Chapter 12 He Knew My Name #2
The wolf stops. His head tilts, ears swiveling forward. He studies me as one predator might study another—with respect, with caution, with curiosity.
He takes another step forward.
I aim for center mass, finger tightening on the trigger—then hesitate. Something in those eyes...
"You knew my name," I say, lowering my weapon slightly. "The man you were—before you changed—he knew who I was. How?"
The wolf huffs, a sound almost like acknowledgment. He steps closer, close enough now that I can smell wet fur and wild earth. Close enough to count the silver flecks in his midnight coat. Close enough to see the rise and fall of his massive chest with each breath that clouds the cool cave air.
Pain shoots through my leg as I try to shift position. A cry tears from my throat. The wolf's ears prick forward. His massive head lowers, inspecting my injury with unexpected gentleness.
"Don't—" I warn, but instead of attacking, he sniffs carefully at the broken bone. A low whine escapes his throat—a sound of concern, of sympathy.
A laugh bubbles up from my chest, edged with hysteria.
"All these years hunting your kind, and now I'm going to die because I carelessly fell in a hole.
Ironic, isn't it?" The pain makes me reckless, words spilling out that I'd never speak to another living soul.
"I'm just like you, you know. Magick. Different.
The very thing GUIDE hunts. They would execute me if they knew what I was. "
The wolf's head snaps up, golden eyes boring into mine with sudden, fierce intensity.
"Sixteen years I've been hiding what I am," I continue, confession both terrifying and liberating. "Lying to everyone. Hunting creatures and people like me—like us—to protect people who would burn me at the stake if they knew the truth."
Another wave of pain washes over me, breaking against my consciousness like waves against stone.
I clench my teeth to keep from screaming again.
"My father was killed by a chimera. I just found that out last week.
Double fangs on those beasts. My mother hid what I was from everyone, trained me to control it. And now here we are."
I stare at the massive wolf, gun still raised but wavering in my weakening grip. "What are you waiting for? Finish me off. That's what you want, isn't it?"
The wolf moves closer, his massive form eclipsing what little light filters from above. His breath warms my face, hot and alive. This is it. The end.
I press my back harder against the rocks, heart hammering so loud I'm certain he can hear it. The wolf's ears flick forward, his attention completely focused on me. Not with hunger or aggression, but with... concern? Impossible.
Before I can process this, he carefully maneuvers his massive body, positioning his head beneath mine. I have no time to react before he's lifting me, jaws gentle as they grasp the edges of the tactical vest. A whimper escapes before I can stop it—partly from fear, partly from surprise.
Pain blinds me as my broken leg dangles uselessly, but he moves with purpose, climbing the fallen debris toward the surface.
Each step is measured, deliberate, as if he's trying not to jostle me further.
The gentleness in this predator's actions makes no sense, and I find myself more terrified of the unknown intention than I was of death itself.
He’s rescuing me. Why would a beast that should want me dead now seem determined to save me?
The wolf continues his careful ascent, easily bearing my weight. When we reach the surface, he carries me further, away from the treacherous ground of the sinkhole, and gently places me on a bed of moss near the forest's edge.
From here, I can see lights in the distance—Echo team searching. Close enough that they might find me soon, but far enough that the wolf has time to disappear.
He stands over me for a long moment, those intense eyes studying my face as if committing it to memory. I should feel afraid. I should raise my gun and fire at this point-blank range. I don't. Can't.
Something passes between us—understanding, recognition, connection.
Then, with visible reluctance, he turns and vanishes into darkness, taking with him answers I desperately need.
I lie there, rain washing over my face, mind struggling to make sense of what just happened. The wolf—the monster I was hunting—saved my life. Left me where humans could find me. Why?
And how did the man know my name?
My leg throbs with each heartbeat. With gritted teeth and bile rising in my throat, I grasp my broken leg and snap the bone back into alignment.
A scream tears from my lungs, echoing through trees.
I collapse backward, blackness threatening at the edges of my vision. Focus on breathing. In. Out. In. Out.
Every sound in the forest suddenly seems amplified.
I freeze, listening for footsteps, for voices, for any sign of an Enclave member.
Or worse, someone from my own team. The last thing I need is to explain how a shattered femur is miraculously healing itself.
If they discovered what I really am… that would be my true end. And my mother’s.
My body will heal now that the bone is properly set, but I need to move. I scan the perimeter, watching for the telltale glow of tactical flashlights. If Marcus or Chen found me like this... if any GUIDE operative saw me healing at this rate... public execution would be the best-case scenario.
