The Lycan’s Forbidden Mate

CHAPTER 002

CHAPTER 002

The morning air cut into Sandra's bare skin while she remained in a low position on the snow-covered ground. A sudden gust of wind blew dark hair across her eyes. She blew air through her nostrils to move the hair, but the strands refused to stay out of her face.

She released her breath slowly while the vapor rose from her mouth like wisps of smoke. She maintained her hold on the Carslen 500 Shotgun while disregarding the freezing temperature that had penetrated her body since the beginning of her watch. The icy surface beneath her feet made no sound that she could detect anymore.

She spent three hours in complete waiting. Watching.

The forest was unnervingly quiet. She lifted her hand to verify that her hearing devices were operational because the forest silence was so intense. The silence around her felt uncomfortable because it differed from her typical experience with wind noises and distant animal sounds.

The storm from the previous night had ended its path, leaving behind a peaceful snowfall that floated gently between the empty tree branches. The winter season of Frostholm brought animals into either migration or denning behavior.

Game was growing scarce.

Hunting was Sandra's only source of income, so the dwindling animal population began to affect her financial stability. Her emergency savings were her only backup plan because she needed to secure a major hunting kill before depleting them.

That wasn’t an option.

She needed a clean kill. She required a substantial kill. The price at Nikolaj’s butcher shop would reach at least two thousand for such a catch. The money would sustain her household expenses for electricity, heating, and food during the upcoming months.

The shotgun grip felt cold and stiff as her fingers tightened against it. The lack of a kill today might force her to switch to carpentry, which she performed adequately but despised working in the frigid temperatures.

The idea of working with frozen logs in her shed while sanding them for weeks ahead made her body tremble. During The Hunter’s Moon preparation, winter survival took precedence over handcrafted furniture purchases in Frostholm.

She needed this kill.

A dark shape appeared in the corner of her eyes.

Sandra froze completely as her body pressed against the snow. She controlled her breath to the point where she could hardly release any air.

A massive figure emerged from the darkness.

Her heartbeat kicked up.

A moose.

A bull.

Alone.

The massive animal moved through the snow with its dark, muscular hide rippling. The antlers extended like a royal crown to showcase its dominant strength. The enormous size of the animal caused her heart to race.

She studied the animal's movement as its long legs propelled it forward effortlessly. The animal's thick feet pushed down on the snow, which broke the surrounding silence. The animal lowered its head to find hidden grass beneath the frozen ground.

The wind blew swiftly between the tree branches.

Sandra readjusted her shotgun against the wooden block she had crafted from wood. She observed the moose's movements by looking through the scope.

It paused.

Did it sense her?

She took a deep breath before reaching for her hearing devices located at the back of her head. She located the familiar buttons on the hearing devices with her fingers. A quick press.

Silence.

She performed the same action on the opposite side. The world consisted only of the moose and Sandra at this moment.

No distractions.

No hesitation.

The moose lowered its head to reveal the perfect aiming position.

She covered her right eye to line up the crosshairs with her intended target.

She adjusted the scope position to place it behind the front leg before selecting the precise spot that would result in a quick and clean kill.

Sandra dedicated five years to hunting activities. Through years of experience, she mastered the body structure of her targets, her bullet speed, and the precise distance needed for instant death.

Any misstep during hunting would result in a prolonged suffering experience for the animal. A mistake during this process could result in the moose attacking her with uncontrollable fury.

A successful hunt required a precise and quick kill.

Her grip on the trigger became stronger.

The moose lifted its head.

She lost her job.

The gunshot blasted through the forest silence, creating a thunderous noise.

Sandra didn’t hear it.

The Carslen 500 shotgun delivered a powerful recoil that burned through her shoulder as it struck her shoulder pad. Her breath caught as her fingers clamped down on the stock of the weapon.

She observed through the scope as the moose experienced a violent reaction that caused it to stumble backward. The animal's powerful legs, which had previously moved with certainty, now lost their ability to support it. The weapon hit the snow surface with a muffled heavy sound two seconds after impact.

She experienced a wave of relief.

She released a slow breath through parted lips while observing the calmness that descended upon the dead animal. Her heart pounded in her chest, the lingering adrenaline making her fingers tremble.

She had done it.

She lifted herself from the frozen earth by pushing against the ground while sliding her shotgun onto her shoulder to brush off the snow from her jacket. The frost crunched under her boots as she walked toward the kill while her breath formed visible clouds.

A solitary snowflake settled on her ear.

Sandra hesitated.

Her previous surge of excitement transformed into a different sensation as she approached the kill. Each step she took toward the kill made her movements increasingly slow.

It wasn’t dead yet.

The moose's hind legs continued to twitch because its body retained the natural instinct to flee. The wide snout of the animal released weak breaths, which produced thin heat waves in the freezing environment. The animal's black eyes gazed upward at the sky while its dark, glossy eyes remained unseeing.

A deep red stain spread from beneath its body while remaining confined to the untouched white area.

Sandra knelt beside the animal.

She extended her gloved hand to touch the animal's dense fur with gentle fingers. The texture of its fur proved harsher than its appearance suggested and felt scratchy when she touched it. She detected the sluggish and uneven breathing pattern of its chest as well as the subtle vibrations that moved through its body.

Her throat tightened.

She had practiced taking shots numerous times in the past. It wasn’t new. She did not avoid this situation. The period before death's arrival brought her a heavy burden in her chest through its quietness and stillness and final fight.

Her hand stayed there, unmoving.

The moose completed its last breath, which was barely noticeable.

And then it stopped.

The weight of it settled.

Sandra paused with her eyes shut before she removed her hand.

The job wasn’t finished yet.

