The Silver Blooded Omega

Thalia had been tracking the deer since sunrise. It had crossed the same stretch of forest twice, doubled back near a stream, and disappeared into a thicket thick enough to tear the skin from her arms. She had followed its tracks anyway. She was hungry. That was reason enough. The forest had been stingy lately. Small game had grown harder to find, and the last rabbit she'd caught had barely lasted a day. She couldn't afford to waste this opportunity. She crouched behind a fallen tree and watched the clearing. The deer emerged between two pines, its head lowered as it searched the ground. Thalia waited until it turned sideways. Then she moved. The arrow struck behind its shoulder. The deer bolted, crashing through the undergrowth, and Thalia followed the trail until she found it down beside a cluster of rocks. She let out a slow breath. Finally. She had barely begun dragging it toward the path when a familiar voice came from behind her. "Well, look at that." Thalia closed her eyes for a moment. Matt. He stepped around the rocks, his gaze settling on the deer before moving to her. His grin widened. "You've been busy." "Keep walking." He laughed. "That's no way to greet someone." "We're not friends." "No, we're not." He moved toward the deer. Thalia caught his arm. "Don't." His expression changed. The amusement remained, but something meaner settled beneath it. "Let go." She held on. He struck her hard enough to send her stumbling into the rocks. Pain flashed across her cheek. Before she could recover, he seized the deer by its hind legs and dragged it away. "Finders keepers, Thalia." She pushed herself upright, blood warming the corner of her mouth. For a moment, she considered going after him. Then she looked at the distance between them, the knife at his belt, and the way he was already reaching for it. Not worth it. Matt disappeared between the trees with her deer. Thalia wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stood still until the anger settled into something more useful. She would find something else. She always did. The forest was quiet when she turned toward the stream. She needed water, and the narrow shelter she'd made beneath a fallen pine wasn't far from there. She had taken only a few steps when a sound stopped her. A growl. Not the low warning of an ordinary wolf. This one was rough and uneven, followed by a strangled breath that sounded almost human. Thalia crouched. Another sound came from farther uphill. Boots against stone. "Spread out," a man ordered. "He can't have gone far." Thalia went still. A second man answered, his voice carrying through the trees. "You saw what he did to the last one. Keep your distance." Something heavy crashed through the undergrowth. Then came the growl again, closer this time. Thalia should have left. Whatever was happening wasn't her business. She had no pack, no allies, and no reason to involve herself in trouble that belonged to someone else. She had survived this long by understanding one simple thing: other people's problems had a way of becoming hers. She turned away. A sharp, pained sound came from the stream. Thalia stopped. "Please," someone rasped. The word was so faint she almost thought she'd imagined it. She looked toward the water. Then, swearing under her breath, she changed direction. The stream narrowed between two rocky banks, its surface broken by exposed roots and fallen branches. Thalia followed it downstream, keeping low until she saw the wolf. He lay half in the water, his enormous body pressed against the bank. His coat was black mixed with grey, darkened by blood and soaked through along his side. Every breath seemed to cost him something. Thalia had seen wolves before. She had never seen one this large. A dark wound marked his chest, just below the shoulder. Its edges were angry and unnatural, the surrounding fur burned away in places. Blood seeped from it in slow, uneven pulses. Then she saw the metal embedded near his heart. Silver. Her stomach tightened. Silver wounds were dangerous even to ordinary wolves. In a creature this size, the damage was frightening. The wolf lifted his head. His eyes found hers. For several seconds, neither moved. Thalia could have left him there. She could have returned to her shelter, found another meal, and pretended she'd never heard the hunters. Instead, she glanced toward the trees. The men were getting closer. The wolf tried to rise. His forelegs trembled, and he collapsed against the bank with a sound that made something tighten painfully in her chest. "Don't," she whispered. "You'll make it worse." His lips pulled back from his teeth. Thalia froze. Even dying, he was dangerous. She slowly lowered her hands and took a step backward. "Fine. Die here, then." She turned. A branch snapped behind her. "Check the water!" one of the hunters shouted. Thalia looked back at the wolf. If the men found him, they would finish what they'd started. And if they discovered her beside him, she had no reason to believe they'd let her walk away. She could still leave. Instead, she pulled the knife from her belt. "Listen to me," she whispered, moving closer. "I'm not doing this because I like you." The wolf's eyes remained fixed on her. "You're going to have to help me." She gripped his foreleg and pulled. He was impossibly heavy. His body barely moved, and the effort sent pain shooting through her bruised shoulder. Thalia bit back a curse and tried again, dragging him toward a narrow gap between the rocks. The wolf gave a low, strained growl. "Yes, well, I'm having a terrible day too." She managed to pull him behind the rocks just as the hunters reached the opposite bank. Two men emerged through the trees. One carried a crossbow. The other held a long blade that caught the light. Thalia pressed herself against the stone, keeping the wolf hidden behind her. She could feel his labored breathing against her back. "Blood leads this way," the man with the blade said. "Then keep following it." Their footsteps approached the water. Thalia tightened her grip on the knife. The wolf shifted behind her, and she felt warm blood seep onto her fingers. She looked down. It was everywhere. She had spent her entire life learning when to run, when to fight, and when to make herself invisible. But she had never been good at watching something suffer when she could do something about it. The hunters moved closer. Thalia turned toward the wolf. His breathing was growing weaker. The silver embedded in his chest glinted faintly beneath the blood. She didn't know his name. She didn't know why the hunters wanted him dead. She didn't even know whether he would attack her the moment he recovered. But she couldn't leave him like this. Thalia placed one trembling hand against his chest. "Stay alive," she whispered. His heartbeat fluttered beneath her palm, weak and uneven. She could feel it growing fainter with every passing second, and for the first time, Thalia wondered if she was already too late to save him.