Reading Trail Novels & Stories

"We need to follow the vehicle tracks before they get too cold." She's right. Self-blame won't help Brynlee, but tracking will. I force myself to focus on the evidence instead of the crushing weight of knowing that my mate is in danger because I failed to fight for her when it mattered. The vehicle tracks lead to a logging road that connects to the main highway system. Once we reach paved roads, the trail becomes much harder to follow. Harper's equipment can detect trace scents at the junction points, but we're looking at hundreds of possible directions.

Lira’s composure cracked for the first time, just a flicker in her eyes before she locked it down again. “He’s taunting me,” she said quietly. “But he’s also getting closer. The gas station is eighty miles out. He’s circling. Testing our response time.” Elder Harlan muttered something about traps, about waiting for more evidence. Lira ignored him. “We don’t wait. We have his truck plates—partial, but enough. We have the boot print. We have the scent trail from the gas station leading northeast. Trackers picked it up again this morning, heading straight toward your lands, Alpha Sage.”

one called. “Nope,” Elky corrected. The trail ran twenty paces, then took a magician’s bow and disappeared like it had an invisibility cloak on. Nothing but damp grass, storm wind, and rainy heaviness in the air—mocking us with their tart little perfume, as if crime scenes weren’t bad enough without storm trying to freshen the place up. I walked to the break in the grass, looked down at where the blood trail stopped. “Neat trick,” I said. “First rule of survival manual —bleed responsibly.”

The forest trail was cloaked in mist as Serena led the southern scouting team before dawn. Every crunch of underbrush beneath her boots sent a message to the earth: I’m watching. I’m listening. I’m ready. Beside her, Cade moved silently, his nostrils flaring. “The scent trail ends near the river. Whoever they were, they’re good.” Serena crouched low, fingers brushing the damp leaves. “Too good. Rogues don’t usually double back like this.”

The trail wound through the forest, twisting and turning, as if to confuse anyone following it. “We’re getting close,” Cade said, his voice low. “How can you tell?” I asked. He pointed to a broken branch ahead, fresh sap oozing from the wound. “Whoever we’re following, they passed through here not long ago.” My pulse quickened. If we were close, then so was Lyra. Or at least, that’s what I told myself. Raphael’s voice cut through my thoughts. “I hope this wild chase of yours is worth it, wolf. My people didn’t come here to die for your mate.”

Matheus panted. “The trail,” one of them pointed at the ground as they held the light over the snow. “It just ends.” They were right. Matheus knelt by the tracks again. Sure enough, to his astonishment, Rowan’s footprints came to a sudden end and proceeded no further. The Ravennites were glancing around anxiously to try to locate the rest of the trail, but there were simply no other tracks to be found.

Elora asked, her voice laced with curiosity. "It's a trail," I muttered. And weren’t even for me or anyone else. They were a path. A personal one. A trail meant for Elora. And judging by the similarities between the paper and the map that had stayed for decades, Henry had started laying out the path long before Elora ever knew how to even read the codes.

I didn’t even have the energy to cry. All I could do was stare at the ceiling, and wonder if the girl I was before… was already gone. ******* The wind was thick with urgency as Tristan sprinted through the eastern ridge, flanked by two of his best trackers. The trees blurred past, a haze of dark greens and sharp shadows, but he didn’t care. He barely heard the branches snapping underfoot or the low thud of paws against earth. All that mattered was the scent. Jessica. A tracker had picked it up not long ago—faint, but distinct. Fresh. Alive.

I let out a sigh finally maybe he found something. "Sir," he says, his voice tight over the line. "The team searched the entire port road. We found heavy tire tracks leading to the main interstate highway but they disappear completely about a mile out. They switched vehicles at least twice. The trail is completely cold." I close my eyes,. "Keep looking." "We will but it's going to take time." Time. Time is the one luxury I don't fucking have. I end the call and drop the phone onto the couch. Emily looks at me with questions

Trails that led nowhere. Logan sighed and stopped pacing of a moment. He closed his eyes and remembered the feeling of utter hopelessness and grief that he had felt when he had seen those trails and followed it, the feeling of sadness that had enveloped him when he realised that the trails were a wild goose chase which led to nowhere.