The Chosen One •

9

✨ Isabel ✨

The lake stretched out before me, dark and still, its surface reflecting the muted gray of the sky. I sat on the rocky shore, my arms wrapped around my knees, and stared into the water as though it held the answers I desperately needed. It didn't, of course. The only thing staring back at me was my own reflection, fractured by the occasional ripple.

Kun's words lingered in my mind, heavy and unsettling.

"Rogues in the north. They're different—stronger. I don't know how long I'll be gone."

Rogues. Even with the limited knowledge I had about wolves, the stories I'd heard were enough to make my stomach twist. Rogues were wolves without a pack, either cast out or choosing to leave. Without a pack bond, they lost themselves, their instincts taking over until they became nothing more than wild, bloodthirsty creatures.

The witches I grew up with always spoke of rogues as a threat. Not to us—we were shielded from wolves by ancient spells and wards—but to the humans who were often caught in their crossfire. Rogues were unpredictable, feral, and ruthless.

But Kun had said these rogues were different. Stronger.

What could that even mean?

I traced the rough edges of the rock beneath my fingers, my chest tightening. I wasn't naïve. I understood that whatever these rogues were, they were dangerous enough for Kun and other strong wolves to be sent after them. Dangerous enough that there was no guarantee he'd come back.

The thought shouldn't bother me. Not like this.

But it did.

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair.

And then there were his other words. The ones he'd thrown at me earlier.

"At least you're not a witch."

The memory made my throat tighten. It was a casual comment, something he probably hadn't even thought twice about. But for me, it was a reminder of everything I was hiding.

I wasn't human. At least, not entirely.

I didn't know much about my parents. My mother had died when I was too young to really remember her, and my father...well, he was a mystery. I always assumed he was a witch, like my mother. It made sense. I grew up surrounded by witches, raised by a witch couple who told me as much as they could about me but the only thing they were certain about is that witches blood runs through my veins.

And yet, there were gaps. Questions I'd never been brave enough to ask, as if I already knew the answers would only make my life more complicated.

I hugged my knees tighter.

The truth was, I didn't know why I felt this way—why I felt different here, in Tara's home, around Kun. The mate bond, they called it. Something uniquely wolf, something that wasn't supposed to exist between someone like me and someone like him.

But it did.

I felt it every time he looked at me, every time we were in the same room. It was like a thread tied between us, invisible but unbreakable. I didn't understand it, but it was there, pulling at me, making me feel things I didn't want to feel.

Like fear.

Not just for myself, but for him.

I clenched my fists, trying to shake the thought away. Kun was strong. Everyone said so. He was next in line to lead his pack, one of the most powerful wolves of his generation. If anyone could handle a rogue threat, it was him.