THE WOLF’S CURSE

Chapter 13

Alec

The second I step out of the cave, I freeze dead in my tracks.

There, a few feet away from me, stands the woman—the one who’s been following me, the one with the glowing yellow eyes. She’s naked, her tanned skin glistening faintly in the morning light, and her gaze is locked on me, intense and unblinking. Her body is tense, her jaw tight, and she looks like she’s ready to pounce at any moment.

I stutter, my breath catching in my throat, and stumble back into the cave until I hit the hard, damp wall. My legs give out, and I sink to the ground, my injured hand clutched to my chest. The searing, throbbing pain in my arm makes me clench my jaw, and my teeth chatter as my body shakes uncontrollably.

Why is she here? What the hell is going on?

I stare at the entrance of the cave, my heart pounding, as she slowly steps inside. Her movements are deliberate, almost predatory, and she never takes her eyes off me.

“Get out!” I shout, my voice raspy and broken. “Go away!”

She stops, her brows furrowing as she tilts her head slightly, studying me. Her gaze drops to my hand, the one I’m clutching to my chest, and her lips part.

“You’re hurt,” she says, her voice soft but with an edge that sends a shiver down my spine.

I blink, my mind struggling to process her words. “Yeah, I’m f*****g hurt,” I snap, my voice trembling. “Who are you? And why have you been following me?”

She ignores my questions, her eyes still fixed on my hand. Slowly, she starts to move toward me again, her movements fluid and unhurried. My body tenses, and I flinch away, pressing myself harder against the cave wall.

She stops when she’s right in front of me, crouching down on her knees. Her eyes lift to mine, and for a moment, we just stare at each other. She’s so close now that I can see the flecks of gold in her glowing yellow eyes, the way her dark hair falls in wild waves around her face.

“Let me see,” she says, her voice calm but firm.

My jaw clenches, and I shake my head, my grip tightening on my injured hand. “No,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Stay away from me.”

But she doesn’t move. Instead, she reaches out, her hand hovering just above mine, and her eyes lock onto mine again.

“Let me see,” she repeats, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Reluctantly, I unclench my grasp on my hand, allowing her to take it in hers. Her touch is soft, gentle, and surprisingly warm, and I gasp at the sensation. My eyes stay locked on her as she carefully assesses the injury, her brows creasing in concentration.

“I was attacked by a wolf,” I ramble, my voice shaky. “It dragged me from my tent. There were a bunch of them.”

My eyes lower to the gashes in my hand. The bleeding seems to have stopped, but the burning sensation is something else entirely. It’s as if it’s only getting worse, not easing.

She doesn’t respond, her focus entirely on my hand. Slowly, she turns it over to inspect the gash on the other side. Her jaw clenches, and she lets out a small puff of air, as if she’s deep in thought.

“I have a medical kit in my bag, back at my camp,” I say, my voice trembling. “If I can get to it, I can clean the wounds and—”

Her eyes trail up to mine, and she frowns. “It’s not going to help.”

I blink, my jaw tightening. “What?”

She looks back at my hand, her expression grim. “Your wounds… they’re deep. I was hoping they were superficial.”

I stare at her, my mind racing. Here I had thought this girl couldn’t speak English or didn’t understand me yesterday, but she speaks it perfectly.

“The wounds are deep, but I’ll be fine the minute I get to a hospital,” I say, trying to sound confident. “I’ll probably need a tetanus shot, not sure about rabies—”

Her eyes shoot up to mine, cutting me off. “You’re going to die.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I blink, stunned. I look down at my hand again. Yeah, sure, the gashes are deep, and it looks gruesome, but it’s just my hand. It’s not an injury bad enough to kill me.

“It’s just my hand,” I say, my voice rising. “I’ll be fine.”

She shakes her head, her expression serious, and I pull my hand away from her, clutching it protectively against my chest.

“Who are you?” I demand, my voice sharp with frustration and fear.

She looks up at me, her hand moving to rest against her bare chest, her dark hair falling over her shoulders. “Ava,” she says simply. “My name is Ava.”

I swallow hard and nod. “I’m Alec.”

She gives me a faint smile, almost apologetic. “Nice to meet you, Alec.”

I frown at her, my jaw tightening. “Wish I could say the same.”

Her smile falters, and she lowers her eyes, her jaw clenching.

“Why are you here?” I ask, my voice softer now but still edged with suspicion. “In this forest—naked. Are you lost? In trouble?”

She looks up at me, shaking her head. “I live here,” she says, her voice steady. “This forest is my home.”

For a moment, we just stare at each other, the weight of her words hanging in the air. The forest is her home? What does that even mean?