It’s the unbearable pain in my chest that prompts my wolf to come out without actively invoking it. Golden tresses of soft, silky fur unfurl from my head down, cloaking me in the safety and comfort of the embrace of my wolf as my bones crack to mold to the predator’s size. As an omega werewolf, I’m not as huge or imposing as the others, but I’m big enough to scare away the earthly creatures like raccoons and rabbits who cross my path.
It’s not like I have an appetite for any of the small animals I encounter along the way, and soon, my slow, hesitant trot turns into a desperate sprint through the Forest that leads toward Anchorage, a larger city comprised of tall buildings and operations that extend beyond sunset. If I shift into human form, I’ll be safe from any possible demon attacks; the city is full of humans.
I’ll have to slip into the Kenai Mountains and navigate the wilderness to get to Knik Arm. Navigating the Forest, I approach a hill that gives me a panoramic view of the bustling city below. As I shift into human form, a sigh of relief escapes my lips, but it isn’t all the way out before a surge of panic erupts through my spine and gathers like an acrid lump of bile in my throat.
“Ah!” I gasp, a hand flying to my throat as my eyes widen with recognition of the enraged energy that isn’t mine. I can feel it pulsing, racing through the being of my inner wolf, and it has me snapping my head in the direction I’d just come from.
My name is being chanted, but it isn’t audible to my ears, nor is it something occurring consciously to the voice that purrs my name like the mantra of a ritual before a sacrifice. My stalker is a skillful hunter from Snehvolk—the alpha who’s been on countless hunts for the demon.
Alpha Brooks is hunting me. It’s an intrinsic knowing, a feeling that ignites fiery goosebumps across the flesh of my forearms and has panic prickling the fine hairs on the back of my neck. I have to go right now, and there’s no time to blend in with the locals in Anchorage and pretend that I’m a human like them.
I’ve never felt my intuition so strongly that it propels me forward in human form, but it lands softly on the cushioned paws of my wolf. I’m spurred by the frenzy of panic overwhelming my senses that sends me into an uncalculated rush down the hill and through the nearest enclosure of tightly-knit trees growing in the forest.
My vision is blurred by my panic, and I rely purely on my instincts to carry me through the woods, dodging trees and scraping my furry shoulders against crumbling bark.
It’s probably a bad idea to run impulsively like this with no clear direction, leaving behind traces of my scent like breadcrumbs for the alpha to find me. But his wolf voice grows louder, menacing with the cruel intent to catch me, even if all it does is purr my name maliciously.
I shouldn’t be able to hear it, but it’s like a warning that signals my intuition, driving me further into the woods in unknown territory.
I can feel him. I can hear him breathing, hear him salivating as he closes in on me, his agile, powerful wolf a capable hunter who’s been hunting demonic spirits from the underworld for months now. I’m nothing more than a measly omega who has no clear direction of where she’s going, except to get as far away from him as possible without being caught.
My senses are ignited by the panic flooding my being, and I’m not as clear-minded as I should be. The only thing I remain conscious of is steering clear of human territory, not wanting to expose myself as a mythical shapeshifter who shouldn’t exist in the human world.
Sticking to the woods and going deeper until there’s no clear path in sight, I hear Alpha Brooks’s breathing getting louder in my eardrums, warning me that he’s steadily gaining on me.
I stop only to catch my breath, my front paws sinking into the mud where I’ve paused. I lug in huge breaths through my round nostrils, when a chill causes my fur to prickle.
A howl slices through the air and lashes at my panic, causing a greater stir.
That’s not the sound of a Snehvolk Pack member, but another wolf. The pitch is different, the rising and falling of the howl not as sustained or stable as the Snehvolk wolves.
My wolf body freezes from the influx of panic, my eyes widening to sharpen my vision to get a distinct idea of where I am, where I’d hastily run.
A smell enters my airways to alert me of the scents lingering in the air to mark the territory of a different pack of werewolves. My eyes quickly flit from left to right, bringing to my attention that I’m standing dead-center of a valley with a river cutting through on my left.
Alpha Brooks’s stalking chant is wiped out of my mind when audible barking and howls ring out to signal the coming of the werewolf pack.
I’m in trouble if I don’t move, but I have no idea which direction to run without getting caught.
What if the other pack finds me?
Though I’ve never been here before and this is uncharted territory for me, I guess that the valley I’ve found myself in is the Mat-Su Valley just outside of the city I’d been admiring on the hill, and home to the Valley Moon Pack—a longtime enemy of the Snehvolk.
My ears perk up to drink in the sounds of the enemy, and if I soak up any more panic, I might just pass out.
But from every direction that I snap my head in, I can hear the enemy pack’s werewolves howling or hissing or stomping their paws through the muddy turf as if they’re closing in on me.
I’m dead-center in the valley.
I’m the perfect target.
With my ears drumming with panic as if I’m at a bonfire celebration about to be flung to the licking flames like a sacrificial lamb, I see no way out of this mess. Just as my wolf is about to give up and retreat defeatedly to leave my cowering human form to face the enemy, I’m knocked in my ribs. The force knocks me onto my side, and I’m tumbling down and rolling toward the base of the mountain in a blur of my wolf vision.
Before I can make sense of what’s happening to me, a pair of strong human arms sweep me off the ground, prompting my frightened wolf to cower and sink into the far recesses of mymind, leaving me exposed in human form and vulnerable to the arms of my captor. But instead of becoming paralyzed with fear, I’m swept into the familiarity of the warmth that engulfs me, feeling tiny against a steely frame of muscles that prompts me to lift my eyes.
My breath is snatched when I meet the fierce, steely gray pools of eyes that glare at me ferociously, as if challenging me into silence when he swiftly sets me onto my rear and presses a finger to my lips.
“Shh,” Brooks warns flatly, sternly, his eyes not leaving mine as his jaw pulses when he clenches it tightly. “Don’t make a sound,” he grates through his teeth, his lips barely moving when he speaks.
