Splintered Tracks and Shifting Shadows
1683 Words
Part One — Dustin
The snowfall had eased by morning, but the forest still lay buried beneath a thick, untouched blanket of white. The world felt quieter than it should have been—too quiet, even for winter. Every sound carried. Every silence stretched.
And Dustin hated it.
He hated the way the wrongness sat at the back of his throat like iron. He hated the distance gnawing at his mindlink where Rowan should have been anchored. He hated the fact that the Alpha had been out of reach for far too long.
But most of all, he hated that he couldn’t fix any of it yet.
“We’re close,” he muttered under his breath, crouching beside a set of wolf prints half-filled with snow. He brushed away the top layer with a gloved hand. “Fresh. Less than an hour.”
Maverick—his wolf—huffed in irritation inside his mind.
Rowan is farther north. These prints aren’t his. Too small. Light step. Female.
I know, Dustin answered silently. But she was headed the same direction he was. She might’ve crossed his path.
The thought twisted something in his stomach. A rogue trailing their Alpha during a snowstorm was bad enough. A rogue female, newly shifted based on the size of the prints, was worse. Young rogues were unpredictable, skittish. Dangerous without meaning to be.
Dustin rose fully, scanning the tree line. Every trunk was washed in pale winter light. Every breath steamed in front of him. Every tree seemed to lean in, listening.
“Serena,” he called back without raising his voice. She’d hear him regardless. “Got something.”
Footsteps crunched behind him. Serena appeared, brushing loose snow off her coat sleeve, golden-brown eyes sharp and assessing. “That’s her, then? The little shadow?”
“Yeah.” Dustin pointed. “Still warm underneath.”
Serena’s expression tightened—a mixture of worry and calculation. “If she’s this close, Rowan must be near.”
“Unless she scared him off,” Dustin shot back automatically.
Serena gave him a flat look.
“…I’m kidding,” he amended, though his voice lacked the usual bite. “Mostly.”
Maverick growled at him for that one.
Dustin straightened and blew out a breath, watching it curl into the frigid air. “We keep moving north. Rowan’s trail fades, but not enough to lose him.”
Serena nodded once. “I’ll follow your lead.”
The shift in her tone made something uncomfortable twist in Dustin’s chest. Respect, he reminded himself. It was her acknowledging his position as Beta Male and Rowan’s second, not anything else. Not the thing he’d almost let slip the other night before Maverick snapped him back to reality.
Now was not the time to think about Serena.
Not when Rowan was missing. Not when a rogue lingered too close to their borders. Not when his pack depended on him to be steady.
“One thing at a time,” he muttered, mostly to himself.
He started forward, Serena falling smoothly into step beside him. They moved in near silence, the only sound the rhythmic crunch of snow beneath their boots. After a few minutes, Dustin felt a faint tug in his mind—Maverick lifting his head.
Wait.
Dustin halted instantly.
Something shifted. North-east. Can’t tell what. Not Rowan. Not the rogue. Something… else.
Dustin’s heart rate kicked up a notch.
“…You’re sure?”
I know Rowan’s energy. And the girl’s scent is different. This—whatever it is—is older. Wilder. Watching.
Dustin’s grip tightened around the ice-crusted branch he’d been using to clear snow. “Serena, we need to move. Now.”
She didn’t argue. Didn’t question. She simply stepped closer, shoulder nearly brushing his, posture tense.
Dustin pushed forward faster this time, heart pounding, instincts blazing. Maverick growled deep in his chest.
Hurry. Before the storm turns again. Before something else finds them first.
Dustin shoved aside a cluster of snow-heavy branches—
And froze.
Up ahead, tucked between two massive pines, was a small clearing. Snow lay disturbed in a chaotic swirl of paw prints and boot tracks. Rowan’s scent—a fierce blend of pine resin and something sharper—lingered in great sweeping arcs.
But over it, tangled with it…
Was something else.
Soft. Feminine. Almost sweet.
The rogue.
And faintly—painfully faintly—Holly.
Dustin’s pulse slammed in his ears.
“Rowan was here,” he breathed.
Serena crouched to inspect the snow, expression darkening. “Recently.”
“Too recently,” Dustin murmured.
He stepped deeper into the clearing, eyes narrowing at the tangled footprints. A scuffle? A meeting? A close call?
Or something worse?
“Rowan,” he whispered, reaching instinctively for the bond.
Silence answered.
A cold dread slid down his spine.
“He’s alive,” Dustin said quickly, before Serena could voice the fear etched across her face. “I know he is. I’d feel it if he weren’t.”
