I nodded. "They speak no language I recognise from the gatherings, but yes, I agree. The injured male will need weeks of care and rest before he can travel again, and it's obvious their camp was destroyed in the storm. But he’ll need to be carried."
"I know. We'll build a stretcher."
We gathered the others and set to work, dragging more branches from the river's edge, stripping them of bark, lashing them together with leather cord. The work was familiar, almost meditative, but I couldn't stop myself from glancing over at the female every few moments.
She'd moved back to sit beside the injured male, her hand resting on his shoulder, her face drawn with exhaustion. The other male stranger, a wolf shifter by the scent of him, stood nearby, clearly trying to decide if we were a threat or an ally. Another female wolf shifter stood with him, his mate, I assumed.
When the stretcher was finished, we carefully transferred the injured male onto it. He groaned but didn't fight us, and the female spoke to him constantly in that soothing tone, her hand gentle on his arm.
Fen and Jarak unpacked some of the dried venison, and now they offered pieces of the cooked meat to the strangers. After a moment’s hesitation, hunger clearly won out and they took some gratefully.
I made sure I was the one to bring food to her.
She looked up as I approached, those wide eyes meeting mine with that same cautious assessment. I held out the portion of meat slowly, making sure she could see I meant no threat.
She hesitated, then reached out and took it from my hand. Our fingers brushed for a moment and I felt a rush of heat from her touch. She felt it too. I saw it in the way her eyes widened slightly, the way she pulled her hand back quickly and stared at me with confusion, her face colouring a little. Then she smiled.
It wasn't a big smile, just a small, tired quirk of her lips, but it transformed her entire face. Her eyes lit up, softening all the fear and exhaustion into something warm and genuine.
My chest felt too tight suddenly. Too full.
I stepped back before I did something foolish like reach out and touch her face.
Later,I told my bear firmly.Once we're back at camp and she's rested and that leg is properly treated. Then I can talk to Rivik and figure out what this is.
If this strange, fierce pull was real or just some trick of my mind. If she felt it too, or if I was imagining the way she kept glancing at me when she thought I wasn't looking.
We finished preparations to leave as the sun reached its height. Rivik had convinced the alpha of our intentions somehow, the stranger’s expression slowly shifting from suspicion to cautious hope.
The female tried to help organize the supplies, reaching for one of the strange packs they'd been carrying, but I moved to help without thinking, taking the pack from her hands.
She tried to protest, gesturing that she could manage, but I just shook my head firmly and tapped my chest, then pointed ahead to the path we'd be taking.I'll carry it. You just walk.
She stared at me for a long moment, then let out a breath and nodded. The fight went out of her shoulders. Acceptance, not surrender. She was smart enough to know when to conserve her strength, and I respected that more than I could say. I liked that she would let me do something for her.
She pointed at herself, then at the stretcher where the injured male lay, and mimed walking beside it.
I'll walk with him.
I nodded. That much I could allow, even if every instinct in me wanted to pick her up and carry her the entire way back to camp. She was limping very slightly, favouring her right leg, and the wound needed cleaning and stitching before infection set in. I’d make sure I examined it tonight when we made camp.
I slung the pack over my shoulder alongside my own. It was lighter than I'd expected, made of some strange material I'd never felt before. Smooth and tightly woven, nothing like leather or hide. Everything about these strangers was like that. Wrongbut fascinating. Their clothing, their tools, the remnants of their shelters.
Miska and Jarak lifted the stretcher with the injured male, positioning themselves carefully to keep it level. The small female moved to walk beside them immediately, her hand reaching out to rest on her companion's shoulder even as she limped.
I fell into position on her other side, close enough to catch her if she stumbled but far enough not to crowd her. Close enough to feel that strange pull, that sense ofrightnessthat shouldn't exist but did.
Rivik gave the signal to move out, and we started back up the side of the ravine along the northern route, the same path Rivik had planned to take us home before we'd heard the scream. The terrain climbed steadily, winding through sparse birch and pine that clung to the hillside in stubborn clusters though it would be at least another day’s travel before the trees would thicken into the forests that were our pack’s territory, and another three after that before we reached home.
CHAPTER 8
ELLIE
Ilost track of time somewhere after the third hour of walking, my entire world narrowing to the rhythm of putting one foot in front of the other. My leg throbbed with every movement despite the makeshift bandage, and I told myself I’d look at it when we made camp for the night. My lungs burned from the cold air and the relentless pace. My muscles trembled with exhaustion that went bone-deep, the kind of tired that made thinking feel impossible, and from Nathan’s and Megan’s face I could tell they felt the same after fighting the storm all night. But we kept moving because the wolves kept moving, and stopping meant being left behind to fend for ourselves. Even Nathan could see now that we needed their help.
They travelled in human form, laden with heavy packs that would have staggered me but barely seemed to slow them down. Bundles of meat from their hunt, supplies, weapons were strapped to their backs or slung across their shoulders with the casual efficiency of people who'd done this a thousand timesbefore. One wolf stayed in animal form, ranging ahead through the rocks, scouting the path in rotating shifts. Every few hours someone would peel off, shift, and take their turn, the transition so fluid and natural it was clear they often worked together.
I watched them with a kind of dazed fascination. The bear shifter, the healer with the deep brown eyes, checked on Dev constantly, adjusting the stretcher when the ground got rough, his large hands gentle as he repositioned Dev's splinted leg. He moved with quiet authority, the other wolves making space for him automatically, and I found myself tracking him through the journey even when I tried not to. There was something compelling about his presence. Not threatening, despite his size. Just... solid. Grounded. Like he was the kind of person who'd weather any storm without breaking.
