Chapter 3 3

CHAPTER THREE

NANCY

Why am I doing this?

My boots felt heavy as I continued walking toward the bridge. Every single one of my wolf instincts was screaming at me to turn back. I had a terrible feeling about this.

But that was exactly why I couldn't let it go. Looking at the dark silhouette of the boy on the edge, a sudden wave of panic hit me.

I was terrified he might do something reckless. It was stupid of me, really.

I had never met this male Wolf in my life. I had no idea why he was sitting out here alone on the dangerous border. But I felt it deep in my soul—something awful was about to happen if I didn't at least try to speak to him.

So, I forced myself to take one more step. “Hi.”

His head snapped around so fast that I stumbled back half a step in shock.

“What do you want?” His voice was deep, and angry. Maybe even disgust. Why my presence would disgust him, I didn't know. Maybe he was just furious at the world, and I happened to be the only unfortunate wolf around.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, trying to keep my voice steady. “I just came out here to sit by the river. I do that sometimes.”

“Did I fucking ask?”

I blinked. “Actually, you kind of did. You asked what I wanted.”

He rolled his golden eyes, letting out a sharp sigh of irritation. “Go away. Sit on some other rocks. Just get out of here.”

I should have. I knew I should have. He looked and sounded like he wanted to rip my throat out. Whatever pain or anger he was drowning in, he might easily decide to take it out on me. With a broad, muscular frame like his, overpowering a weak wolf like me wouldn't take any effort at all.

But deep down, my inner wolf didn't feel any immediate malice from him. I didn't know why. It was a gut feeling.

A wounded animal will strike if it feels trapped, but only because it is hurting. What it truly needs is help. I wondered what kind of help a broken wolf like me could even offer someone like him.

That thought kept my feet moving forward. He turned his head back to the rushing water, pretending to completely ignore me, but I wasn't fooled. His jaw twitched, and I could hear the faint, brutal grinding of his teeth. Maybe that was a good thing. Instead of shifting or lunging at me, he was fighting to hold himself back.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly.

“Yes.”

“Because you looked upset.”

“Did I ask you how I looked? Why are you still here?” he demanded through gritted teeth, his shoulders squaring dangerously. “I told you to fucking leave.”

“Yeah, I know, but I guess I don’t want to go yet.” I shifted my weight from one boot to the other. It was incredibly difficult standing here when he so clearly wanted me gone. Standing up to that creepy wolf a few minutes ago at the tavern was one thing, but this male was a completely different level of danger.

Slowly, carefully, I sat down on the very edge of the wooden walkway, making sure not to lean too close to the drop. The wood creaked loudly under my weight, making my blood run cold. Still, I doubted the bridge would collapse with just the two of us sitting here.

“Here,” I said, holding out my cup. The steam from the hot herbs carried a sweet aroma between us. “You look thirsty. Do you like morning tea with wild honey?”

He stared at the cup, his brow furrowing. “Wild honey? Aren’t there enough plain tracking rations in the barracks without mixing sweet things into the water?”

Even though he grumbled, his hand reached out. He took the cup from my fingers.

“I like it,” I murmured, watching him. “It’s sweet and warm. It makes you feel like things are fine, even when they aren't.”

“Why not just accept when things are bad?” He took a small sip anyway.

A tiny warmth bloomed in my chest. It felt like a small victory. It gave me the courage to keep the conversation going.

“It’s pretty early to be out on the pack borders,” I noted. “Were you practicing your tracking runs?”

He set the cup down on the wooden plank between us, rubbing his broad palms over his thighs.

When he didn't speak, I kept talking just to fill the silence. “I was just going for a walk. I’ve been staying in the central cabin shelter with my family for a bit, and the walls feel like they’re closing in. I’m tired of breathing that stale, indoor air, you know? The high stone windows in those temporary rooms don't even open. I guess the Alpha's council doesn't want unstable wolves throwing themselves out.”

Ouch.

The moment the words left my mouth, I froze. Maybe that wasn't the best thing to say to a male who looked exactly like he wanted to dive into a deadly, rushing river.

But he only let out a low, dark snort, shrugging his massive shoulders. “Probably.”

I let out a soft sigh, looking across the mist-covered water. “You know, quiet mornings like this remind me of when I was a little pup. It always felt special to be awake before the rest of the pack. 

The sun is barely rising, and the warriors are still asleep in their dens. Everything is completely still. You can actually hear the birds waking up.”

He responded grudgingly, his eyes tracking a floating leaf in the current. “I guess so. I never really paid attention to the birds.”

“I used to love it when my father would take me out to track the river fish,” I lied smoothly, swinging my legs back and forth over the running water. I was glad I had worn my tight-laced leather boots instead of my loose training slippers. If one fell into the rapid currents below, it would be gone forever. “That’s when I would get up early. We would head out into the deep woods, and it would still be pitch black when we left our cabin.”

“Did you go out to the rivers a lot?” he asked. His voice was completely flat, but his ears twitched. I couldn't tell if he was actually listening or if he just wanted a distraction from whatever was torturing his mind. Either way, I didn't care.

“Only sometimes. Usually during the high summer moons. He had more time for me then. We would get into a canoe, and he would paddle us right into the middle of the deep lake.”

“Which lake?” He asked sharply.

I bit my bottom lip, my heart doing a strange flutter. “I... I don’t remember. I don’t think he ever told me the true name of the waters. And I was too small of a pup to care. He always fixed the bone hooks for me. I would just sit there in the boat, holding the line, and he would show me how to pull the catch in.” I mimed pulling a thick hemp rope hand-over-hand.

He turned his head slowly, his piercing gaze pinning me to the spot. “What kind of fish did you catch in the deep lakes? Were you any good at providing for your den?”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “I don’t remember the names of the creatures.”

“Probably rivers with Whitebait,” he said. “They are small, weak, and easy for a useless pup to trap. Did your family cook them over the fire?”

“Sure,” I stammered, trying to keep up the lie. “He would slice them open, pull the guts out, and roast them.”

“Whitebait aren't fish you gut and eat,” Kael said coldly, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. “They are the size of a fingernail. They are used as bait to catch real predators. You can't roast them.”

My breath caught. “Then... then I must have gotten the name wrong. What difference does it make?”

“You know what I think?” He murmured, 

“No,” I whispered, gripping the edge of the wood. “What?”

“I don’t think you’ve ever been to a lake with your father,” he said, “I don’t think you’ve ever been tracking or fishing in your life.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Just a guess.” He raised a dark eyebrow, his eyes daring me to challenge him. The look in his eyes wasn't just curious anymore—it was calculating. 

I let out a breath, shrugging my shoulders to hide how hard my heart was beating. “Fine. You caught me. I’ve never been fishing.”

“Why would you make up a lie like that to a stranger?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Now?” He picked up the cup again, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that made me want to run far away. “Yeah. I do. That is a very random lie to pull out of thin air when you are sitting on my pack's border.”