Page 39 of Fated Wolf's Destiny

“Then why do I feel like you’re always keeping your distance? I can feel you watching the clinic at night…”

“To keep you safe.”

“Don’t you have people who can do that?”

“Not any I trust with your safety. In any event,” he says, his voice clipped. “This isn’t about me. It’s about keeping you safe.”

His breath hitches, and the air between us feels electric, charged with something neither of us can ignore. The moonlight casts shadows across his face, highlighting the stiffness in his jaw, the fire in his eyes. My heart pounds, and I realize I’m not just angry—I’m drawn to him in a way that terrifies me.

“Safe from what?” I demand, my frustration surging again. “The mutants? Or is it you and your pack I need to be kept safe from?”

His eyes flash, and for a second, I think I’ve crossed a line. But instead of lashing out, he takes another step back, the distance between us tangible. Before he can reply, a faint rustlein the trees catches his attention, and his head snaps toward the sound. His posture shifts, his focus narrowing as he scans the shadows.

“We’re not alone,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

I follow his gaze, my pulse quickening as I peer into the darkness. The forest feels alive now, the quiet replaced by something heavier, more dangerous.

Ryder steps in front of me, his body tense and ready. “Stay behind me,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The forest is still, the kind of silence that makes your ears strain for the smallest sound. The shadows around the old logging camp feel alive, like they’re watching, waiting. I press my back against a rotting wooden beam, clutching the flashlight in my hand even though it’s off. The weight of the night presses on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

Ryder is a few feet in front of me, his posture tense, every line of his body taut like a predator ready to strike. His head tilts slightly, his eyes scanning the darkness. His hand raises, a silent command to stay put.

“Quiet,” he growls, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down my spine.

Before I can respond, the shadows explode into motion. A blur of fur and teeth barrels out of the darkness, and a snarl rips through the air, primal and feral. It happens so fast I barely have time to register what’s happening before something—a mutant?—lunges at us.

“Ryder!” I try to scream, but no sound comes out. I stumble back as he shoves me to the side and steps into the attack, his movements impossibly fast.

I can’t move. I’m frozen, caught between the terror of what’s happening and the sheer awe of watching Ryder fight.He’s a force of nature, both beautiful and horrifying, his every movement precise and lethal.

The mutant is massive, its yellow eyes glowing with a feral light, saliva dripping from its bared fangs. Ryder meets it head-on, grabbing the wolf by the scruff of the neck mid-lunge and throwing it to the ground with a force that shakes the earth beneath me. The sound of snapping jaws and snarling fills the air, and I freeze, unable to tear my eyes away.

A swirling mist that seems to be made of lightning, thunder and jagged shards of color surrounds Ryder. As the mist dissipates, rolling back down to the ground, an enormous black wolf stands where Ryder once stood. I’ve seen the wolf before. The transformation is seamless, fluid, and terrifying in its speed and complexity.

Ryder stands there, a shadow carved out of the night, his black fur sleek and shining like polished obsidian. His amber eyes are locked on the grey wolf across from him, a hulking beast with a coat like cold ash and a pronounced hump where its shoulders meet. The mutant’s lips curl back, baring teeth that glint in the pale light, promising violence.

I want to call out to Ryder, tell him to run, but I know he won’t. This fight isn’t one either of us can walk away from. I’m frozen in place as I watch the two wolves face off, their muscles coiled, their snarls low and guttural.

The mutant moves again, a blur of motion and brute force, but Ryder is faster. He dodges to the side, his body a fluid, seamless shadow, the mutant’s claws ripping through empty air. Before the mutant can recover, Ryder leaps, his jaws snapping toward its throat. My breath hitches, hope flaring for a split second.

But the mutant twists violently, throwing Ryder off. They crash to the ground in a whirlwind of fur and fangs, snarlsripping through the clearing. I flinch as Ryder hits the dirt hard, but he’s already back on his feet, growling, snarling and defiant.

The mutant circles him, its steps heavy, predatory. Ryder stays still, his head low, his body tense but ready. The mutant feints left, then darts right, aiming for Ryder’s hind leg. Ryder spins at the last second, slamming his shoulder into the mutant’s chest. The impact is so violent I can almost feel it in my bones. The mutant skids across the dirt, claws scraping for purchase, but Ryder doesn’t wait. He charges, sinking his teeth into the mutant’s neck.

I almost cry out in relief, but the moment doesn’t last. The mutant thrashes, claws raking down Ryder’s side, and I hear him groan. My heart shatters at the sound. Blood stains his dark fur, but he doesn’t let go. He digs his claws into the mutant’s shoulders, forcing it to the ground.

They break apart in a flurry of movement, both panting, the other wolf bleeding heavily. Ryder stands his ground. The mutant lunges again, its jaws snapping toward Ryder’s throat. I can’t stop myself from gasping. Ryder ducks low, just in time, and twists upward, his teeth closing around the gray’s vulnerable throat. For a heartbeat, everything stops.

The mutant’s eyes widen as it struggles, its massive body thrashing, but Ryder doesn’t let go. His growl rumbles deep and low, vibrating through the clearing. My chest feels tight, my breath frozen as I watch Ryder hold on, his eyes blazing.

Then, with one brutal twist, it’s over.

The mutant collapses, its body limp. The clearing falls silent, except for the sound of Ryder’s heavy breathing. He stands over his fallen opponent, blood dripping from his jaws, his chest heaving. His golden eyes catch the moonlight, fierce and unbroken.

For a moment, I can’t move. Relief and fear clash in my chest, leaving me frozen. Then Ryder’s gaze shifts, and he looks at me.

“Ryder…” I whisper, my voice barely audible. He doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch, just watches me. His fur is matted with blood, his side torn, but he’s still here. Still alive.

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