Hours later, I'm able to stand, though each step sends bolts of pain shooting up my leg. I ignore the still-distant lights of Echo team, heading back toward my mother's house through the forest. I don't want to help them find the wolf's trail.
The house is quiet when I return, though police lights still flash at the perimeter. GUIDE has established a containment zone. Standard protocol is spinning a web of lies about domestic terrorists to explain a firefight in a suburban backyard.
I slip past them using back trails, entering through Mom's basement door. The climb up the stairs is agonizing, but I manage through sheer stubborn will.
She's waiting in the kitchen, face pale, hands twisted into a knot of worry.
"Astrid!" She rushes forward, then stops abruptly at the sight of my bloodied clothes and unsteady stance. "What happened? They wouldn't tell me anything. Just ordered me to stay inside while men with guns searched my garden."
I sink into a chair, exhaustion washing over me in waves. "The shapeshifter," I begin, then pause, searching for words to explain the unexplainable. "I saw him transform from human to wolf right in our backyard. And I think he knew me. The man he was before the shift. He said my name."
Mom's hands freeze midway through making tea. "A shifter? Not just a wolf? And he knew you?" The cup clatters slightly as she sets it down. "How is that possible?"
"I don't know." I stare into my cup, watching steam curl upward like question marks. "But I'm going to find out."
A sharp knock at the door interrupts us. Mom tenses, teacup rattling against saucer. I recognize the pattern—three quick raps, a pause, then two more. GUIDE protocol.
"I’m sure it’s Weyland," I murmur, squeezing her hand. "Stay here."
I open the door just enough to slip outside onto the dark porch, keeping my injured leg in shadow. Weyland looks haggard, clothes and gear muddied from hours searching, eyes rimmed with exhaustion.
"Mathieson." Relief flashes across his face. "Where the hell have you been? We've had teams combing the forest for hours."
"Lost the trail in the rain," I lie smoothly, the words falling into place like well-practiced steps. "Tried circling back, but the downpour washed everything away. The wolf is gone."
His eyes narrow, suspicion flickering in their depths. "You've been out there for hours.”
"I know these woods better than anyone." I shift my weight to my good leg, careful not to wince. "Any sign of the others? Of Enclave?"
"Two in custody, three escaped." Weyland runs a hand through rain-flattened hair. "Hayes is livid. You went after the primary target without backup, without comms, without proper gear."
"I took your vest and it was my call to make. I’m the senior agent." I cross my arms, spine straight despite the grinding pain in my femur. "I know what I'm capable of. I was in control."
"Were you?" He studies my face, searching for cracks in my armor. "Because you went after a creature that tore a grizzly bear apart like it was made of tissue paper. Like it was nothing."
I shrug, keeping my expression neutral while my mind replays the image of those golden eyes studying me with unmistakable intelligence.
Weyland doesn't seem entirely convinced, but exhaustion wins over suspicion. "Hayes wants a full report when you get back to HQ in the morning. Team's pulling out in about an hour."
"I'll be there," I promise. "After I get my mother somewhere safe."
He nods, turning to leave, then pauses. "Mathieson... what do you think it wants? This wolf? What is it doing here?"
The memory of gentle jaws carrying me to safety flickers behind my eyes. The man who knew my name. The connection that hummed between us like a plucked string.
"I don't know," I lie. "But we'll find it and take care of it."
After Weyland leaves, I return to the kitchen where Mom waits, her expression grim as a headstone. "You should've told them it knew you," she says softly.
"And then what? Watch them hunt me next?" I shake my head. "No. This stays between us."
At dawn I drive her to the bus station, my leg now healed enough that I walk with only a slight limp. The bone still throbs with each heartbeat, a reminder of vulnerability, of rescue, of unanswered questions.
"Promise me you'll be careful," Mom says as we wait for her bus. Morning light paints her silver hair with gold, highlighting the worry lines that deepen with each passing year. "Whatever this is—whoever he is—it's not random. They came looking for you specifically."
"I know." I hug her tightly, memorizing the feel of her arms around me, the scent of chamomile and lavender that follows her everywhere. "That's why I need answers. And why you need to be far away and safe while I find them."
As her bus pulls away, I check my phone. Six missed calls from Hayes. Two from Ghost. A text from Sherlock simply reading: "Where are you?"
Time to face the music. But as I walk back to my car, I can't shake the memory of those golden eyes, the careful gentleness of that massive wolf carrying me to safety.
He could have killed me. Should have killed me. Instead, he saved me.
And he knew my name.