Wolves of the new dawn

A realisation

*Raze*

I can’t shake the tension that lingers between Freesia and me. It wraps around us, thick and heavy, as I lead her through the pack compound, showing her everything.

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the open space, but all I can focus on is her. The way her hair catches the light, the determination in her eyes as she cared for Jo. It pulls at something primal within me, a need I can’t quite articulate.

“Over here,” I say, gesturing toward the training area where a few of my packmates are honing their skills. The air is filled with the sounds of exertion and camaraderie, laughter echoing against the backdrop of the trees. I’m proud of what we’ve built here, but it all feels different with her by my side. She’s a beacon of light in this wild world, and I don’t want to frighten her with the storm raging inside me.

She glances around, taking in the sights, the makeshift arenas, and the scent of earth and sweat. “It’s… impressive,” she says, her voice steady, but I can sense the curiosity bubbling beneath the surface. “I didn’t expect this. I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

I’m grateful for the chance to show her the pack, to reveal the life I’ve fought to protect. “We do what we can to keep each other safe,” I reply, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on my shoulders. “It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it.”

“Can I ask you something… kinda personal,” she looks up at me.

I nod, “anything.”

“Why was Jo out There in the first place? In the wilderness” she asks, her brow furrowing in confusion. “How did she get hurt?”

The question brings back a wave of anger, a bitterness that runs deeper than I’d like. “She was with my… with her mother,” I explain, my tone turning somber. “They were out by the fields, just gathering herbs, when they were attacked. Drones came out of nowhere, firing shots. Jo’s mother covered her with her body. She took the hits to protect her daughter. We lost many that day, mostly women and kids.”

Freesia looks away, her expression troubled. “I can’t believe anyone would do that. It’s barbaric.”

“It’s life out here,” I reply, my voice low, but I can feel the fire in my chest. “They want to eliminate us. They think we’re a threat. But we’re just trying to live, to exist in peace.”

She turns back to me, her gaze firm. “You shouldn’t have to live like this. No one should.”

I take a step closer, my heart pounding. “You don’t know what it’s like. The fear, the constant need to look over your shoulder. But you… you’re different. You’re not part of this world, yet you’re here, fighting for Jo. It’s…” I struggle to find the right words, “It’s brave.”

Her cheeks flush, and I can see the way she wrestles with my words. She’s so strong, so capable, but I can’t help but wonder if she understands the bond that’s growing between us. I feel it in my bones, a connection that pulls me toward her, but I don’t want to scare her off. She’s human, and I’m a werewolf. The divide between our worlds feels insurmountable.

“Brave?” she repeats, her voice soft. “I’m just doing what I can. Jo is just a kid… kids are precious. I’d do anything for her… for any kid.”

“Yes,” I agree, stepping back, creating space between us. “That’s what makes you extraordinary. You have this light in you, and I can’t help but be drawn to it.”

She shakes her head, a hint of disbelief in her eyes. “I’m just trying to survive, like everyone else.”

“No.” I shake my head, my voice firm. “You’re more than that. You have a heart that fights for others, and that’s rare. You have to see that.”

Freesia looks down, her expression pensive. “I don’t know how to reconcile that with everything I’ve seen. It’s all so overwhelming.”

The moment stretches between us, filled with unspoken thoughts and emotions. I want to pull her close, to tell her that she’s safe here, that I’ll protect her no matter the cost. But I hold back, knowing that I need to give her space, to let her process everything new being thrown at her.

“Let’s get back to Jo,” I suggest, shifting the focus away from us, from this undeniable connection. “She hasn’t pulled through yet, and we can’t lose sight of that.”

Freesia nods, her expression softening, and we begin to walk back toward my little girls room, a room that will hopefully soon be full of laughter again.

Freesia suddenly stops and eyes widen, shock radiating from her, clearly something just dawned on her. “Wait, drones? Who has drones out here?”

I can feel the tension in the air shift, the reality of our situation hitting her like a punch to the gut. “The city,” I say, bitterness lacing my words. “Your city.”