Remember me..

6. Unexpected allies.

Embla.

Panic surges through me like wildfire, searing every nerve as I realize we're surrounded. Aska’s thoughts race through my mind, mirroring the same gut-wrenching fear. We're outnumbered, outmatched. My heart pounds erratically in my chest as the stench of blood and decay hangs thick in the air. The sickly rogue lunges again, his teeth grazing our shoulder, and pain explodes, it’s a sharp and burning pain. A wave of nausea hits me, but I fight it down.

'We need to run!' I urged Aska silently, my desperation palpable.

Before we can react, the grey wolf who shifted earlier barrels into the sick rogue, knocking him aside with a violent crash of muscle and fur. The two wolves tumble in a snarling, savage blur, claws raking through the earth, jaws snapping at one another's throats. I blinked, momentarily stunned by the chaotic scene before me, my pulse thudding in my ears.

'Is he... helping us?' Aska's thoughts whisper through my mind, her confusion blending with mine.

The other smaller wolf snarls, his hackles raised as he positions himself between us and where his friends and the frenzied rogue are fighting. For a moment, everything felt surreal. I’m frozen, caught between disbelief and a strange gratitude. The rogue’s wild eyes flicker at the wolf now guarding us. His eyes burn with feverish rage, but the wolf holds his ground.

Then, a sharp, pained howl cuts through the air, piercing my soul like a dagger. I flinch involuntarily, my heart sinking. The sick rogue had pinned the grey wolf, his filthy jaws clamping down viciously on the other’s throat. A cold wave of guilt twists in my stomach. This wolf has come to our aid, and now he's being torn apart because of it.

Standing a few feet away, the guard wolf whines in helpless frustration, his muscles twitching as if caught between duty and friendship.

'We have to help him,' Aska’s voice surges through me, determined, urgent.

'We can’t,' I plead, desperation clawing at my mind. 'We're injured, and...'

Before I can finish, Aska springs into action, ignoring my hesitation. She leaps over the wolf in front of us with terrifying speed and plunges into the fray. Our jaws clamp down on the rogue’s throat, the rancid taste of his blood flooding our mouth, thick and putrid. I want to gag, but there’s no time for disgust, no space for hesitation.

The rogue lets out a strangled yelp as his grip on the grey wolf slackens. His eyes, now wild with fury, turned on us, burning with a hatred so intense it sears into my very core. He snaps at our face, his jaws a blur of deadly force. We barely dodged, the rush of air from his teeth whistling past our muzzle, a hair’s breadth away from tearing us apart.

Aska’s resolve burns hotter, flooding my veins with her fierce determination. The pain in our shoulders, the exhaustion from fighting, it all fades as her strength fills me. We stand in a tense standoff, our ragged breaths the only sound between us, each second stretching out painfully. The rogue’s gaze flickers, calculating, weighing his odds. His bloodshot eyes narrow, and I can feel the savage hunger radiating off him, primal and relentless.

Without warning, he lunges, not at us, but at the injured grey wolf struggling to rise behind us.

Before I have time to think, we throw ourselves into his path. His teeth sink deep into our flank, shredding flesh and fur with agonizing precision. A howl of pure, blinding pain rips from our throat, echoing through the clearing. The world blurs around me, the pain almost unbearable, but I hold on. Aska holds on.

We stagger, but it’s enough. The grey wolf, now back on his feet, seizes the moment. With a final burst of strength, he leaps, his powerful jaws clamping down on the rogue’s neck with deadly force. There's a sickening c***k, a sharp break that cuts through the chaos. Then, silence. The rogue’s body goes limp, collapsing in a twisted heap.

It’s over.

We collapsed to the ground, panting heavily, every breath sending sharp waves of pain through my injured flank. The wound throbs in rhythm with my heartbeat, the sensation of blood trickling down my side a chilling reminder of how close we came to death. Aska's relief floods through me like a balm, but the pain lingers, gnawing at the edges of my consciousness.

The grey wolf limps over to us, his body trembling with exhaustion. He favours his left side, clearly struggling to stay upright, but his amber eyes meet mine with a mix of gratitude and wariness. He shifts back into his human form. The sight of his injuries in this form is even more harrowing. Blood seeps from gaping wounds along his neck and side, his skin pale and slick with sweat.

“You need to get back to your pack,” his voice is rough, strained with pain, but firm. “Now. I don’t know why you’re out here alone, but that bite…” he gestures to my flank, “... it’s not going to heal properly, not just because you're a werewolf. You need it treated.”

His words are blunt, but the concern in his eyes softens their sting. I glanced down at my wounds, trying to assess the damage. Blood stains the ground beneath me, but I doubt my injury is as bad as his. His wounds were raw and deep, his neck and right side covered in torn flesh, blood pouring steadily from the jagged gashes. In this state, I wonder if he’ll even survive until morning.

