The Stranger
1085 Words
The forest looked different in daylight—quiet, wet, and deceitfully calm. Aria’s clothes clung to her skin, heavy with dried mud and storm water.
Her stomach growled. Loudly.
“Shut up,” she whispered to it. “You complaining won’t get us food.”
She dragged herself through thick underbrush until she reached a narrow stream. She knelt, cupped water in trembling hands, and drank. It tasted like dirt and cold metal, but it was water.
A twig snapped behind her.
Aria spun around instantly, heart pounding. “Don’t come any closer!”
Silence. Then a voice—low, steady, definitely not rogue-snarling
“If I wanted to attack you, I would have done it already.”
Aria scrambled backward, feet slipping on wet stone. “Show yourself!”
Leaves rustled, and a man stepped out from behind a mossy tree. Not a rogue—he wasn’t filthy, foaming, or wild-eyed. He stood tall, arms crossed, dark cloak hanging off broad shoulders—his eyes—cold grey—swept over her like he was cataloging injuries and weaknesses.
He raised a brow. “You’re a long way from any safe border.”
Aria swallowed hard. “So are you.”
Something flickered in his expression—approval, maybe. Or annoyance. Hard to tell.
He tilted his head. “Name.”
“No.”
His lips twitched—almost a smirk, but too sharp. “Stubborn.”
“Alive,” she shot back.
“Barely.”
She glared. “What do you want?”
“I could ask you the same,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re bleeding. You’re exhausted. And you smell like—”
He paused.
Aria stiffened. “Like what?”
He studied her face for a few long seconds before answering:
“…like a wolf without a wolf.”
Aria’s breath hitched. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He didn’t push. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder as distant howls rippled through the trees.
Her blood froze. “They’re still searching.”
“They?” he asked.
Aria hesitated. Too long.
His eyes sharpened. “Rogues.”
She nodded once.
The stranger sighed, almost bored. “Of course. Always a bloody mess in these woods.”
He turned, cloak shifting. “Come.”
Aria blinked. “Where?”
“Away from the wolves trying to kill you,” he said flatly. “Unless you’d prefer to stay and debate.”
“I don’t trust you.”
He glanced back at her, unimpressed. “Trust is optional. Survival isn’t.”
The howls grew louder.
Aria made a split-second decision.
“Fine,” she muttered. “But if you try anything—”
He didn’t let her finish. “You’ll what? Bleed on me?”
Aria scowled. “You’re extremely annoying.”
“Common feedback,” he said dryly.
They moved fast through the forest, dodging thorns and broken branches. Aria stumbled twice, but the stranger didn’t slow, didn’t offer help, didn’t look back.
Good. She didn’t want pity anyway.
After what felt like an eternity, they reached a ridge. Smoke curled from chimneys in the distance—rooftops, walls, guarded watchtowers.
A settlement.
Aria’s eyes widened. “Another pack?”
The stranger didn’t answer immediately. His gaze stayed on the horizon.
“Border territory,” he finally said. “Neutral—technically.”
“Technically?” Aria echoed.
He glanced at her. “Depends who you ask.”
Another howl sliced through the trees behind them—closer.
Aria’s breath hitched. “We need to move—”
He grabbed her wrist—not harsh, but firm. “Stay still.”
She froze, confused. “What—”
“Look.”
Down below, in the valley between the trees and the settlement, she saw them—rogues. A dozen, maybe more. Moving like a pack of starving wolves.
Her pulse hammered. “They’re waiting for me.”
“Or herding you,” he corrected. “Smart dogs.”
Aria’s throat tightened. “Why are they after me? I’m nobody.”
The stranger’s eyes slid to her.
“Nobody?” he repeated softly, like he didn’t believe her.
Before she could respond, the rogues shifted directions—uphill.
Aria panicked. “We need to run—now!”
The stranger didn’t flinch. “Don’t run. They’ll chase faster.”
“Then what—”
A whistle cut through the air.
Three figures emerged from the trees on the opposite ridge—silent, armed, deadly. The air shifted with the snap of crossbows firing.
Arrows rained.
Rogues collapsed.
Aria stumbled backward, stunned. “Who—”
“Hunters,” the stranger said. “They watch borders so packs don’t bleed all over each other.”
“Are they going to shoot us too?” she whispered.
He didn’t get the chance to answer. One of the hunters shouted up at them.
“Drop your weapons and come down!”
Aria swallowed. “I don’t have any—”
“They weren’t talking to you,” the stranger muttered, dropping two curved blades she hadn’t noticed.
Aria blinked. “Do you just—carry knives around?”
His look said Of course I do.
They descended slowly.
When they reached the bottom, the lead hunter—a tall woman with braids—pointed her crossbow at Aria.
“You’re not rogue,” she noted. “But you smell like a chased rabbit.”
Aria opened her mouth, then shut it. She didn’t exactly have a rehearsed explanation for a rejected mate running for her life through a wolf-infested forest.
“She’s coming with us,” the stranger said.
The hunter raised a brow. “Since when do you collect strays?”
“Since today.”
“So Alpha Leon will love this,” she muttered. Then to Aria “Try to run and I’ll pin your legs to the dirt. Clear?”
Aria nodded quickly. “Very clear.”
The hunters moved out, forming a loose escort.
The stranger walked beside Aria now, hands in pockets.
After a long moment, she asked quietly, “What’s your name?”
He didn’t look at her as he answered
“Damon.”
Aria swallowed. “Aria.”
He made no reaction, gave nothing away. But as they reached the settlement gates, Aria overheard one of the hunters mutter
“Leon’s going to lose his mind over this.”
Which made her wonder—for the first time—
Who exactly had found her?
- Writer
