THE WOLF’S CURSE

Chapter 11

Alec

I feel like I’m losing my mind.

I kept staring at the yellow eyes in the shadows until they vanished—or maybe I imagined them. My heart is still pounding, my hands trembling as I run them through my hair. The fire has burned down to glowing embers, their light barely reaching the edge of the clearing, and the forest feels darker now, heavier, like it’s closing in around me.

I crawl into my tent, zipping it shut behind me, and curl up in my sleeping bag. The fabric is thin, but it’s enough to keep the chill at bay. Still, I can’t stop shivering.

I know I said I’d stay here for six days, really connect with this place, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe it’s a mistake. Maybe I should leave tomorrow, head back, and get out of here as fast as I can.

This place… it’s starting to do something to me.

And that woman—what if she’s not even real? What if I’m hallucinating? I haven’t eaten anything strange in the woods, haven’t drunk the water here, and I haven’t been bitten by any strange bugs. But something is definitely off here. Even more so on the summit than down below.

What really has me on edge, though, is my conversation with Jamie earlier.

She told me that David Warren, who’s been on leave for three weeks, got back into the office today. The minute she told him where I’d gone, he voiced his concerns.

“Don’t you two ever watch the news?” he’d said, his voice sharp with worry. “The Black Forest is a no-go zone right now. A group of people were slaughtered there two months ago by wild animals. They haven’t been able to find them.”

Jamie was terrified, and now she’s got me feeling like I should be scared too.

I hold myself tighter in my sleeping bag, curling into a ball. I had assured her I was fine, that everything was fine, but she could hear through the lie. She knows me too well.

“I’ll head back tomorrow,” I’d told her, my voice steady despite the knot in my chest. “I’ll start descending. Don’t worry, Jamie. Everything will be fine. I’ll see you soon.”

But even as I said the words, I wasn’t sure I believed them.

I close my eyes, trying to steady my breathing, but the images keep flashing in my mind—the woman by the stream, the glowing eyes in the shadows, the growl I heard earlier. It’s too much.

Tomorrow. I’ll start heading back. Back to Jamie. Back to home.

The thought is a small comfort, but it’s enough to calm my racing heart. I take a deep breath, letting the sound of the wind and the rustle of leaves lull me into a restless sleep.

One second, I’m fast asleep, the weight of exhaustion pulling me under. The next, I’m jolted awake by a sharp tug on my sleeping bag.

My eyes snap open, but it’s pitch black inside the tent, and I can’t see a thing. Before I can process what’s happening, I’m yanked hard, the fabric of the sleeping bag tightening around me as I’m dragged across the ground.

“What the—!” I shout, my voice cracking with panic.

The tent collapses around me, the poles snapping as I’m pulled through the opening. Cold air hits my face, and I thrash wildly, my arms flailing as I try to grab onto something, anything, to stop myself. But there’s nothing—just dirt and rocks scraping against my back as I’m dragged across the ground.

Growling fills the air, low and guttural, and I catch glimpses of dark shapes moving around me, their eyes glowing in the moonlight. Snarls echo through the clearing, sharp and vicious, and I realize with a jolt of terror that I’m surrounded.

“Get off me!” I scream, my voice raw and desperate. I kick out, my foot connecting with something solid, but it doesn’t let go. The grip on my sleeping bag tightens, and I’m pulled faster, the ground rushing beneath me in a blur of darkness and chaos.

My heart is pounding, my breath coming in ragged gasps, and I can’t think, can’t focus. All I know is that I need to get free.

And then, suddenly, I stop.

The grip on my sleeping bag releases, and I’m left lying on the ground, disoriented and gasping for air. I sit up, my body trembling, and frantically look around. The forest is dark, the trees looming like shadows, and I can’t see anything beyond the faint glow of the moon.

My mind races, trying to make sense of what just happened, but it’s all a blur—the growling, the snarling, the feeling of being dragged like prey.

My phone.

I remember it’s in my pocket, and I fumble to pull it out, my hands shaking so badly I almost drop it. I switch on the flashlight, the beam cutting through the darkness, and shine it in front of me.

And there, just a few meters away, I see them.

Six pairs of glowing eyes, staring back at me.

Wolves.

My breath catches in my throat, and I swallow hard, my grip tightening on the phone. They’re massive, their fur dark and matted, their teeth bared in snarls that send chills down my spine.

Before I can react, one of them lunges.

It happens so fast I barely have time to scream. The wolf is on me in an instant, its weight slamming into my chest and knocking me to the ground. I feel its teeth sink into my hand, sharp and searing, and I cry out in pain, the sound echoing through the forest.

Is this how I die?