To Break a Wolf

Chapter 4:Into the Unknown

Mira had never been to British Columbia before.

It was one of those wistful bucket-list places she’d always daydreamed about, half-craving, half-doubting she’d ever actually go. And yet here she was, stepping off a plane into a postcard she hadn’t packed for. A place that smelled of pine needles, woodsmoke, and change.

The airport was smaller than she expected. Quieter. No flashy shops, no hustle of rolling suitcases or overhead announcements every five minutes. Just a couple of strangers waiting for bags and a sleepy-eyed teenager mopping the floor near the vending machine.

She crossed the threshold outside and paused, struck by the stillness in the air. It hit her all at once, that crisp mountain cold that clung to the back of her throat and filled her lungs. There was something old in the way it settled against her skin.

The mountains rose around her, silent giants layered in snow at the peaks and blazing in autumn fire below, reds, golds, and burnt orange twisting through the trees, setting the entire valley ablaze. She swallowed against the tight flutter in her chest and clutched her duffel a little closer.

She wasn’t just far from home, she was outside of it, completely, and somehow, every instinct in her body told her this wasn’t a detour. This trip was the beginning of something she hadn’t been allowed to see until now.

Then she saw it.

A sleek black SUV, too polished for the setting, parked at the curb and looking out of place and as though it didn’t belong at all. Leaning against it, a broad-shouldered blond, straight out of a Patagonia catalog, but with the kind of stare that didn’t flirt. It assessed. Calculated.

When his eyes locked with hers, something in her gut tightened.

He stepped forward. Controlled, but confident. “Mira Danvers?”

Her fingers flexed around the strap of her bag. “Who’s asking?”

He didn’t blink. Just offered the hint of a smirk, one of those noncommittal ones that could go warm or dangerous depending on the moment. “Callum. I’m here to take you to Monashee.”

She lifted her chin. “Who exactly sent you?”

“Let’s just say… a friend who wants to make sure you get there in one piece.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“No,” he said, honest and infuriating. “But it’s the only answer I’ve got.”

She didn’t move. Didn’t dare to blink. The silence stretched just long enough to make it awkward before she finally said, “This feels like the part of the thriller where the girl disappears and nobody ever hears from her again.”

To his credit, Callum didn’t look annoyed. He looked… entertained. “Fair. If I were you, I wouldn’t get in the car either.”

She crossed her arms. “So why should I?”

“Because you’re not here by accident,” he said, pulling an envelope from the inside of his jacket. “And someone out there seems to think you’d need a little extra convincing.”

The wax seal already had a c***k in it, but the envelope was of the same thick, textured paper as the first. Mira hesitated, then snatched the letter from his hand and unfolded it. Her eyes scanned the neat, slanted script.

Mira,

You’ve made it this far. Trust your instincts, but don’t let fear blind you. You are where fate meant for you to be. Follow the path laid before you, and in time, the truth will reveal itself.

– A Friend

A breath she didn’t know she was holding slipped out between her lips.

It wasn’t a signature. It wasn’t an answer, but it felt real. Making it seem as if whoever wrote it knew her. Knew how her brain would spiral. Knew she’d be standing right here, questioning everything, just short of bolting.

She looked up.

Callum was watching her, not impatient, just steady, acting as if it was his job to wait people out without pressuring them.

“Where did you get this?” she asked.

“It was left for you,” he said. “I’m just the ride.”

Her brain scrambled for any reason not to get in the car, but her gut, that stubborn, maddening gut, whispered that this was what she came for.

“Alright,” she muttered, shoving the letter into her coat pocket. “But if you try anything sketchy, I will make you regret it.”

Callum cracked a grin. “Noted.”

He opened the passenger door, and she slid in before she could overthink it. The inside of the SUV was warm, the seats plush and expensive enough to feel out of place for a mountain man taxi service.

As they pulled out of the airport lot, Mira leaned her forehead against the cool window. The highway stretched in long, winding ribbons of grey, curving between cliffside drops and tree-drenched ridges.

“How long is the drive?” she asked, her voice quieter than she meant it to be.

“Couple of hours,” he replied. “No cell service after we hit the pass, so if there’s anyone you need to check in with, now’s the time.”

She didn’t answer, just pulled her phone out and stared at Luca’s name on the screen. Her thumb hovered.

Would he tell her to turn back? To get out while she still could?

Maybe.

She typed out the simplest message she could think of.

Mira: Landed safely. Met the driver. Heading into the mountains now. Will check in soon.

A few seconds later, her phone buzzed.

Luca: Who’s the driver? Did they say who sent them?

Of course.

Mira: Some guy named Callum. Said a mutual friend arranged this. Seems fine.

Another buzz.

Luca: That’s not reassuring. Be careful.

She smiled, a little bitter, a little fond. He was always like this. Protective in the most annoying way. But he was her only family, and she couldn’t help but love it.

Mira: Always am. I’ll check in soon.

One more message appeared.

Luca: Don’t trust anyone too easily.

That one made her pause.

It wasn’t just worry; it was a warning, curling in her chest.

She locked the phone and slipped it into her pocket.

The trees thickened as they climbed higher, the shadows stretching longer, and the road narrowing until it felt as though it might vanish altogether. The mountains didn’t just surround them anymore. They swallowed the sky.

Mira sat back, the letter weighing down her coat, the unanswered questions pressing in close.

Whatever was waiting for her out here, it wasn’t just an invitation; it was a reckoning, and she was already too far in to run.