Peak Moon: The hunted Alpha

EPISODE 2

“Split into three groups. Find him. Kill him. Locate where he’s hiding his daughter and bring her to me.”

The commander’s order cut through the cold air.

The three groups moved toward the woods below the mountain ridge. Minutes later, the first two groups heard screams from the third. The sound cut short.

Silence. Then panic.

“SHOOT!” one soldier yelled.

The others followed, firing blindly into the trees. They hadn’t seen anything. When their magazines ran dry, Matvey emerged from the dark slashing through them with his claws. The agony as some of the soldiers fell to the ground. The rest ran.

Matvey went to the hollow where he’d hidden Ema. She hadn’t made a sound.

“Let’s go home,” he said, holding her as his wolf receded and his human form returned.

“But… but our home… it’s gone,” Ema whispered.

“We’ll build another one. The pack will help.” He wiped his tears with his thumb. “Come on. No more crying, little wolf.”

She managed a small smile.

MOUNT OF PALMA – TWO HOURS LATER

“How did you lose him?” Lieutenant Colonel Hitrov yelled.

“Sir, the plan was solid. My orders were clear. Then Firod panicked and shouted to fire. In the chaos, everyone thought it was me,” the commander explained in detail.

“Then you should have called them off!”

“They couldn’t hear me over the gunfire, sir.”

“And Firod?”

“He didn’t make it, sir.”

Hitrov stared at him. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Yes, sir.”

Hitrov turned to the other soldiers slumped against rocks and fallen logs. They nodded, exhausted.

“Enough. Pack up. We’re going back.” He looked toward the transport helicopter parked near the remains of Matvey’s cabin. His real worry was the report he’d have to give in the capital.

The evening fell as Matvey carried Ema through the woods. No vehicles. The cold deepened.

His senses caught something. Werewolves nearby.

He gave a low howl. An answer came back almost instantly.

Two men appeared, hoods up, torches in hand. They recognized Matvey’s torn shirt and stepped forward.

“Don’t,” Matvey said quietly when they reached for Ema. “I’ve got her.”

“You’ve been in a fight,” said Hurtis, the Alpha of the Mount Oreo pack. “Government?”

“They found us. We got out.”

“Go tell the others to make food ready,” Hurtis told the other man. “Matvey’s here.”

They climbed Mount Oreo in silence. Ema slept against Matvey’s chest.

At the top, Matvey stopped. Seven small cabins circled a larger one. Snow bikes sat outside. The trees above formed a thick canopy.

“We keep our heads down,” Hurtis explained. “About forty of us. We watch each other’s backs. The canopy covers us from drones and patrols.”

“Impressive,” Matvey said.

“We’ve got a school, a library, a gym, a dojo, a kitchen. Everything we need.” Hurtis’s voice held pride.

Matvey remembered doing the same years ago, before the government turned on them. Before the attacks. Before he lost Ema’s mother,

That was why he’d sent everyone into small groups. If they came for him, he didn’t want more blood on his hands.

Hurtis led them to a cabin with a fireplace, a small shower, and a porch overlooking the small village.

A woman arrived with a bag. “Clothes. Supplies. From Hurtis.”

“Thank you,” Matvey said.

After they bathed and changed, she returned. “Do you want to eat with Hurtis? He and a group of men is grilling meat out there in the cold and drinking beer or would you prefer to eat here?”

“Here,” Matvey said. “Just us tonight. “I will talk to Hurtis tomorrow. Bring our meal here. My daughter and I would just love to eat and sleep.”

She came back with pepper and roasted goat meat. Ema’s eyes lit up.

“Hurtis says he understands you could be tired,” the lady said as she smiled warmly to Ema, who was more than enthused to devour the contents of the tray placed in front of her.

Matvey studied her. She reminded him of someone.

“What’s your name?”

“Havana.”

“Like the city?”

She smiled. “Like the city.”

Ema ate while Havana ran a hand through her blonde hair.

“She’s sweet,” Havana said softly.

“She is,” Matvey agreed. Her elegance reminded her of his late Luna.

He watched her for a moment. There was something in the way she moved, the way she spoke.

He had questions.

“How did you get the name Havana?”