He swallowed hard.
“But something is wrong.”
Find him. Now. Maverick urged, urgency burning in the back of his mind.
Dustin clenched his jaw.
“We split up,” he said. “Cover more ground.”
Serena opened her mouth—clearly ready to argue—but he shook his head sharply.
“I have the stronger read on Rowan. You track the rogue. She’s young, scared, and probably freezing. If we find her, we find answers.”
“…Fine,” Serena said after a long, tense beat. “But you check in every five minutes. And if anything feels off, you call.”
Dustin cracked a faint smirk. “Yes, Gamma. I’ll be careful.”
Serena didn’t return the smile. “Dustin.”
The seriousness in her voice pulled him up short.
“Come back,” she said quietly.
Something warm pulled tight in his chest.
“…You too,” he said, softer than intended.
Then he turned and headed deeper into the woods, following the faintest thread of Rowan’s scent.
Part Two — Serena
Serena waited until Dustin’s silhouette disappeared between the trees before exhaling a long, controlled breath.
The worry twisting in her stomach had nothing to do with fear.
No—Serena Hale did not fear snowstorms, rogues, or the dark. She had grown up in these woods, trained in them, bled in them. The forest was as much a part of her as breath.
It was Dustin she worried about.
Dustin with his reckless loyalty. Dustin with his stubborn sense of responsibility. Dustin who carried the world like it was stitched to his shoulders.
Dustin who felt too much and hid it too well.
Enough, she told herself firmly. Focus.
She crouched near the rogue’s tracks—small paws, light step, gait uneven as if the young wolf had been limping. Snow clung lightly to the edges of the prints.
“Poor girl,” Serena murmured, brushing a thumb across the indentation. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”
The rogue’s scent was faint but distinct—wild heather, frost, and something fragile. Not feral. Not dangerous.
Just young.
Just lost.
Exactly how Holly will be if she ever finds out the truth, Serena thought grimly.
She stood, rolling her shoulders back. Time to move.
The forest shifted around her, branches creaking under their frozen burdens. Wind whispered through the canopy, carrying scents in thin, fractured threads.
Serena inhaled deeply—
There.
A trail. The rogue had veered east, away from Rowan’s path.
Serena took off at a brisk pace, her footsteps silent, every movement practiced. Animals stirred at her approach—a startled hare darting under a fallen log, birds lifting off in startled rustles.
Minutes stretched. Snow began falling again in lazy flakes, drifting through the air like drifting ash.
Then—without warning—Serena stopped.
Her breath hitched.
Up ahead, curled beneath a concave slope of rock and snow, was a shape.
Small. Wolf-shaped. Trembling.
Serena's pulse kicked.
The rogue.
She approached slowly, carefully, boots crunching softly. The young wolf lifted her head weakly, blue-gray eyes glinting with fear. She didn’t growl. Didn’t bare teeth.
Just watched.
Like she’d already given up on being a threat.
“It’s okay,” Serena said softly, kneeling a few feet away. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
The rogue lowered her head but didn’t look away.
Serena’s heart squeezed.
“You’re freezing,” she murmured. “Gods, sweetheart… why are you out here alone?”
The young wolf blinked, fur matted with snow. Serena extended a hand—slow, nonthreatening. The wolf didn’t approach, but she didn’t retreat either.
Serena swallowed hard.
“You remind me of someone,” she whispered, voice barely audible over the wind. “Someone who doesn’t know her own truth yet.”
Snow drifted down onto the wolf’s back. Serena shook her head and moved closer, shrugging off her coat and draping it over the trembling form. The rogue whimpered softly but didn’t fight it.
“There you go,” Serena murmured. “Warmth first. Answers later.”
Then—
A burst of sound cracked through the trees.
A distant, muffled shout.
Dustin.
Serena’s blood turned to ice.
She rose in a flash, instincts roaring to life. Her mindlink blazed to full power.
Dustin? Dustin! Answer me!
Silence.
No.
Not again. Not like Rowan.
Serena clenched her fists.
“I have to go,” she told the young wolf. “But I’ll come back. I promise.”
She took one step—
The rogue whined sharply, staggering to her feet. Her legs trembled, but she pressed forward and nudged Serena’s thigh with her nose.
“…You want to help?” Serena breathed.
The wolf nodded.
Serena swallowed past the tightness in her throat and dropped into a crouch.
“Stay close. If something’s happening to Dustin, we need to move now.”
Together, woman and young wolf sprinted into the trees.
And far ahead—so faint it could’ve been the wind—Serena heard Dustin shout her name again.
- Writer
