hidden in his chest, while Tora paced the floor in restless strides that creaked the wood.Jax had been in and out with