Chapter 17: Chapter 17

SELENE

The scent of blood still clung to the trees. Even here, beyond the main village, the aftermath of the battle refused to fade. The damp earth beneath my boots was dark, still heavy with moisture from the morning rain, but there were places where it had dried sticky. Where the dirt had drunk deep.

The wind barely stirred the canopy, the usual rustling of leaves muffled, almost hesitant—like even the forest was waiting. Watching.

My own breath felt too loud in the quiet.

I forced myself to keep walking.

Each step felt heavier than the last, but I needed the space. The air. The village was suffocating today—too many grieving faces, too many whispered names of the dead. I had nothing to offer them.

Nothing to offer myself.

But the further I walked, the more the unease settled into my skin, sinking into my bones.

I wasn’t alone.

A shift in the air. A presence.

Someone was watching me.

I didn’t stop. Didn’t turn. Instead, I quickened my pace, forcing my breathing to remain steady, pretending not to notice. But whoever it was—they wanted me to know they were there.

The snap of a twig.

The brush of movement against the undergrowth.

I turned sharply, heart pounding, ready to run, and walked straight into someone.

A firm hand shoved me back.

I stumbled, my boots skidding against the dirt before I caught myself, breath hitching as I looked up and met Maeve’s gaze.

Shit.

The trees loomed around us, the branches arching overhead like a cage. The scent of pine and damp earth mixed with the distant burn of smoke from the village, curling faintly through the air. The light was beginning to fade, dusk creeping in, but Maeve’s eyes still caught the dim light—sharp, unreadable.

She stood in front of me, arms crossed, her expression twisted into something cruel.

~“Going somewhere, little mortal?”~

I swallowed hard, straightening my shoulders.

Maeve was a fighter. A survivor. And she had never liked me.

She looked me up and down, unimpressed. “I thought you’d have the sense to stay hidden today. Not parade around like you actually belong here.”

I clenched my jaw, forcing my voice to stay even. “I was just walking.”

She took a slow, deliberate step forward, blocking my way.

“No,” she murmured. “You were running.”

A slow, sinking feeling curled in my stomach.

Maeve wasn’t just here to intimidate me. She wanted a reaction. She wanted me to understand my place.

I forced my breath to stay steady. “Move.”

She laughed. ~Laughed.~ Like I’d said something funny.

“You really think mouthing off to the alpha in front of the pack earns you respect?” she scoffed. “You think we look at you and see anything other than a joke?”

I swallowed, clenching my hands into fists.

Maeve’s voice lowered, her eyes flashing with something colder, something meaner.

“You’re a mortal, Selene,” she sneered. “You’re nothing. And if you think the alpha actually gives a damn about you, you’re even more pathetic than I thought.”

My breath hitched.

Maeve stepped closer, too close, leaning in slightly, her next words sharp as a knife to the throat.

“He’s using you.”

I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. But she saw it. She saw the way my fingers tightened at my sides. The way my breath shook just slightly, and she smiled.

“He’ll get bored,” she whispered. “And when he does, you’ll be nothing. No wolf will come running to save you, no one will care when you’re left behind. You don’t belong here, Selene. You never did.”

My throat tightened.

I knew what Maeve was trying to do. I knew it shouldn’t have gotten to me.

But it did.

Because I’d ~thought it too.~

So many times.

Maeve could ~smell~ it, and it was obvious she was enjoying it.

I could hear it in her breathing, the slow inhale, the way she rolled her shoulders like she was settling in for something more than just insults. Like she was waiting for me to ~break.~

Or maybe—~fight back.~

The wind shifted slightly, rustling the underbrush, carrying the distant hum of voices from the village. The sky overhead was darkening, the last slivers of gold disappearing behind the horizon.

I squared my stance, keeping my expression neutral, refusing to let her see the flicker of doubt curling at the edges of my mind.

“You done?” I asked, my voice steady.

Her lips twitched, and that was my only warning before she struck.

I barely had time to react before her hand snapped out, fingers gripping the collar of my shirt and yanking me forward, shoving me hard enough that my back slammed against a tree.

Pain shot up my spine, the rough bark biting into my skin.

But I didn’t cry out.

I wouldn’t give her that.

“Careful,” she murmured, her breath warm against my face. “You’re talking like you actually have a place here.”

I gritted my teeth, my pulse hammering in my ears.

Alpha Theron had trained me. Not much, but enough to survive. Enough to fight back.

I could feel every lesson thrumming beneath my skin, the instinct to move, to strike, to ~not hesitate.~

So I didn’t.

I shifted my weight, breaking her hold with a sharp pivot of my shoulders. She faltered for a second—just a second—but it was enough.

I grabbed her wrist, twisted it just enough to throw her off balance.

She let out a sharp hiss, surprised.

But I didn’t wait for her to recover.

I drove my elbow into her ribs. ~Hard.~

Maeve grunted, stumbling back a step.

Shock flickered across her face, but it was gone just as fast—replaced by something darker.

Something ~furious.~

And then—she smiled.

~Oh fuck.~

“Not bad,” she mused, rolling her shoulders, tilting her head. “Looks like the alpha’s been teaching his little pet some tricks.”

