Chapter 8 Sable
SABLE
My feet moved in a rhythm that was older than thought, weaving through the trees as though the forest had carved a path just for me. It was a moon was bright, and I was thankful for it. It would keep certain enemies away while we wolves would have an advantage.
I let my eyes adjust. Astrid and I had made our plans, prepared what little we had to bring with us, and set out in the middle of the night. The cool air slid across my skin, alive with the scent of pine, damp earth, and the indescribable pull of the distant Orion border.
“I don’t get it,” Astrid said, her voice cutting through the quiet night like the snap of a twig. “You insist for ages we can’t go to Orion lands, and then you flip a switch and we’re taking off with a single bag on our backs?”
I didn’t answer right away.
“I adjusted my priorities,” I muttered, stepping over a moss-covered root.
Mariyah had been the push to leave, but even she couldn’t have known I felt I was going to die if I stayed away from Orion any longer.
The bond was growing in me like a cancer, and I had to snuff it out before it took me whole.
As we got closer to the border, the burning started to subside. I knew what that meant, and I didn’t like it. Just being closer to him relieved the burning in my veins.
Ugh.
Astrid snorted behind me. “That’s a fancy way of saying you caved.”
I didn’t bother replying. Let her think what she wants. It’s better than telling her I’m being hunted and to protect us I have to address a bond with a soulless wolf.
The forest stretched wide and wild, shadows pooling thick under the towering pines.
The moonlight barely pierced the canopy, but to me, everything was hyperfocused.
I could see the subtle flicker of movement far ahead, a bird taking flight from its perch.
Further still, the faint indentation of a game trail winding its way toward the Orion border.
“There,” I said, pointing toward the trail.
Astrid squinted. “What? I don’t see—”
“It’s there,” I said firmly, stepping off the path.
Astrid jogged to keep up, her boots crunching over dry leaves. “How do you do that? My wolf didn’t catch it.”
I shrugged. “Practice.”
She huffed, clearly unsatisfied with the answer. “Right, practice. Sure.”
“Shh,” I hissed.
My steps were soundless, even on the brittle undergrowth. Astrid, meanwhile, stomped and shuffled, her every movement a clumsy announcement.
“Do you float when I’m not looking?” she muttered, trying to match my pace. “No one moves like that.”
“You’re just loud.”
Ahead, a faint ripple of energy brushed against my senses. My body tensed, my awareness sharpening. Something was there—several somethings. They weren’t close enough to be a threat yet, but they were moving. And they weren’t prey.
“Stop,” I said quietly, holding up a hand.
Astrid froze. “What is it?”
“Five of them,” I murmured, tilting my head toward the north. “A mile out. Maybe closer than that.”
Her eyes widened. “You felt that? How do you—”
“Quiet,” I snapped, cutting her off and leaving no room for argument.
I stopped and turned to face her. “Astrid, I need you to stop asking questions and start listening. You’re loud, you’re distracted, and that makes us vulnerable.
If you want to get through Orion territory unnoticed, you need to learn how to move. ”
Her mouth opened as if to argue, but she sighed and nodded, her shoulders drooping slightly.
The forest closed in around us again. I kept my senses open, scanning for the dangers that lay ahead—not just for myself, but for her.
Because no matter how much Astrid could annoy me, she was still mine to protect.
The cold hit me like a creeping shadow, wrapping around my limbs and settling deep in my core. A familiar and unnerving cost of using that other part of myself, the part I never spoke of, not even to Astrid. The part of me I feared was the reason why I was being hunted now.
I paused mid-step, closing my eyes. My wolf stirred, restless beneath the surface, eager to take over. I reached for her, pulling her warmth forward, commanding it to fill me.
Warm me, I whispered from within.
She growled in response, a low, eager sound that rippled through my chest. Heat rolled over me, spreading outward like fire chasing away the frost. My fingers flexed, and for a moment, the cold receded entirely, replaced by the steady burn of my wolf’s energy.
I opened my eyes, finding Astrid watching me. Her brows knitted together, I could smell her curiosity from ten feet away.
“We shift now,” I said, brushing past her unspoken question.
Astrid blinked, hesitating. “Here? We’re not that close to the border.”
“The sun is rising. We shift. Now.”
I didn’t tell her the real reason: I needed to feel Rhys, to know where he was, to sense him in the air and the earth beneath my paws. Whether I wanted to go to him or avoid him entirely, I didn’t know. But I needed to know if he was there.
I undressed and dropped to my knees, the shift tearing through me in release.
Bones snapped and reshaped, fur rippling over my skin, and when I stood on all fours, the world exploded into sharp clarity.
