Chapter 2
1064 Words
CHAPTER TWO
The desert air burns my lungs as Ryan and I pound across the sand. The scent of smoke is a punch to the senses, guiding us back to the village with grim urgency. Flames lick at the night sky, and our pack's communal howl of distress and anger echoes against the stark landscape.
"Stay close," I bark at Ryan, my voice rough with tension.
"Always," he replies, his form a blur of power beside me.
We shift seamlessly into our wolf forms, instincts taking over as we weave through the chaos. The heat presses in, almost as suffocating as the sight of our neighbor's house engulfed in flames. It's an attack, no question about it—the work of the rival pack, their signature brand of cruelty.
"Help them out!" I command, nodding towards the small figures huddled by the wreckage.
Ryan nods, his wolf eyes fierce with resolve.
That's when I see him—a rogue male wolf darting into the fray, his coat a shade of midnight unlike any I've seen before. He doesn't hesitate, leaping through the blaze and emerging with an elder in his jaws. There's something about him, something that calls to me, a siren song in the midst of disaster.
"Who is that?" Ryan growls, catching my gaze lingering on the stranger.
"No idea," I admit, my heart thrumming in a rhythm I don't understand.
"Doesn't matter. Focus, Lily. We have work to do."
"Right," I agree, but my attention is split. Part of me wants to rush towards the rogue, to ask why he's here, what drives him to risk his life for a pack not his own.
"Come on!" I call to the others, trying to shake off the strange pull towards the mysterious wolf. But it lingers, like the taste of something f*******n.
"Water! We need water!" someone shouts, snapping me back to reality.
"Here," the rogue wolf barks, his voice gravelly and raw. He's pointing with his snout towards a nearby well.
“That’s dry,” I answer, reaching my mind link out to him.
“There’s some still in there. I smell it.” His gaze lingers on mine, holding my very soul.
"Then let’s get to work," I say, more to myself than to him. I can feel Ryan's gaze heavy on me, filled with questions I'm not ready to answer.
"Get to work!" I command, shifting into my human form and taking charge as Ryan’s second and rallying the pack. We form a makeshift bucket brigade, passing containers of precious water from hand to hand.
The minutes seem to creep by, but finally the fire is out. The house isn’t completely destroyed—it will need repairs—but at least everyone is safe.
"Who are you?" I finally ask the rogue wolf, unable to quell my curiosity.
But before he can answer, an explosion rocks the ground beneath us, sending a shockwave of heat and debris into the air. Something hits my head, the world tilts, and the last thing I see before darkness claims me is the rogue wolf, his body shielding mine, and then… nothing.
***
My head throbs, but consciousness claws its way back. I blink away the haze and focus on the figure hovering over me. It's him—the rogue.
Except he’s shifted back into his human form—a boy around my age, about eighteen or so, with thick brown hair and hazel eyes.
"Easy," he says, his voice a deep rumble that seems to vibrate through my bones. "You took quite a hit. The house exploded, probably from some oil or gas. A piece of rubble got you in the head.”
I sit up, ignoring the dizziness. The night air is heavy with the scent of charred wood and victory. The fire is out. Our pack is safe—for now. But the rogue, this stranger, is still an enigma.
"Who are you?" I manage to ask, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.
"Jake." He regards me with piercing eyes, a stark contrast to the softness in his tone. "I was passing through when I saw the smoke."
"Jake..." I repeat, tasting the name. It feels right on my lips, like a missing piece slotted into place. I'm close enough to see flecks of gold in his eyes, to feel the warmth radiating from his body. My wolf stirs, drawn to him.
"Thanks for helping," I say, trying to regain some semblance of control. "But why risk your neck for us?"
He shrugs, a casual gesture that belies the intensity of his gaze. "Couldn't just watch and do nothing."
"Most would've." I stand, swaying slightly. His steadying hand on my arm sends electric jolts skittering across my skin.
"Most aren't me," he replies with a half-smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"Clearly." I pull away, more to save myself from the magnetic pull than out of any real desire for distance. "You should go before—"
"Before what?" Jake asks, tilting his head—an almost wolfish movement.
"Before Ryan sees you." I glance towards where our Alpha is coordinating the cleanup. "He won't be as grateful."
"Scared to ruffle some feathers?" Jake’s challenge is gentle, but it strikes a nerve.
"Feathers? No." I meet his gaze squarely. "But loyalties run deep here."
"Even if they're not by choice?" His question lingers between us, heavy with unspoken implications.
"Especially then." I can't look away. I don't want to.
"Interesting." Jake steps closer, and I'm caught in his gravity once again.
"Ryan trusts me," I say, though I'm not sure whom I'm trying to convince.
"Should he?" Jake’s voice is barely above a whisper, but it resonates like thunder.
"Always." The word is a lifeline I cling to, even as doubt creeps in.
"Good." He nods, stepping back. "Wouldn't want to cause any trouble."
"Trouble finds us easily enough without help," I joke weakly, attempting to lighten the mood.
"Seems that way." His smile is genuine this time, but it fades quickly.
“You!” Ryan barks, stalking toward us on his long, strong two legs. “Who are you?”
Jake lifts his chin. “Just a friendly wolf passing through.”
“You don’t look so friendly to me,” Ryan says, and before I can even react he shifts, lunging right for Jake’s throat.
- Writer
