Word Count: 2086

~Evoni

I break from my slumber to pain and the sound of birds chatting in a nearby tree.

My eyes blink open slowly, seeing the craggy ceiling of a cave. I can smell the acrid scent of burnt wood wavering next to me. When I turn my head, I see the remains of last night's fire and the absence of a particular werewolf.

I sit up dizzyingly fast.

Dawn has broken into the dim of the cave, carving out its own space in the shadows. Outside, the forest is still heavy with rich dark greens and the haze of fog, but the rain has relented.

I need to get out of here.

I struggle upward, keeping the furs locked around my almost naked body as I hunt for my clothing. They are still slightly damp, but thankfully not sodden through when I peel them off Maric's homemade line and onto my body.

The wound in my leg is especially tender. I swallow two painkillers from the first aid kit with what was left in my water bottle before I lace on my boots and face the day.

Maric is gone. Where, I don't care. He could have fallen into a river and been washed out to sea for all it matters to me.

I have no idea how to navigate this forest. I could wander around it for weeks in the wrong direction and get myself killed. Plus, Rowan told me to stay put if I'm ever lost.

But he didn't think I would have a werewolf chasing me down.

I just need to get back to where the flower sprouted. From there, I can navigate back with my map. Once I'm in sight of the road, I'll hope I have cell service or walk until I get back to town.

It's a solid plan...as long as Maric doesn't track me.

I take one step forward, out of the cave, and the plan falls apart.

Bitter, unyielding pain carves up my leg. It's enough to make it buckle. Favouring it while I dressed gave me faux confidence that I could make it out of here, but that idea is shot to hell now. No amount of cheap painkillers will touch this level of injury.

I buckle against the cave wall, bowing my head. I am done for.

"Going somewhere?"

I look up. Maric has appeared out of a cluster of trees.

He's fully dressed today, by some miracle. He wears the same trousers as yesterday, and has opted for a black t-shirt. I stare at it, confounded, for a few moments.

The fabric stretches over his generous muscles, showing the uncompromising definition of each one. It's a shirt I could see being bought from our town, which is the largest on the island.

I need to know which human is supplying them with human goods out here. How could such an agreement come to pass?

"I was hoping you had decided I am not of any worth to you, and were feeling magnanimous enough to return me to the road so I can go home." I offer a watery smile that isn't nearly as charismatic as I would hope.

A tightness creeps into my stomach the longer he stares at me beneath creased brows.

"You're not going home. Not armed with the knowledge you have."

I can sense the double meaning. My knowledge being of werewolves, but also of how to potentially create a fertility powder for members of his pack.

"What you're doing...it's cruel," I insist.

He breezes back into the cave, beginning to pack what little belongings he brought here.

"This isn't any easy decision for me." He slings his own pack over his shoulder. "It is a risk, bringing you home. In more ways than one."

"In what other way, beyond me potentially escaping and tattling your location to the humans in town?" It's not like I can kill any of them. Maric alone must be over 6 feet 6 inches. I imagine the others are the same.

He approaches me, and I almost stumble away. I don't calm until I realise he's lifting my pack off my shoulders, transferring it to his own.

"There is a prophecy," he admits.

I open my mouth, then close it again. A prophecy is mythology. No one can see glimpses into the future.

"One that...if true, will change everything." He looks out to the forest, as if the ancient boughs may offer him some wisdom.

"What is the prophecy, and what does it have to do with me?" I ask.

His eyes flash as he looks at me. "It isn't likely to do with you. But others may not see it so. They may see the bringing of a human into our pack as a sign of its truth."

"I assume that's a bad thing?"

He flinches, affronted. I want to know more about this prophecy, which clearly has something to do with a human, but I get the feeling he isn't interested in sharing the specifics with me.

Once again, I'm plunged into the dark of my own ignorance.

His eyes graze down over my leg. "You're too injured to walk. I will have to carry you."

I'm ready to vehemently protest, but what would be the point? Either I clamber onto his back and we spend one less minute in this cave, or I put my foot down and get dragged against my will anyway.

We begin our journey with me seated on his back. My legs swing around his hips, his stride not impacted by my weight. He moves with lethal grace and the near silence of a predator, his long legs swallowing up ground far more efficiently than I could imagine to.

At least I get a better view looking over his head than I would being flipped around on his shoulder.

We are silent most of the day. I'm too enraptured by our surroundings to capture his conversation, anyway.

The forest is stunning. Dark, but not entirely void of light. Eerie, but not desolate. Cold but not frigid. Nature thrives out here, the further we walk from humanity. I thought yesterday that nothing dares dwell out here, but I can hear birds flitting above the canopy, bugs creeping through the undergrowth and rabbits and deer scurrying in the distance.

He stops periodically so I can drink water and check my wound. Vaguely, I can feel the flush of fever warming my skin, but I ignore it.

