To Break a Wolf

Chapter 8: Into the Woods

The walk to the cabin was longer than Mira expected. The path twisted through trees, their trunks gnarled and thick, branches arching overhead, shadows dancing on the ground at their feet. Moonlight filtered through in broken strands, catching the mist that clung low to the ground, painting everything silver in the stillness.

Selene moved ahead with the ease of someone born to this place, sure-footed, unhurried. Her presence was quiet, steady. The kind of woman you instinctively followed, even when you weren’t sure where the path would lead. Mira trailed a few steps behind, her duffel slung over one aching shoulder, every footfall louder than it should’ve been in the hush that wrapped around them.

Every c***k of a branch, every shift in the underbrush made Mira’s skin tighten.

“You doing okay back there?” Selene’s voice drifted back, soft but clear.

Mira huffed. “Should I be worried that I’m being led into the woods by strangers in the middle of the night?”

Selene smiled over her shoulder, unbothered. “Should I be worried that you flew across the country because of a mysterious letter?”

“Touché,” Mira muttered, lips twitching despite herself.

They walked in silence for a while longer, the sounds of the forest filling the quiet between them, leaves whispering secrets, wind brushing through the pines. Mira’s eyes flicked to Selene again. There was something almost regal about her, unshakably rooted. She wore her beauty as armor, strong, striking, and entirely her own. Tall and graceful, Selene moved with the precision of someone who’d studied every inch of her terrain, and dared it to challenge her. Her hair, black as nightfall, was pulled back into a braid that hung like a whip down her spine, not a strand out of place. High cheekbones gave her a sculpted elegance, softened only by the cool blue of her eyes, watchful, measuring her surroundings. Every step she took seemed purposeful, every breath quiet and controlled. There was no fidgeting, no wasted motion. Mira had the strange feeling that if Selene ever stood completely still, the forest would move around her. She looked like someone carved from stone and wildfire, made to lead but never beg to be followed.

“So…” Mira ventured, squinting into the dark, “what is this place?”

Selene pushed open a narrow gate as they reached a break in the trees. “A private community. We keep to ourselves.”

“That’s what cults usually say.”

Selene didn’t argue. Just laughed once, amused, and kept walking.

The trees grew thicker, the path dimmer, leading into the kind of darkness that made the imagination go feral. Mira’s fingers tightened on the strap of her bag.

“How far does the land go?” she asked.

“Far enough,” Selene said.

Super helpful.

“And the Monashee Gathering?” Mira pressed. “Are we all pretending that’s self-explanatory, or is someone eventually going to clue me in?”

Selene stopped walking. Turned. “You’ll get answers. Just not all at once.”

Mira studied her, eyes narrowed. “That’s vague.”

“It’s honest.”

But there was more behind her words. Not indifference, not deflection, more restraint. Obviously, the truth was a loaded weapon that Selene didn’t have permission to hand over. Mira didn’t push further. Some questions came with teeth.

The trees finally broke into a small clearing. The cabin came into view, tucked between the shadows. Warm light flickered behind curtained windows as a thin column of smoke drifted from the chimney. It looked… safe. If such a word even applied anymore.

Mira dropped her bag onto the porch with a sigh. “Not as horror-movie creepy as I expected. Mildly eerie, at worst.”

Selene smirked. “High praise.” She hesitated, hand resting on the doorframe. “Bastian’s cabin is across the way. You probably won’t see him, but… if anything feels off, he’s close.”

“The Alpha?” Mira asked.

Selene nodded.

That should have unsettled her. The idea of him watching, lurking. But instead, the memory of his eyes locked on hers, the weight of his presence, made something shift in her chest. Not fear or comfort either. Just… a pull as if something had tethered itself to her without asking.

Mira rubbed her arms. “Are there rules? Secret handshakes?”

Selene’s expression softened. “Just one. Stay inside at night. The forest can be… unpredictable.”

“Unpredictable how?”

“You’ll understand soon enough.”

Definitely not ominous.

Selene reached for the door. “Get some rest, Mira.”

And then she was gone.

The silence her absence left behind hit like a wave. Mira stepped inside hesitantly. The cabin was warm, clean, and simple. A bed with a worn quilt stood in one corner across from the stone fireplace, with the last flickers of flame dancing on the ceiling. A small table and desk graced the opposite wall. It should’ve felt cozy, yet it didn’t. It felt as though someone was watching her.

Mira dropped her bag and sat on the edge of the bed, fingers skimming the quilt’s stitching. Her nerves itched beneath her skin. There was no cell service, no familiar faces, just quiet, heavy and stretching.

She crossed to the window. The moon hung low over the clearing. Mist coiled along the ground, soft and slow, as if it knew things. Her breath fogged the glass. Selene gave her one rule: Stay inside at night.

Mira turned away. Sleep wouldn’t come. Her thoughts wouldn’t still. She pulled out her laptop and opened the file. Her manuscript blinked back at her, empty and waiting. She typed a few lines, deleted those, and tried to type again. Nothing flowed. She shut the lid hard. The silence of the cabin pressed closer.

Maybe she just needed air. A five-minute walk wouldn’t hurt, despite the rule Serene had given her. She wouldn’t go far. She’d spent her life walking home alone in big cities. She could handle trees. She grabbed her jacket, slipped her phone into her pocket out of habit, and cracked the door open. The cold hit first. Sharp. Clean. It carried the scent of pine and moss and far deeper, something more feral that would live beneath your skin. It told you the forest waited.

Stars spilled across the sky above, scattered as would shattered glass. She stepped outside, mist curling around her boots. The air felt alive. Five minutes, she reminded herself. She followed the narrow path into the woods. Leaves whispered beneath her steps. The trees reached higher here. Every sound magnified, and then, nothing. All sound cut off. There was no rustling, no wind, just stillness. The kind that implied somebody watched.

Her breath caught. Then came the growl, low, close, and just…wrong. She spun, heart slamming into her ribs. Four shapes melted out of the trees, massive and silent. Wolves, unlike any she’d seen before. These were too large, their eyes burned an unusual shade of gold. One of them bared its teeth.

Then came the snarl, shattering the quiet. Mira spun on her heel and blindly ran. Branches clawed at her sleeves. Roots snagged her boots. Her lungs burned with every gasping breath. Another growl came from directly behind her. Her thoughts became scattered, allowing panic to overtake instinct. She didn’t know where she was or how far she’d come.

All she knew was they were closing in, and she wasn’t ready for what came next.