Fleeing from the wolf hunter
757 Words
RORY
I sit there, trembling.
The wolfsbane stings my palm long after I drop it.
I don't want to believe it. I can't.
But as I slowly place everything back in Kaelin’s toolbox—those silver chains, strange vials, that dagger that could slice through my skin like paper—it all starts to click into place. Every quiet moment. Every time he disappeared. Every time he came back smelling like ash and iron and herbs I couldn’t recognize.
Kaelin… is a hunter.
A werewolf hunter.
My breath catches. My entire body goes cold. I’ve been sleeping beside danger this whole time. Eating the food he cooked. Letting him touch me. Let him inside me.
I stagger back from the toolbox like it’s about to bite me.
I want to scream, but I don’t. I can’t. Because if he knows I’ve found out—what happens then?
I clutch my chest, swallowing down the bile rising in my throat. My wolf stirs faintly—or maybe it's just my imagination—almost as if she senses the danger. But she doesn't rise. She never has.
And for the first time in weeks, I’m grateful for that.
Because if my wolf had awakened… if I had shifted even once… he would’ve known. He would’ve killed me.
I’ve been invisible to him. Undetectable. That’s the only reason I’m still alive.
I shake my head as I stand up and dust my palm.
I can’t stay.
Not when I know what he is.
Even if my heart still lurches when I think of his touch… even if I… love him?
I’ve been through too much to just lie down and let the enemy kill me.
I turn to the bag containing my clothes.
Should I pack?
Or, no. He'll notice I'm gone if I do. And maybe he'll try to find me. If I don't, he'll think I've gone to the stream, and that will buy me time. I glance at him once—Kaelin, still asleep, face softened by sleep, like he’s not the very reason my life is at risk.
I want to kiss him goodbye. But what if he wakes up while I'm at it?
Maybe he would never hurt me. Maybe everything was real.
But maybe isn’t enough anymore.
I can’t go back. The pack will kill me. The Pack's members would rip me apart. Kaelin might change his mind any day.
So I go forward.
Into the north. Into the Moon Realm, where danger is legend, where no wolf returns the same or returns at all.
At least there, if I die… it’ll be by a wolf’s teeth. Familiar. Honorable. A death that makes sense.
But I’ve escaped death too many times to fear it now.
So I run.
Not because I’m fearless.
But because I’m scared.
Of what Kaelin might do. Of what I might feel if he tries to stop me or if I know I'm dying with his dagger in my skin. Of what lies ahead in the unknown.
Still, I run.
Because survival demands it.
Father's death can't be in vain. I can't give up until I know I tried.
I run and run and run towards the north until the sun rises up so bright that it's at the center of the sky, not even daring to stop and take a breath, the desperation and adrenaline spurring me.
I don’t stop running.
Branches s***h at my arms, thorns tear at my legs, but I keep going—faster, harder, like if I pause for even a second, everything will crush me.
Then, suddenly… the forest shifts.
The trees look the same, but the air changes. It’s thicker. Darker. Like I’ve crossed some invisible line.
Like I’ve stepped into a rift between worlds.
My breath catches as a low growl vibrates through the silence, halting me.
Then—bam!
Something slams into me. Claws. Fur. Teeth. Pain.
And everything goes black.
.
.
.
When I wake, it’s freezing.
My cheek is pressed to stone, rough and cold. My limbs ache. I try to move but the sound of chains rattling and pain stops me.
Panic kicks in fast, wrapping around my chest like a vice.
I blink, trying to adjust to the dim blue light dripping from a corner torch.
A dungeon?
Shit.
A real one.
My eyes take in everything around me.
Iron bars. Bloodstains. The faint, constant drip of water echoing from somewhere I can’t see.
I’m not dead.
But maybe I should be.
Because, where am I?!
- Writer