A noisy blue truck entered Nikolaj’s driveway while making loud noises against the freezing temperature.

Sandra turned off the engine and then pushed the door open while the metal hinges made loud noises before she jumped onto the icy ground.

The butcher's door opened at the exact moment she approached.

The butcher greeted the young girl with "Hey kid" while using his bloodsoaked hands to clean his apron, which was already beyond repair. "Been a while."

A grin tugged at her lips. "Brought you something good."

She walked around the truck to open its rear compartment while the metal gate made a loud thud as it descended halfway. The dead moose extended across the truck bed while its massive body barely managed to fit within the space.

Nikolaj released a deep, prolonged whistle through his teeth. "Damn."

She mock-bowed with a dramatic wave of her hands. "Behold."

The butcher approached the carcass while inspecting it with the experienced gaze of someone who had spent too many years in this trade.

He asked with astonishment, "Where did you discover this?" He removed his Copenhagen FC cap from his head to scratch his bald spot while asking the question. People believed all the animals had relocated to northern territories.

Sandra smirked. "Guess this one got lost."

The process of loading it onto the truck proved to be an extremely difficult task.

She chained its hind legs before constructing a sloped loading platform, which she pulled into position using the truck's slow speed. She pushed with all her strength to position the animal despite the intense effort required.

Nikolaj broke into laughter while shaking his head. The Governor will be thrilled to see this delivery.

Sandra kept her hands in gloves while she blew on them as another strong wind blew through the town.

The butcher asked, "What do you think this animal weighs?"

The butcher studied it once more while he worked out the weight in his mind.

"Big bull," he muttered. He estimated the weight to be approximately seven hundred fifty kilograms. The butcher expects to finish dressing the meat at four thirty after weighing it at seven fifty kilos. The meat should yield approximately twenty kilograms."

Before Sandra could complete her mental math, Nikolaj placed his large hand on her shoulder while chuckling.

"That’s two grand, kid."

A slow, satisfied grin spread across her face.

He motioned toward the shop with his head. "Go inside; warm up. Head inside Freja’s to get whatever you require. On me."

Sandra blinked. "Are you serious?"

He expressed his gratitude with a single statement. "Stock your fridge. The total should not exceed eighty dollars.

The raw meat and sweat odor on his body prevented her from giving him a hug.

The grocery store's warmth caused Sandra's skin to react as she removed her jacket.

She used her boots to stamp the mat while removing snow from her coat.

Freja stood at the cash register while she focused intensely on her manga. She ignored everything around her as she kept her AirPods in her ears.

She acknowledged him with a subtle head movement after their eyes connected.

Sandra responded with a minimal smile.

She took a basket to start filling it with basic items, including vegetables, chicken, jasmine rice, soap, and a thick pair of woolen socks.

She paused to consider adding the tiny red kitty bowl, which featured a paw print design on its front.

The entrance bell started ringing.

Sandra kept her eyes on the floor when she entered the store.

Then she heard the voice.

"...lockdown starts earlier this time."

She clutched the basket more firmly.

She lifted her eyes at the right moment to witness Nikolaj enter the store while a familiar person trailed behind him.

Erik.

The butcher listened to Nikolaj as he stood relaxed with his brown eyes showing keenness. His face showed a hint of amusement while discussing important matters.

Sandra’s pulse quickened.

She took shelter behind the aisle after realizing her mistake too late.

But not fast enough.

"Sandra?"

His voice embraced her name with a tone that made her spine tingle without her permission.

Damn it.

She rotated her body with deliberate slowness while she controlled her facial expressions to appear mildly surprised.

"Erik," she greeted.

He smiled, stepping closer. "How are you?"

"Fine."

"Nikolaj showed me your kill." His expression showed a brief flash of appreciation. "Hell of a shot."

She adjusted her posture to clarify the "game shot" and slightly moved her chin..

He repeated "Game shot" while examining her face. His eyes shifted to the items in her basket. "Chicken tonight?"

Sandra blinked.

She glanced at the items she carried in her hands.

"Oh. Uh—maybe?" She cleared her throat, flustered. "I mean—yes, if I have time. Do you like chicken?"

His mouth twitched slightly at the corner.

"I do."

She began scratching her wrist as she said, "You could come over for a simple friendly dinner if you're available." If you're free."

His expression shifted.

She briefly considered that he might accept her invitation.

Then his jaw tightened.

He replied, "I'll need to postpone this until another time because the full moon arrives tomorrow." "The full moon’s tomorrow."

Sandra stiffened.

She didn’t need the reminder.

Numerous posters covered the town. Radio broadcasts warned the townspeople. The television screens displayed nonstop warnings throughout the day.

The Hunter’s Moon.

She needed to start boarding up her windows and reinforcing her doors before the day ended. Wolfsbane served as a defensive measure to surround her house in an effort to protect herself from the beast.

She swallowed. "How early is the lockdown?"

"Four."

Sandra’s brows furrowed. "It’s usually six."

Erik spoke with a somber voice when he said, "Storm’s coming in." The authorities want everyone to stay indoors before nightfall.

She held the basket tightly in her grip. "How many nights?"

"One," he said. "Hopefully."

It wasn’t always one.

During certain nights, the moon stayed visible in the sky for longer periods. The beast prowled longer, searching.

The beast hunted during the night, so some individuals failed to survive until sunrise.

Sandra exhaled, her breath unsteady.

Erik extended his hand to say he would visit at noon. A brief flick of his fingers gently touched her chin. "Help you lock up."

Her stomach twisted.

He continued by saying we might finally have the opportunity to eat together.

Sandra’s breath caught.

He left before she could respond.

She held the basket with greater force.

Outside, the wind howled.

Would this time be different? Would the town survive?