If I have an infection, I am surely doomed. Either Maric returns me to civilisation, or I'll die out here.

We finally stop at dusk. Maric wastes no time lighting a fire, before he disappears to 'find dinner.' Whatever that means.

He's learnt I'm not stupid enough to run. I sit, warming my hands over the fire, being silently grateful the rain has held off.

The forest is still wet, though. I sit on my rain jacket to avoid dampening my ass, my knees curled up to my chest.

When Maric returns, I scream.

He emerges from the darkness with a great beast strewn over his shoulders. A deer, I realise, whose blood streams from a large cut on its stomach, down Maric's shirtless form in thick sheets.

It falls with a sickening thud at the edge of our campsite, oozing blood into the mossy forest floor.

"What is wrong?" He asks as I cower with my back to a tree, staring in wide-eyed horror at the deer's corpse.

"Why did you bring that here?" My voice wavers, the metallic scent of blood making me dizzy.

He peers at it, then me. "It's our dinner."

I swallow my rising nausea. I feel sick enough from what might be an infection, but this is downright disturbing.

I don't protest a moment more, though. I haven't eaten since yesterday's lunch, and I shouldn't be so haughty as to turn my nose up on venison when I happily eat meat back home.

"Very well," I murmur. "You caught it yourself?"

He nods, producing a dagger from his pack.

I hesitate. "In your...wolf form?"

His shoulders stiffen. "Yes," he admits warily, sensing judgment.

I don't say anymore. I just turn away, covering my ears so I don't have to listen to the gruesome sounds of him gutting the thing.

When I risk a look back, he's sliced a few slabs of meat from the flank, and is already beginning to cook them over the fire.

We don't speak again until we're eating.

"You must have an Alpha," I bring up, recalling what little I know about werewolves and their hierarchy of power.

He stills, eyes impossibly dark despite the ring of silver circling them.

"Yes. An Alpha governs our pack."

Interesting. "Will he kill me?"

He doesn't hesitate. "No."

"Is he...kind?"

This inspires the first ever hint of amusement I've seen in him since meeting him. The corner of his mouth lifts ever so slightly, the simmering condemnation easing from his eyes.

"I wouldn't describe him as such, no."

Looking at Maric, I can't even begin to imagine what his Alpha looks like. Their bloodline is supposed to be superior, so far above the strength of humans it's inconceivable.

I simply cannot believe it gets much better than Maric.

"How do you speak this language so fluently?" I ask.

"It was our language that humans stole." The warmth of his amusement vanishes as quickly as it was there.

I wince. I was never told that.

"Will the members of your pack attempt to kill me?" I'm scared of his answer before he can conceive of it.

"I assume so, yes."

He says it flippantly, chewing his venison thoughtfully. My mouth dries and my stomach turns at the image of werewolves in their beast form, tearing the flesh from my body.

Noting my silence, he glances over at me. "But they won't. Not if I tell them not to."

I'm not sure how good I feel about placing my life in his hands, but what other choice do I have? I can only hope their need for a fertility powder overrides their hatred of humans.

"Your Alpha will be okay with you bringing me?"

Again, he almost smiles. "He will be just fine with it."

I lean back on my hands, the heat of the fire licking over my sweat damp face. Despite its warmth, I'm cold to my bone, an occasional chill fluttering down my spine.

Maric watches me, a frown deepening between his brow. It almost looks sinister beneath the dark of night.

"You're very sick. You should let me heal you."

I look down at my leg. Blood has soaked through the bandage and my pants. It hurts to move, and my concern is that it's infected.

"If you let me go, I could get help for myself." I need antibiotics and for the wound to be stitched. I've lost enough blood as it is.

"Or I could help you."

I sigh. He's not licking my thigh. I won't allow it.

Tilting my head back, I stare at the cluster of glittering stars through gaps in the canopy. "I can only imagine what Rowan would think about all this."

I bet he's panicking. If I get out of this, he's going to tell me he told me so for the next year. It almost tempts me to consider staying in this forest forever, just to avoid giving him that satisfaction.

Maric angles his head, faintly curious. "Who is Rowan? You keep bringing up that name."

"He's my boyfriend," I tell him.

He stares at me blankly.

"My partner," I amend.

"You partner in what?"

I squeeze my eyes shut, muttering a plea for mercy under my breath.

"He's my...lover, I suppose."

Realisation spreads across his face, before his brows furrow. "That is good."

"Why?"

He shrugs, resuming his eating.

Sighing, I rest back onto the furs, straightening my leg. I watch Maric eat for a while, before the sight of him covered in coagulating deer blood makes me nauseous enough to roll onto my opposing side.

It doesn't take me long after, to fall asleep.

❤️••❤️

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~Midika 💜🐈‍⬛