I slung my bag around my neck as the forest sang with life, every sound and scent amplified to perfection.
Astrid undressed and followed with a slower shift, her wolf smaller but nimble. She glanced at me, her head tilting in the way it always did when she had a question she didn’t know how to ask.
I didn’t wait. I leapt forward, the freedom of my wolf filling every part of me. The wind rushed past, carrying a familiar scent that sent my wolf surging.
Rhys.
He was close. And we were getting closer.
Astrid followed, her paws thudding behind me. I didn’t slow. The pull was too strong, and my wolf wasn’t about to resist.
The boundary was invisible, but the moment we crossed into Orion land, it was like stepping into a different world.
The air was heavier, charged with an energy that prickled at my fur and sank into my skin.
The scents were deeper, more layered—earth and pine and the unmistakable musk of wolves. One scent stood out.
Rhys.
If Mariyah’s words were the push to leave our home, Rhys’s scent was a leash, yanking at every fiber of my being. I slowed, my paws crunching softly against the forest floor. My wolf’s focus narrowed to the trail that led to him.
Astrid bumped against me, her smaller wolf nudging my side.
Her warm fur was grounding, but when she looked up at me with those curious eyes, I couldn’t meet them.
My wolf was slipping, her instincts louder than reason, and I didn’t want Astrid to see me like this—torn between desire and control, between chasing him and fighting the bond.
I caught the whisper of movement far ahead. My wolf ignored it, too consumed by the intoxicating trail in front of us. My paws moved of their own accord even as I felt consumed, surrounded by him. The further we went, the more I felt him—in my pulse, in the marrow of my bones.
Then the sound came.
At first, I thought it was my heartbeat, pounding hard against my ribs. The thud was deep, resonant, like the slow beat of a war drum. But it wasn’t right. It wasn’t mine.
My ears swiveled, and the sound grew louder, vibrating through the surrounding air. Astrid stopped beside me. She let out a questioning whine, but if she couldn’t hear it, then I couldn’t explain it.
The thudding was outside, circling us, closing in, and yet emanating from within me.
I growled out a message to Astrid, and she stepped back. The thudding grew faster, heavier, shaking the ground beneath us. My wolf snapped to attention, her instincts roaring to life.
In the space of a single breath, the world exploded.
A shadow hurtled out of the darkness, slamming into me with the force of a falling tree. Teeth grazed my neck as I hit the ground, my back scraping against the rough forest floor. Pain sparked up my side, but I had no time to react.
Astrid cowered. I twisted my head toward her, snarling through the bond.
Run!
The command tore through her, and she hesitated only a split second before turning tail and vanishing into the shadows.
I writhed, my wolf snarling and snapping. My attacker was unremitting, their weight pinning me like a boulder. My senses scrambled for answers, for a scent, for anything, but all I could feel was the thundering in my ears and the taste of dirt in my mouth.
Rhys.
I felt his shift before my own happened, as if my body had no choice but to follow his.
The change flowed, his and mine, as if in rhythm with each other.Sharp branches clawed at my skin, scoring lines from my neck to my legs, but the pain was irrelevant.
The only thing that mattered was I’d found him.
I was now a woman pinned by a man and entirely consumed by the sensation of his naked body against my own.
He was above me, his elbows braced on either side of my head, caging me in.
His breath fanned over my face, hot and uneven, carrying the wild musk of his wolf.
His body was pressed so tightly against mine that every inch of me felt him.
The muscles of his chest rippled down to abs that pushed into my stomach.
Heat radiated from his skin, a furnace against my skin, and my wolf was in heaven.
She could forget that his heart was black and offer herself to him in that second, wanting nothing more than to feel him move between my legs and press his cock inside of me.
The fire in my core tried to rip through my resolve, and it was almost impossible to breathe.
The golden glow of his wolf still lingered in his eyes, a fierce and unrelenting light that burned away any ideas of escape.
The sensation of him was everywhere—his chest against mine, the curve of his thigh against my hip, the faint scrape of stubble against my jaw as brought his face even closer.
My breasts pressed into his chest as both of us huffed, and his dick stiffened against my thigh.
My wolf howled inside me, wild and uncontrollable and elated.
I tried to focus, to catch a thought and hold on to it. Everything dissolved under the onslaught of sensation. The world narrowed to him.
I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t do anything but feel.
His gaze dropped to my lips, and my chest tightened, my wolf clawing at the edges of my control. I was sure I was going to explode, shatter into a thousand pieces. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Because in that moment, beneath him, with the heavens above and the earth below, something in me made sense.