The trees stood like silent sentinels, their towering forms blocking what little light remained as the sun dipped behind the mountains. The wind had died down entirely, leaving the forest unnervingly still. The scent of damp earth, pine, and faint traces of smoke from the village fires curled around me, but beneath it all, I could ~smell~ the blood still seeping from my wounds—metallic and thick, mixing with the sweat clinging to my skin.

I clenched my fists. The dirt beneath my nails was damp, clinging to my fingertips. The uneven forest floor was scattered with jagged rocks and fallen branches, the roots of trees stretching like twisted veins in the earth. Shadows stretched between the trunks, the thick undergrowth rustling softly in the heavy silence.

And I realized, too late—

No one was coming.

This was between me and Maeve.

And she was just getting started.

My stomach twisted, but I held my ground. Maeve exhaled slowly, and for a second, I thought maybe—~maybe~—she was going to let this go.

Then…her bones cracked.

The sound sent an icy spike of fear through my veins.

Her body convulsed as the shift rippled through her, ~fast~, seamless, her skin pulling taut before fur erupted across her limbs. Her nails elongated into claws, her face contorting, teeth lengthening into sharp, glistening fangs. A slow, sick smile pulled at her lips, the last hint of humanity flickering before she was gone.

And just like that—I wasn’t fighting a she-wolf anymore. I was fighting a ~wolf.~

A real one.

My stomach plummeted. Mortal vs. wolf was a one-way street to death.

I ~ran.~

I twisted on my heel, shoving off the ground, sprinting through the trees, my pulse slamming in my ears.

The forest blurred around me, shadows twisting, my lungs burning as I pushed harder, faster, the sound of claws ~tearing~ into the dirt right behind me—~too close.~

~Too close.~

Branches scraped against my arms as I ducked low, dodging roots that jutted from the ground. The cold night air burned my throat, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. The underbrush rustled violently behind me, Maeve’s massive form a blur of movement, her breath a hot, furious gust against my back.

A snarl ripped through the air.

Then—~impact.~

A ~crushing~ weight slammed into me, sending me ~flying.~

I hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air from my lungs, my cheek scraping against dirt and stone as Maeve’s wolf form loomed over me.

Teeth.

Claws.

~Death.~

I struggled, twisting my body, but she was too strong. Too fast.

Her breath was ~hot~ against my throat, her growl vibrating through my bones. And I knew—I wasn’t walking away from this.

Maeve’s teeth ~sank~ into my shoulder, tearing through flesh, sending a white-hot shock of agony ripping through my body.

All I felt was ~pain.~

Blinding, searing, bone-deep pain.

I ~screamed.~

The sound barely made it past my throat before she ~threw me down~ like a ragdoll, my body crashing hard into the dirt.

I tried to move—tried to fight—but she was ~on me again.~

Her claws raked across my side, a brutal, wet tearing sound filling the air as her talons sliced through skin. Blood poured down my ribs, ~hot~ and ~slick~, staining the earth beneath me.

I gasped, choking on the sharp sting, my vision blurring at the edges.

Too fast.

She was ~too fast.~

I barely had time to bring my arms up before she lunged again.

This time, her claws caught my thigh, and my leg ~buckled.~

I hit the ground hard, breath hitching as a fresh wave of pain exploded through me. My head spun, my body screaming in protest, but I didn’t stop moving.

I ~rolled~, scrambling backward, my hands clawing at the dirt, desperate to put any distance between us. My boots slipped on loose gravel, my palm catching against a jagged rock as I twisted, barely dodging the next swipe of her claws.

Maeve ~stalked~ forward, her massive wolf-form a blur of muscle and gleaming teeth. Her golden eyes glowed with something vicious, something ~feral~, something that promised she wasn’t finished.

She wasn’t just trying to scare me.

She was going to ~kill me.~

And no one was coming to stop her.

The trees stretched tall above us, their bare branches forming dark, skeletal shapes against the night sky. The air was thick, heavy, ~watching~. The wind didn’t move.

Everything was ~still.~

Maeve let out a low, satisfied growl, stepping closer, closer—

And then—

She ~lunged.~

I threw my arms up, bracing for the final blow.

But it never came.

Because the moment Maeve’s claws should have torn into me—

A ~roar~ split the air.

Deep. ~Deadly.~

Not a snarl.

Not a growl.

A ~warning.~

No. Not a warning—~a promise.~

Maeve barely had time to turn before something ~massive~ crashed into her, sending her ~flying~ across the clearing.

I gasped, my heart hammering, my vision swimming—

And then I ~smelled him.~

~My alpha.~

The ground ~shook~ as he landed between us, his form towering, a mass of ~pure power~. His massive white wolf stood before me, fur bristling, muscles ~coiled~, every inch of him radiating an undeniable, unyielding ~rage.~

I could ~feel~ it rolling off him, dark and violent.

Maeve scrambled up, her own wolf form smaller, leaner—~outmatched.~

She ~knew it too.~

A snarl curled from his throat, sharp, edged with ~promise.~

Maeve didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

The entire forest seemed to ~hold its breath.~

I did too.