Chapter Seven: The Wolf’s Instinct
985 Words
The forest was a blur of shadows and moonlight as Elara ran, her breath coming in sharp gasps. The underbrush tore at her cloak, but she didn’t slow down. Behind her, she could hear Kael’s footsteps, heavy and relentless. Her wolf, Lyssa, stirred inside her, urging her to run faster, hide deeper. But she couldn’t shift—not with the child growing inside her. The risk was too great.
A branch snapped under her foot, and she stumbled, catching herself against a tree. The bark bit into her palms, grounding her. She couldn’t afford to falter. Kael was too close, his scent—pine and storm—filling her nostrils, making her wolf whine in conflict. Part of her still craved that scent, still remembered the way it had once meant safety. But that was before. Before the rejection. Before the betrayal.
She pushed off the tree and kept running, her legs burning with exhaustion. The forest thinned ahead, giving way to a rocky outcropping. She scrambled up the slope, her fingers finding purchase in the cracks. At the top, she paused, her chest heaving. Below her, the forest stretched endlessly, but she could see a faint glow in the distance—a rogue fire.
Elara’s heart pounded. She didn’t know who was out there, but it was her only chance. She slid down the other side of the outcropping, her boots kicking up loose stones. The fire grew closer, the scent of smoke and herbs filling the air. A cave entrance yawned before her, the flickering light casting long shadows on the walls.
She hesitated. This could be a trap. But it could also be salvation.
A growl echoed from the darkness inside the cave. Elara froze, her hand going to the dagger at her belt. Then, a voice—female and wary—cut through the silence.
"Who’s there?"
Elara stepped forward, her hands raised. "A rogue. I mean no harm."
A figure emerged from the shadows—a woman with dark braids and a spear. Her eyes narrowed as she took in Elara’s cloak, her trembling hands.
"You’re not one of Dain’s hunters," the woman said, her voice low. "But you’re not one of us, either."
Elara swallowed. "I was. Once. Before my pack cast me out."
The woman studied her for a long moment, then stepped aside. "Come in. But don’t expect trust."
Elara followed her into the cave, the warmth of the fire washing over her. The space was larger than it seemed from outside, with bedrolls and supplies scattered around. A few other rogues—two men and another woman—watched her warily.
The woman with the spear crossed her arms. "Name?"
"Elara."
"A pack name?"
Elara shook her head. "Not anymore."
The woman—Mira, as she introduced herself—nodded. "Then you’re one of us now. For as long as you need."
Elara exhaled, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. But she couldn’t relax. Kael was still out there. And Dain’s hunters were closer than she wanted to admit.
Kael stopped at the edge of the forest, his chest heaving. He could still smell her—lavender and honey, faint but unmistakable. His wolf, Varg, snarled inside him, urging him to chase, claim, protect. But he held back. Something was wrong.
He crouched, his fingers brushing the ground. The scent was fresh, but it led toward the rocky outcropping. And beyond that—smoke.
Kael’s jaw clenched. Rogue territory. If Elara had gone there, she was either desperate or foolish. But he knew her. She wasn’t foolish.
A twig snapped behind him, and he spun, his claws unsheathing. Riven stepped out of the shadows, his expression grim.
"Alpha," Riven said, his voice low. "We found tracks. Dain’s hunters are close."
Kael’s blood ran cold. If Dain found Elara first—
"We need to move," Riven said. "Now."
Kael didn’t answer. He turned back toward the outcropping, his mind racing. He could storm the rogue den, demand they hand Elara over. But that would start a fight, and he couldn’t risk her getting hurt.
Or he could wait. Let her think she was safe. Then take her when Dain’s hunters weren’t a threat.
But the thought of leaving her out there, unprotected, made his chest tighten.
Riven stepped beside him. "What’s the plan?"
Kael’s gaze was fixed on the distant glow of the fire. "We watch. And we wait for our moment."
Back in the cave, Elara sat by the fire, her hands wrapped around a bowl of stew Mira had given her. The warmth seeped into her bones, but her mind was still racing. She couldn’t stay here forever. But where could she go?
Mira sat across from her, her spear leaning against the cave wall. "You’re running from someone."
Elara didn’t look up. "Yes."
"Your mate?"
Elara’s fingers tightened around the bowl. "Former mate."
Mira’s expression softened. "Ah. That kind of pain."
Elara finally met her gaze. "He’s not the only one after me. There’s another Alpha—Dain of Bloodmoon. He’s been taking she-wolves. Forcing them to... bear heirs."
Mira’s eyes darkened. "We’ve heard rumors. But no one’s dared go near Bloodmoon territory."
Elara’s stomach twisted. "He’s coming for me. For my child."
Mira was silent for a long moment. Then, she reached into her pouch and pulled out a small vial. "Drink this. It’ll mask your scent for a few more hours."
Elara took it, her fingers brushing the cool glass. "Thank you."
Mira nodded. "But you can’t stay here. If Dain’s hunters find this place, we’re all dead."
Elara knew she was right. She had to keep moving. But where?
A howl echoed in the distance—too close.
Mira’s grip tightened on her spear. "They’re here."
Elara stood, her heart pounding. She couldn’t lead them to these rogues. She had to run again.
But this time, she wouldn’t be alone.
- Writer
