I couldn’t allow my inner wolf to make that mistake. So even though I questioned why she was out there that night and proceeded to listen to how she didn’t receive her wolf on her birthday, it was that mere fact that drove my determination to keep my inner wolf at bay.
As an alpha and leader of the Snehvolk Pack, I could never be bound to a mate bond with the lowly omega. When she claimed she loved me, I was shocked.
Had she sensed it too?
Or was she just out of her mind?
It’s probably the latter. Aurora Sinclair’s wolf is too weak to have found a mate bond with an alpha of my caliber.
So why does the memory of that night still haunt me as I tread through the snowy forest?
As I swat at a low-hanging branch on my way through the forest, the mist of snow caught on the tree stops me in my tracks. The cloud of white takes me back to the moment Aurora gasped in horror when I rejected her. I could have sworn that I saw the air leaving her lips as if her soul was leaving her body, the clutches of my rejection draining the life out of her. My brutal words of rejection were as good as clamping a hand over her throat and constricting her breathing.
I was only riddled with guilt because I would never dare to harm a fellow pack member, even if she’s the half-breed whose father mated with a human.
My hands curl into fists at my sides just as I take a deep breath of crisp, cold Alaskan air that helps to douse the flames of my inner wolf’s seemingly instinctual but unwarranted fury in the throes of my mind.
I won’t let it win—not when the pack’s safety is at stake. That is my main concern, and forsaking one life to save the lives of three hundred werewolves is a neutral decision any good alpha would make. Aurora Sinclair is nothing but an outcast in Snehvolk, and sacrificing her is a justified cause.
As I trudge ahead, stomping my boots through the thick snow blanket covering the southwest side of the valley, I pick up on a scent distinctive of a Snehvolk wolf—even if she’s just a half-breed. The musk scent can be found on all of our wolves, making it easier to trace even when the heavy Alaskan snowfall leads into the Winter Solstice. Still, I find myself absentmindedly reaching into my pocket to produce the shred of Aurora’s dress, just to be sure, just to appease my inner wolf, who suddenly becomes rabid inside my head.
Its bout of crazed panic has me crumbling the piece of fabric in my hand and stuffing it to my nose, my heart pounding against my ribcage with bestial frenzy as if I would suddenly consume the cotton material. A pang of hunger grips the pit of my belly, and I realize how absurd this is.
Catching myself in the midst of a manic episode, a growl reverberates in my chest as I reproachfully fling the fabric to the ground. I’ve already inhaled enough of Aurora’s scent to know that she’s close by. Following my instincts, I stomp through the snow until I near the base of the mountains.
The grove of tightly woven hemlock trees opens up to the valley where the river is frosted over by the snow, the icicles glinting like sparkling diamond crusts. Usually, in wolf form, I would enjoy the sights of the Alaskan landscape, soaking up the tranquility that comes with being out here alone. But now that the demon is upon us, that little slice of solace I’d often find is no longer mine.
Not because I can’t take on the malevolent creature by myself, but because I’m out here looking for the runaway omega.
Remembering why I’m here tonight in the first place, I close my eyes and allow my innate senses to take over, sniffing the air and finding the direction of Aurora’s distinct scent in the midst of the gentle snowfall. A flake settles on the top of my nose, the coldness prompting me to open my eyes just in time to feel an eerie chill rake over my spine, prickling the fine hairs on the back of my neck.
My inherently hot body temperature is no match against the Alaskan air, which suddenly feels colder. My instincts kick in, and I scan my surroundings, only to realize that the air has turned dark.
The way goosebumps pebble the flesh of my arms signals a warning. My eyes become focused when my wolf eyes ignite like burning embers, allowing me to see beyond my human form and through the eerie darkness that settles over my surroundings. A dissonant screech pulls my attention toward the right, where I see it for the first time.
The demon dog…
Unlike the myths and tales we were told, it's nothing like what I imagined. It’s much more shocking. The malignant spirit coasts the ground, barely touching the snow and merely brushing the tips of its feet as it prowls forward. Much like a dog,its bony frame is cloaked by a shaggy suit that pulls taut against the structure of muscles and moves fluidly with each calculated breath. A purple tongue laps from its sharply pointed mouth, the glint in its black eyes telling that it’s found its next prey.
A sudden jolt of awareness courses through me, but I’m too appalled by the demon’s appearance to make a move.
Not only is the demon within reach, but it’s headed for Aurora. I can tell by the richness of her scent extending from the cave where the demon is headed. The ghastly creature found her before I could, and she’s about to become its next meal.
Just as the pack had planned.
Chapter 4 - Aurora
It’s impossible that I’m overcome with intense exhaustion after only a few hours on foot.
I guess this is what happens when you’re out of shape. It’s not like I can help it—I’ve tried every possible method to get fit, and even tried to use my latent witch powers to develop my wolf, in the hopes that doing so would ensure a better standing in the pack.
Failing dismally at both, I am still the resident outcast.
Well, not anymore.
I may not have the full abilities of a werewolf, unable to shift at will, but I do have the instincts of my witch heritage that make navigating the forest easier than I thought it would.
Adrenaline pulses through my veins, deafening my logical mind that would keep me dwelling on the fact that the Snehvolk Pack was set on sacrificing me to the malevolent spirit of the demon. I may not have encountered the creature or witnessed its wrath, but my grandmother told me enough tales about it to send a shiver down my spine even now.
