Born to Hunt, Bound to the Alpha

Eywa POV The forest feels alive tonight. Not in the quiet, familiar way it sometimes does, when the wind moves gently through the trees and everything settles into a steady, predictable rhythm but sharper. Restless. As if something beneath the surface has been disturbed and hasn’t settled back into place. Branches snap beneath heavy paws ahead of me, too loud in the dark, followed by the ragged pull of breath and the unmistakable scent of blood. He’s running. I let him. Fear makes them careless. Sloppy. It strips away instinct and replaces it with panic, and panic is easy to track. Easy to control. I learned that early, long before I was trusted to hunt alone. The moon hangs high above us, casting silver light through the canopy, catching on broken branches and torn ground, marking his path as clearly as if he wanted me to follow. He crashes through another thicket, thorns catching in his fur, a snarl ripping from his throat as the silver already working through his system begins to burn deeper. Good. That means the blade found its mark earlier. That means this is almost over. I move faster now. Not rushed, never rushed but precise, closing the distance with measured intent. A fallen log rises in my path and I vault it easily, landing without sound, already adjusting, already calculating the angle. “Run faster,” I murmur, my voice carrying just enough to reach him. He stumbles. That is all I need. I surge forward, the motion clean and practiced, and drive the blade into the side of his neck. Silver bites deep as I twist, and his body jerks violently in response, a broken sound tearing free from somewhere between a snarl and a gasp. For a moment, his eyes flare bright, furious, alive. Then they fade. Yellow dulls into amber. Amber drains into nothing. I hold him upright as the life leaves him, feeling the shift falter beneath my hand, the wolf retreating from a body that can no longer hold it. The transformation flickers once, weak and incomplete, before settling into stillness. Dead weight. I let him fall. The forest quiets around me, the tension easing in slow, subtle layers as the moment passes. For a few seconds, I simply stand there, listening. It should feel like something. It always did. A clean kill. A successful hunt. Another step closer to proving myself, to earning a place that was never given freely. But lately it doesn’t land the same. The satisfaction dulls before it fully settles, fading into something flatter, something less defined. Not gone. Just… thinner. I crouch briefly, wiping the blade clean on his shirt before straightening again, my gaze drifting beyond the body, into the deeper dark between the trees. Too quiet. Not empty. Watching. The awareness settles low, between my shoulders, sharp and immediate, nothing to do with sound and everything to do with instinct. My grip tightens slightly as my gaze moves through the shadows, scanning without turning my head too quickly. Eyes. Grey. Yellow. Green. And then... Gold. I go still. “The great Alpha,” I say softly, my voice steady despite the tension tightening beneath my skin. “I know you’re there.” Silence answers me. For a moment, nothing shifts. No movement. No sound. Then a branch gives slightly to my left. Not wind. Weight. Good. Let him watch. Let him see exactly what I am capable of. A faint pull tightens in my chest. Not fear, not hesitation, something sharper, more focused, and I lean into it instead of questioning it. With his head mounted as a trophy, the world will finally know my name. My mother would have been proud. A sharp whistle cuts through the silence. “Move!” Maris calls. “Troops are inbound!” The forest shifts again, this time clearer, no longer subtle. Movement deeper between the trees. Not just him. Others. Of course. I glance once more toward the shadows, searching for those gold eyes, but they are already gone, pulled back into the safety of the pack. Coward. The thought is automatic, familiar. Alone, he watches. With his pack, he moves. Typical. I turn and run, moving fast and low through the trees as distant howls begin to rise behind me. Not close enough to be immediate danger, but close enough that staying would be a mistake. And I don’t make mistakes that cost me control. Branches whip past as I put distance between myself and the clearing, my mind already replaying the encounter in precise detail. The angle of the kill. The shift in the forest. The presence just beyond sight. He was there. I know it. And next time... I won’t leave without him.