Blood in the Snow
1208 Words
Part One — Dustin
The moment Dustin crested the hill, he knew Rowan had been here.
The snow was torn open in violent crescents where paws had raked the ground. Blood spattered in irregular arcs—fresh, bright against the white. A pine trunk bore deep claw marks gouged into the bark, sap still glistening at the edges. The air held Rowan’s scent sharp and wild, threaded with something darker and unfamiliar.
Dustin’s heart slammed in his chest.
“Damn it, Rowan…” he muttered, crouching low as he traced one of the claw marks. Ice crunched under his glove. “What the hell did you get into?”
Maverick snarled in the back of his mind.
Those prints there—packing formation. Three wolves. Maybe four. They were hunting.
Hunting what?
Not Rowan. He forced them back. But they were chasing something else. Someone else.
Dustin’s stomach tightened. Holly? No, Rowan would have never left her unguarded unless—
Unless there was no choice.
Dustin’s pulse surged.
Snow fell in lazy flakes around him as he crouched, scanning the ground. He followed the tracks Rowan had left—heavy, weighted strides from fighting—and then the fading pawprints that rushed away in frantic patterns.
“Three rogues…” he murmured. “And one stayed longer than the others.”
He brushed aside a strip of disturbed snow and uncovered a smear of blood thinner than the rest. Not Rowan’s. Lighter scent. Female.
“You didn’t kill her,” Dustin said under his breath. “You let her run.”
It was oddly merciful for a fight like this.
Rowan was protecting something. Maverick growled softly.
Dustin’s breath fogged as he rose, fists clenching.
“I need to know what.”
He tilted his head back and let out a sharp whistle. Not for Rowan—Rowan would hear it if he was close. No, this whistle was a signal to Serena. A directive. A beacon.
But before the sound faded, the wind shifted—
—and Dustin caught a new scent.
One that made the hairs on his neck rise.
Similar to the rogue Rowan had fought. Almost identical. But younger. Softer. Threaded with cold and fear.
Then another sound cut across the forest:
“Dustin!”
Serena.
Her voice was sharp—fear hidden under steel.
Dustin jolted upright and shouted back, “Over here!”
She crashed through a narrow gap between the pines, boots kicking up snow. And beside her—
A small wolf stumbled, wrapped clumsily in Serena’s coat.
The rogue.
Dustin swore under his breath. “Where did you—?”
“She was hiding,” Serena said, breathless. “Cold. Alone. She followed when she heard you shout.”
Dustin’s attention snapped to the young wolf. Her pale gray coat bristled as she picked up scent after scent. Then—
She froze.
Every muscle went rigid. Her pupils blew wide. A strangled whine tore from her throat as she scrambled forward, burying her nose in the snow where Rowan’s fight had taken place. She pawed at the ground with frantic urgency.
“Easy—easy!” Serena dropped to her knees beside the wolf, hands steady but voice shaking. “What is it? What do you smell?”
The rogue didn’t look at her. Didn’t react at all. She was trembling so violently Dustin could see her ribs shifting under her fur.
Maverick stepped forward in Dustin’s mind, unusually quiet.
She knows the wolf Rowan fought.
Dustin stared. “…What do you mean?”
That scent. That blood. The one Rowan grappled with. It’s familiar to her. Very familiar.
“You’re saying—?”
They’re related.
As if confirming it, the young rogue let out a keening, aching sound that cut straight through the cold. She pressed her forehead into the snow—into the exact spot where Rowan had pinned the female wolf—then lifted her head and looked at Serena.
And nodded.
Not the casual bob of a wolf acknowledging a human.
A deliberate gesture.
Purposeful.
Meaningful.
Understanding flashed across Serena’s face. “She… knows her.”
Dustin swallowed hard. “No. More than that.” His voice roughened. “She’s family.”
The rogue let out a soft, choked yip.
Serena’s breath hitched. “Sister?”
Another nod.
Dustin scrubbed a hand over his face. “Gods.”
A twin rogue. One here. One with Rowan and Holly. And a pack of hostile wolves chasing them across the snow.
The puzzle pieces were aligning into something sharp and dangerous.
“What were they running from?” Serena whispered.
Dustin shook his head. “Don’t know. But Rowan found one twin. You found the other. And those wolves were hunting them.”
“And if they were hunting the twins…” Serena murmured slowly, eyes narrowing, “they might come back.”
Dustin’s jaw tightened.
Not happening.
Not with Holly in that cabin.
Not with Rowan drained from fighting.
Not with this young rogue clinging to Serena’s side, shaking like a leaf.
“We need to move,” Dustin said firmly, eyes locking with Serena’s. “Now. We regroup at the cabin. Protect Rowan. Protect Holly.”
He pointed to the bloodied snow. “But first—we need to follow those tracks, at least a little. Find out which direction the attackers fled.”
Serena didn’t argue immediately. Her gaze flicked to the rogue at her knee. The wolf pressed against her legs, whimpering softly.
Serena’s voice went softer. “She doesn’t want to leave her sister.”
“She won’t have to,” Dustin said, already stepping toward the northeast trail. “We’re not going far. Just enough to understand what we’re dealing with.”
Serena hesitated.
Dustin exhaled and stepped closer to her.
“Serena.” His voice lowered, gentler than he meant it to be. “I’m not asking you to risk her. Or you. I just need to know what we’re facing before we walk blind into Rowan’s front door.”
Serena met his eyes.
And nodded.
“All right,” she whispered. “But we stay together.”
Dustin felt something warm twist in his chest. “Always.”
They moved as one.
The rogue limped beside them, nose low, following her sister’s fading scent through the snow. The forest darkened as clouds thickened overhead, the wind stirring in restless flurries around them.
Dustin scanned every shadow.
Every movement.
Every whisper.
They walked maybe fifty yards before Maverick stiffened inside him like a drawn bowstring.
Dustin. Stop.
Dustin’s boots halted instantly.
Serena froze too.
The young rogue pressed against her, wide-eyed.
Dustin’s breath fogged in front of him as he murmured, “What do you smell?”
Maverick’s answer was a low, deadly growl.
Not the wolves Rowan fought.
Something bigger. Older. Closer.
Serena’s hand found Dustin’s arm.
And then—
A long, deep howl broke through the trees.
Not rogue.
Not pack.
Something else entirely.
Dustin’s heart seized.
“That’s not good,” he whispered.
The rogue pressed her face into Serena’s leg, trembling.
Serena looked at Dustin.
“We need to get back to Rowan. Now.”
Dustin didn’t argue.
They turned as one—and ran.
- Writer
