Moonbound

Chapter 7: Shadows in the Night

That night, sleep doesn't come easily. I toss and turn, my mind restless, filled with lingering shadows from the day's training. My muscles ache, but it's a satisfying ache, a reminder of how much I've pushed myself. Still, a tension lingers—a sense of something lurking just beyond my reach, just out of sight.

As I lie there, clutching Selene's necklace, a faint sound catches my attention. It's soft at first, barely audible, like the whisper of leaves against a distant breeze. I strain to listen, every muscle tensing as the sound grows louder. Footsteps, perhaps? It's hard to tell. My senses are heightened, my focus narrowing as I try to make out what's happening.

{Athena,} I murmur, my voice barely a whisper, {do you hear that?}

{Yes, and it's coming from outside,} she replies, her voice alert. {Stay sharp. Whoever it is, they're not here to make friends.}

Quietly, I slip out of bed, careful not to make a sound as I move toward the door. I crack it open, just enough to let the faint scent of pine and damp earth fill my senses. But underneath that is something sharper, something that sends a chill down my spine—an unfamiliar scent, one that carries an edge of danger.

Slowly, I inch forward, following the scent as it grows stronger, more pungent. It leads me down the hall, through the shadows, and toward the back of the pack house. The air grows colder, and I feel a prickle of unease as I step outside, the chill of the night biting into my skin.

The scent leads me to the edge of the forest, where the shadows are deepest, and the silence feels heavier, more oppressive. I pause, listening, my breath shallow as I strain to pick up any sign of movement. But there's nothing, just the steady hum of the forest around me.

Suddenly, a hand clamps down on my shoulder, and I spin, instinctively reaching for the dagger strapped to my side. I thrust it forward, but the intruder is quick, grabbing my wrist and twisting it, forcing me to drop the blade.

"Freya, easy. It's me," comes a familiar voice—Max's voice. He releases my wrist, and I step back, feeling my pulse race.

"Max," I exhale, my voice edged with annoyance. "What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?"

He chuckles softly, but there's no warmth in it. "I could ask you the same. What are you doing out here alone?"

I take a step back, reclaiming my space. "I heard something," I reply, my tone defensive. "And I followed it. There was a scent... someone was here."

Max is silent for a moment, and I can feel his gaze on me, appraising. "You're right. There was someone here, but they're gone now. It's best to return to the pack house."

I narrow my focus, trying to catch any lingering traces of the intruder, but the scent has faded, leaving only the familiar smell of pine and soil. "You're sure they're gone?" I ask, not willing to let my guard down.

"Yes," he replies, a note of finality in his voice. "Now come on. You shouldn't be out here alone."

Reluctantly, I follow him back inside, though every instinct screams at me to stay on alert, to keep searching. Whoever had been outside was watching us, lingering in the shadows, and I have a feeling they won't be the last.

The next morning, I'm up before dawn, the tension from the night lingering like a weight in my chest. I'm restless, my mind racing with questions, but I push them aside as I focus on the day's training. Today, Killian has us sparring in wolf form, testing our agility and strength in a series of brutal exercises.

The first few rounds go smoothly. I take down each opponent with a calculated precision, my movements fluid and controlled. But as the training intensifies, Killian ups the stakes, pairing me with two wolves at once. The challenge is immediate and relentless, each attack pushing me harder, faster, demanding more than I think I can give.

Athena's instincts guide me, but it's not enough. I dodge a swipe from one wolf, only to be knocked off balance by the other, their claws raking against my side. Pain lances through me, sharp and searing, but I grit my teeth, pushing forward, refusing to back down.

{Stay focused,} Athena urges, her voice a steady pulse in the back of my mind. {They're trying to wear you down. Don't let them.}

I dig deep, tapping into the well of strength Selene spoke of, and launch myself at the nearest wolf, sinking my teeth into their shoulder. They yelp, backing off, but the other wolf is quick to take advantage, ramming into my side and sending me sprawling.

I hit the ground hard, the impact jolting through me, but I force myself to my feet, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. The wolves circle me, their grunts of annoyance low, and I can feel their hunger, their drive to win. For a moment, doubt flickers through me—a fleeting thought that maybe I'm not strong enough, that maybe I can't keep up.

But then I remember the respect in my father's words, the quiet respect that said he saw something in me worth fighting for. I remember the visions, the strength I've been promised, and I push forward, throwing myself into the fight with renewed determination.

The wolves close in, their movements a blur of fur and teeth, but I'm ready. I dodge, weave, and counter, my body a finely tuned weapon. I manage to sink my claws into one wolf's side, feeling a surge of satisfaction as they back off, whimpering.

By the time Killian calls a halt, I'm breathing heavily, my body aching, but there's a fierce pride burning in my chest. I may be bruised and bloodied, but I've held my own.

Later that afternoon, Killian pulls me aside, his tone serious. "You did well today, but I want you to be careful. There are forces at work that even I don't fully understand, and I have a feeling you're caught in the middle of something bigger than either of us."

Feeling a prickle of unease, I say, "What do you mean?"

"There are rumors," he replies, his voice low, "of rogue wolves moving through the territories. Wolves that answer to no Alpha, wolves that are driven by something darker. If they've set their sights on you, it's because they see you as a threat."

I swallow, the weight of his words settling over me. "What do we do?"

"We train," he replies, a steely edge to his voice. "We train until you're strong enough to face whatever comes your way. And we keep our guard up. Always."

That night, as I prepare to settle into bed, I catch that same scent from the night before—sharp, pungent, and unmistakably close. My heart pounds, and I slip out of bed, moving to the window. The air is cold, biting into my skin as I strain to listen, my senses on high alert.

{Athena,} I murmur, {they're back.}

{Yes. And they're not alone,} she replies, a hint of fear creeping into her voice. {We need to be ready. Whoever they are, they're closing in.}

I slip out of my room, moving quietly down the hall. The pack house is silent, the air thick with an eerie stillness. I make my way to the back door, my pulse racing as I step outside, the cold night wrapping around me.

The forest stretches out before me, a sea of shadows and silence. I take a few steps forward, my senses stretching outward, searching. But there's nothing—just the quiet rustle of leaves and the faint whisper of the wind.

And then, suddenly, the air around me feels heavy and dark like the shadows, a presence like a dark stain on the night. I tense, my heart hammering in my chest as they move closer, their steps slow and deliberate. I can't see their face, but I can feel their intent, their hunger—a hunger that sends a shiver down my spine.

I take a step back, every instinct screaming at me to run, but I stand my ground, my hand tightening on the dagger at my side. I won't back down. Not now, not ever.

The figure stops, their voice a low, mocking whisper that cuts through the silence. "You think you're strong enough to face me? You're nothing but a blind little girl, stumbling in the dark."

Anger flares within me, hot and fierce, and I grip the dagger tighter, feeling Athena's presence surge within me. I may be blind, but I am not weak. And I will not let this stranger's words break me.

I take a step forward, my voice steady, filled with a quiet fury. "I may be blind, but I'm more than capable of taking you down."

The figure laughs, a cold, hollow sound that echoes through the night. "We'll see about that," they sneer, before fading back into the shadows, leaving only the chill of their presence, a reminder that they could return at any moment.