I nudged Aska gently, urging her to give me control. Shifting is the only way I can communicate clearly with these two wolves, but even as I push, I feel her hesitation. We both know how vulnerable this will leave us—our human form, exposed and fragile compared to the protection of fur and claws. But after a tense heartbeat, she releases control, and I shift back, my body trembling slightly as the cold air bites at my exposed skin. The pain in my wounds intensifies, no longer dulled by the heightened resilience of my wolf.

The man’s gaze shifts away, offering me a semblance of privacy, though I know the state of my body—bloodied, bruised, and weakened, is already painfully obvious.

"Why did you help me?" I asked, my voice rough and thick with exhaustion. I still can't fully comprehend what just happened, why this stranger had risked himself for me.

He turns his head back, meeting my eyes, his expression unreadable. "What kind of man would I be if I just stood by and watched a sick rogue tear apart a lone she-wolf?" He takes a deep breath. "Besides, you're clearly a blind, young and inexperienced she-wolf. That rogue would've killed you without hesitation."

His words cut through me like a blade. Anger flares hot and sudden in my chest, a wave of defensiveness that I can't control. "I can take care of myself," I snap, my voice sharper than I intended. Even as I say it, though, the truth of his words stings. I had been at a disadvantage, and I knew it.

He rolls his eyes, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. "Yeah, I noticed." His tone is dry, laced with sarcasm. "Either way, you need to get back to your pack. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said you need those wounds treated before the infection gets bad and trust me, your wounds will get infected, and you’ll lose your ability to heal. The infection those rogues carry... it shuts down our natural healing ability."

His words hit me like a slap. So some rogues are carrying an infection? My stomach churns at the thought, my mind racing. "How have I never heard of that?" I asked, the shock evident in my voice. It’s unnerving to realize there’s so much about the dangers outside my pack that I don’t know.

The man shrugs nonchalantly, his irritation clear. "You're a sheltered pack wolf," he says, the insult barely veiled. "Those rouges don’t go near pack grounds. Most pack wolves don’t even know what’s out here." His tone drips with frustration, and it rubs me the wrong way, but I bite my tongue. He saved my life and now’s not the time to pick a fight. Still, his words dig under my skin, making me feel small like a child lost in a world far more dangerous than I’d realized.

"Well, I can’t go home," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

The man’s gaze sharpens, studying me with newfound interest. His posture shifts, as if trying to understand the weight behind my words. Before he can respond, the other wolf whines softly, nudging the man's hand. There’s a moment of silent communication between them.

"I know, I know," the man mutters under his breath, glancing down at the wolf for a moment before turning his attention back to me. "Look, we can’t stay here. There might be more rogues lurking nearby, and in this condition, none of us stand a chance." He winces as he shifts his weight, the movement causing him pain. "We need to move."

"This is my kid brother, Finn," he continued, gesturing toward the wolf beside him. "We have a safe house not far from here. We can treat our wounds there and recover. It’s our best option." With a visible effort, he hauls himself to his feet, his movements slow and pained.

His little brother, Aska’s voice echoes softly in my mind. That explains how they can communicate without being part of a pack.

Finn lets out a low, concerned whine, nudging his brother’s leg with his muzzle. The man smiles weakly, bending down to ruffle the wolf’s fur. "I’m okay, Finn," he murmurs. I could see the lie in his eyes, the pain he was trying to hide. I could see the strain etched into every line of his face, the way his hands trembled slightly as they brushed through his brother’s fur. The lie is written plainly in his eyes. He’s far from okay.

The sight of him struggling, the blood still seeping from his wounds, makes something tighten in my chest. My wounds throb each pulse of pain a grim reminder of how close we all came to death. I glance between the two of them, weighing my options.

'I feel like we can trust him, Embla,' Aska’s voice is firm, her confidence steadying me. 'He saved our life. He didn’t have to, but he did.'

Her certainty helps ease the knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach. Deep down, I trust Aska completely. If she feels this is the right call, I have to believe her. But there’s still a part of me—the stubborn, wounded part—that wants to fight against this vulnerability, that hates the idea of needing help.

I bit my lip, tasting the coppery tang of blood from where my teeth had cut into it earlier. The pain in my side is getting worse, a constant, dull ache that flares with every breath. I know Aska’s right. We’re too vulnerable out here, all of us.

"Alright," I finally said, my voice low but resolute. "Lead the way."

The man gave a brief nod, a flicker of relief crossing his face, “We should shift, it's easier to move in our wolf form when we are wounded. Are you able to?”

I nodded. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Liam,” he said before he shifted back into his wolf again.