Chapter 5 Boundary Tests

[Kaelan's POV]

The next morning, I pushed open the door and stepped directly over the threshold.

The patrol outside glanced up at me.

Didn't stop me.

I walked forward a few steps, then stopped and looked back at him. His face showed no expression, only knocked his spear against the ground once, as if reminding me not to go too far. I caught a whiff of suppressed awkwardness in the air, like they'd already been questioned about this last night and already knew the answer. I smiled slightly.

Seemed word had spread about last night's incident. I could leave the cabin.

I didn't try pushing into the forest again, only walked slowly along the path outside the cabin. The patrol remained within sight, but kept more distance than yesterday. Enough. Boundaries weren't broken through in one attempt—they were tested bit by bit.

Evening shift change came, and when I opened the door, I saw a young patrol crouched outside the cabin eating an apple.

Crunch, crisp and loud, the apple's fragrance drifting over.

He bit into his second piece, looked up and met my gaze, nearly choking. He frantically patted his chest.

I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching him.

"How'd you get stuck with this assignment—piss someone off?"

He coughed twice, stunned for a moment, then actually laughed.

"How'd you know?"

"Because normal people don't assign someone who makes noise eating apples to night watch."

He laughed harder, ears turning red. "I'm Finn."

"Kaelan."

"I know." He waved his apple. "The whole shift rotation knows by now."

I stared at him.

Realizing he'd said too much, he quickly added: "I mean, everyone knows you can—uh—come out and walk around now."

I didn't call him out, just looked at him quietly.

Finn clearly didn't understand silence. Within ten minutes, he was complaining about shift schedules, night shift mosquitoes, how the moon was too bright and kept people awake.

"And the most annoying part is the second half of the night." He tossed his apple core, lowering his voice. "First half, at least two people guard together. Second half, someone always gets called away, leaving just one person so tired they can barely keep their eyes open."

I filed that away.

He kept talking.

"The mess hall's been weird these past couple days too. The leader hasn't shown up. Last night's stew was terrible—if he'd been there, the kitchen crew wouldn't dare slack off."

Second piece of information.

I glanced at him. "You pay close attention to Draven?"

"God! Who in the Pack doesn't watch the leader? He's our hero! I hope someday I can be as brave as him! Wonder what's wrong with him these past few days though." Finn shrugged. "And Nyx. She's been cornering everyone, asking if they've seen you, heard what you said. So annoying."

Third piece.

I didn't ask more, to avoid seeming too deliberate. But he'd opened the door himself, making the rest easier. He spoke without guard, complaint after complaint, like finally finding someone who wouldn't snitch. I stood in the doorway listening, occasionally responding.

Deep into the night, he finally quieted down.

"You should go in," he said. "It's cold at night."

When I closed the door, silence fell outside. Lying in bed, I didn't close my eyes. Would he come tonight?

Soon, footsteps appeared.

Heavy, steady, stepping on frozen earth, crushing dead branches. Not like a person—like a wolf.

It circled the cabin once, then again, then once more.

Finally stopping at the door.

That low howl came through the door panel, kept very low, like a groan forced from the throat. I stood in the dark room, pressing my hand to the door. The wood was cold, trembling slightly, the breathing on the other side heavy, as if something was desperately restraining itself.

I didn't light a lamp or open the door.

The breathing on the other side grew heavier, shorter, as if control was slipping.

Suddenly the door shuddered from impact, claws scratching an ear-piercing sound against wood—slow, heavy, trying to tear through the door.

But as if desperately held back by something, the sound began diminishing.

Then came footsteps. It left, its scent slowly fading too.

I opened the door, staring at those three claw marks until the patrol shift changed and I snapped back to awareness.

The patrol saw the claw marks, then looked at me simultaneously.

I turned and went back inside, leaving silence behind.

The next day, when Eric came to change my bandages, I sat by the window hearing an argument not far away.

"He gave away his rations too?"

"The wounded need it more than he does."

"He's already missed three meals."

My fingers paused.

Eric was unwrapping the gauze on my arm, not looking up. "Don't move."

"Someone seriously injured in the medical tent?"

"Yes." He rewrapped the bandage tighter, tone flat. "None of your business."

But I'd already heard enough.

After he left, I slipped out along the shadow behind the cabin. The medical tent wasn't far from the training ground, with two Deltas helping carry water at the entrance—no one noticed me. I pressed against the rear canvas, peering through a gap.

Draven was crouched beside a makeshift bed.

The wounded soldier was paper-white, hands still shaking. Draven pushed a wooden plate forward—dinner, meat and black bread untouched.

"Eat," he said.

The wounded man spoke quietly: "Leader, you've already..."

"That's an order."

His voice wasn't loud, but the man immediately shut up, reaching to take the plate.

Draven crouched there unmoving, as if he had to watch the first bite before considering his job done. I stared at his profile, chest inexplicably tightening.

This wasn't like the man I knew. That man wouldn't care for the wounded—soldiers who couldn't fight were useless to him.

I retreated a half-step too late.

The canvas suddenly lifted, light flashing. Before I could turn around, a hand grabbed my arm. Draven pulled me over with such force I nearly crashed into his chest.

"Who gave you permission to come out?"

I looked up at him. His expression was terrible, fingers still gripping my arm with no intention of letting go. I was certain there'd be bruises there tomorrow.

The patrol quickly caught up, breathing ragged.

"Leader," one asked, "solitary confinement? Or double the guard?"

Draven released me.

Fingerprints immediately appeared on my arm.

He didn't answer.

The patrol waited briefly, got no response, and asked again: "Double the guard?"

Draven still didn't answer.

He just turned and walked away.

The two patrolmen exchanged glances, both their expressions changing.

From that day on, patrols around the cabin were halved.

No one told me why, and I didn't ask. But my radius of movement definitely expanded. I could walk to the training ground's edge, pass behind the kitchen's water tanks, circle to the creek before dark and return. When patrols saw me, they mostly just watched rather than following every step.

I began deliberately talking to them.

"What's your name?"

"Rhett."

The next day when I passed by, I called his name directly. "Rhett, you drew day shift today?"

He was stunned for a beat, as if not expecting me to remember, taking two seconds to grunt acknowledgment.

Once information starts flowing, it rolls faster and faster. Finn still chatted nonsense with me during night watch, other patrols occasionally chimed in.

Unconsciously, I was no longer just the prisoner locked alone in the cabin.

Evening, I went to the creek to clean my wounds.

The water was cold. I crouched on rocks, unwrapping old injuries on my arm to wash them clean. Water flowing over scabbed edges stung until my teeth clenched. I'd just rewrapped the cloth strips when coolness prickled across my back.

I looked up.

From the training ground direction, Nyx stood in shadows watching me.

She just stood there, gaze cold and hard, as if weighing something. The next second, she turned and left.

I stared at her retreating figure, slowly tightening the cloth knot.

Finn said she'd been asking about me constantly. Seemed she planned to watch me like a hawk.

That night, shift change passed by the cabin in hushed voices.

"You heard the howling too?"

"I'm not deaf—came from her cabin's direction."

Then silence.

They exchanged glances without saying more.

Later, Eric came to change bandages.

Before leaving, he dropped this: "The whole Pack heard the howling. Draven locked himself in the meeting room all day without coming out."