Lena: The Bread Winner

Chapter1

The Huntress

The cold of the forest seeped into Lena’s bones as she tread carefully through the snow-blanketed undergrowth. Her breath escaped in sharp puffs, dissipating into the icy air, but she paid little mind to the discomfort. Survival in the isolated village of Blackthorn required grit, and Lena had it in spades. After her father’s death, the role of provider fell squarely on her shoulders. She had embraced it, not out of choice, but necessity.

Tonight, her mission was different. She wasn’t chasing deer or hare to trade for provisions. This time, she was hunting a predator that had terrorized the village for weeks. Livestock torn apart, eerie howls echoing in the dead of night, and villagers disappearing—all pointed to something unnatural. The elders spoke of werewolves, creatures of ancient curses and full moons, but Lena wasn’t one to believe in bedtime stories. What she did believe in was protecting her younger siblings, Jonah and Elise. They depended on her, and she wouldn’t let them down.

Her crossbow rested against her shoulder, bolts strapped securely to her belt. The trees loomed tall around her, their skeletal branches clawing at the sky. The pale light of the full moon illuminated her path, casting long shadows that seemed to dance as the wind stirred the forest. She moved silently, years of hunting honing her ability to blend into the environment.

The deeper she ventured, the quieter it became. The usual sounds of nocturnal life—owls hooting, the rustle of small animals in the underbrush—were conspicuously absent. A shiver ran down Lena’s spine, but she pressed on.

Suddenly, her sharp eyes caught movement ahead. A shape darted between the trees, too large to be any ordinary animal. She crouched low, her heart pounding as she nocked a bolt into her crossbow. She waited, every muscle tense, her senses straining to detect the slightest sound.

The snap of a twig behind her was her only warning. She whirled around, but it was too late. A massive form tackled her, knocking her weapon from her hands. She hit the ground hard, the wind forced from her lungs.

Above her loomed a creature out of nightmares. Its wolf-like snout snarled, revealing rows of sharp teeth. Its yellow eyes glowed with an unnatural light, and its muscular frame radiated power. But even as fear gripped her, Lena noticed something strange. Those eyes held intelligence, something distinctly human.

The beast growled low, and its jaws hovered mere inches from her throat. Lena grabbed the dagger strapped to her leg, but before she could strike, the creature spoke.

“You’re different,” it rumbled, its voice guttural but unmistakably articulate.

Lena froze, her grip on the dagger tightening. “What do you mean?”

The werewolf’s eyes narrowed as it studied her. “You fight for more than yourself. I can smell it—the desperation, the loyalty. You protect others.”

Her mind reeled. A talking werewolf? What madness was this? “What are you?” she demanded, her voice trembling despite her efforts to remain composed.

The creature’s expression shifted, almost as if it was sad. “A prisoner of this forest. A guardian turned monster.”

Before she could ask more, the werewolf leapt back, disappearing into the darkness with a speed that left her breathless. Lena lay there for a moment, staring up at the stars. Whatever that thing was, it wasn’t just a mindless beast.