Trapped in a Wolf Novel

Chapter 6

The sun filtered through the branches as I stepped out of the tent, leaving behind the stifling darkness and the weight of my confinement. Outside, the camp was beginning to awaken. In the distance, a few men laughed and chatted as they readied their weapons and prepared the horses. I looked around, trying to orient myself in this strange place.

A burly man with a scruffy beard approached me without a word and shackled my wrists with a pair of iron cuffs. Silently, he led me to a tree near the river. A few meters away, several women were busy cooking, their movements quick and practiced. Some of them glanced at me from the corner of their eyes, whispering among themselves. My first impression was that they were all just mercenaries, but a closer look revealed something different: this wasn’t a simple band of warriors; it was a community.

“I see you have some company,” said a female voice beside me.

I turned and found a tall, slender young woman with bright eyes and a friendly smile. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, and there was something in her gaze that made me feel a sliver of comfort. She introduced herself with ease.

“I’m Nataly. And you?”

I hesitated, unsure if I should respond. But her tone was so friendly that I decided not to be rude.

“Carolina,” I murmured, eyeing her cautiously.

She nodded and crouched down beside me, as if our conversation was the most natural thing in the world.

“I heard you had an... interesting night,” she said, raising her eyebrows with a mischievous smile. I felt a wave of embarrassment as I looked at her in surprise. “Miss Prisoner, word gets around.”

I saw the glint of curiosity in her eyes, and I knew there was no way to hide it. After all, my wild wolf had made our night an unforgettable story.

“Oh, you know, something like that,” I replied, chuckling awkwardly and trying to appear indifferent.

“You’re lucky,” she said, as if it were a fact. “Not everyone has their first heat so close to our leader.”

Lucky? I thought, feeling Eva stirring with excitement in my mind. To me, it seemed more like he was the lucky one. But Nataly said it as if I’d been granted an honor. The mindset here felt rooted in another time, with traditions I could hardly understand.

“Uh-huh, very lucky,” I replied sarcastically, thinking about how ironic it was that, instead of seducing him myself, my nymphomaniac wolf had taken control. Not that I was complaining, of course.

As we spoke, I noticed a group of men near the river, about twenty meters away. Among them was him—the infamous white-haired alpha, impossible to miss. Although they were busy with their tasks, my eyes found him immediately, as if drawn to him by some unseen force. Ezra stood there, wet up to his shoulders, with his clothes clinging to his body. I couldn’t help but notice his muscular, solid frame, something that seemed to be a source of pride for all the men here.

“Your wolf is lucky,” Nataly remarked, giving me a playful nudge. “Not every woman has a story like that to tell.”

Before I could respond, I saw Ezra approaching us. His stern expression silenced me instantly. Even with wet hair and damp skin, there was nothing relaxed in his gaze. He looked at me as if I were a mystery to be solved.

“Where are you from?” he asked, his tone leaving no room for evasion.

I stared at him, not wanting to reveal anything that could expose how little I knew about this world. I thought quickly and replied with the only information I had.

“From the north,” I answered, keeping my gaze steady, hoping it would be enough.

He frowned, clearly unsatisfied with my brief answer.

“Do you have a name, or should I keep calling you ‘the prisoner’?” he insisted.

“Carolina,” I replied, holding my ground.

Ezra scrutinized me as if trying to decipher some hidden meaning in my words. I held firm, though my mind was a storm, frantically trying to recall any details I knew about his character. I knew I had to be careful; any slip could give me away.

“What were you doing in that forest?” he asked again, his eyes never leaving mine.

I bit my lip, searching for the right words. I knew each one had to be measured and considered.

“Walking… searching for answers,” I said, as vaguely as possible, hoping he wouldn’t press further.

Ezra looked at me with a mix of skepticism and curiosity, as if he were trying to decipher what kind of answer that was. Though his expression remained severe, I saw a brief spark of something—interest, perhaps.

“Well, Carolina from the north, looking for answers,” he finally said, sarcasm lacing his voice. “Stay right here.”

Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving me with Nataly, who looked at me with an amused smile.

“You definitely make an impression on him,” she teased, nudging me again. “Ezra isn’t usually this... inquisitive with prisoners.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling his interrogation had left me with.

“Impression? Yeah, the same kind of impression a dog makes when it finds a rock in its path,” I replied, making a face.

Nataly burst out laughing, and although her laughter was genuine, there was a glint of curiosity in her eyes that suggested she didn’t quite believe my words. As I stood there, shackled, and the sun began to warm the air around us, a strange feeling of discomfort settled in my chest.

What am I really doing here? I thought, glancing at the men gathered around Ezra. The safe, predictable life I once knew felt like a distant memory.

Ezra returned, holding a small set of keys in his hand. Without wasting any time, he stepped close and unlocked the shackles around my sore wrists. The relief was brief, as he immediately gripped my wrist, his hold firm and unyielding.

“All right, loudmouth wolf,” he said with a slight smirk. “You’re going to help us hunt. Everyone works here; if you want to eat, you have to catch your own food.”

I tried to hide my discomfort as he released my wrists. The pain was just starting to fade when I noticed him pricking his fingertip with one of his claws, causing a small drop of blood to appear. Without another word, he used that blood to draw a symbol on my wrist, an intricate, twisted design that vanished upon contact, as if it melted into my skin.

“And what’s that for?” I asked, unable to keep the irritation out of my voice.

“Now you can’t escape,” he replied, as if it were the most obvious explanation in the world. “If you stray more than a kilometer from me, you’ll regret it.”

I felt a mix of anger and frustration but held back from replying. Ezra, meanwhile, simply tossed me a hunting bag and some ropes, as if he’d just assigned me the simplest task.

“Here. Store your catches in the bag,” he instructed, without even looking at me. “Everyone contributes here, even you.”

Then, without further comment, he walked away with his usual indifference, heading toward his friends as if I were nothing more than a shadow.

“Sure, of course,” I muttered under my breath, looking down at the ropes and bag in my hands. Apparently, I was now a hunter in his little community.

Great, Carolina, I thought sarcastically. Welcome to your new life as a captive with the worst company imaginable.