Page 3 of When Two Worlds Collide

A synchronized warning growl ripples through the forest—not one wolf but many. I hold my position, though every instinct urges me to shift and meet threat with threat.

“My name is Ember Steelclaw,” I announce formally. “I represent Haven’s Heart and the northern settlements. Your clan has claimed territory that belongs to established shifter communities. I’m here to negotiate fair boundaries.”

The growls intensify, closer now. Among them, I hear huffing sounds—wolf laughter, mocking my overture.

I feel heat rising under my skin, my panther responding to the challenge. “I will speak with your alpha,” I insist, my voice hardening. “Or I will consider your clan unwilling to resolve this matter peacefully.”

The forest falls suddenly, ominously silent. Then I hear it—heavier footfalls, deliberately placed by something massive moving through the trees behind me.

I turn slowly, maintaining my composure as a shadow detaches itself from the deepening twilight. The wolf that emerges makes me catch my breath despite my determination to show no fear.

He’s enormous—coal black with silver markings across his chest and muzzle. His shoulders stand higher than my waist, muscled power evident in every controlled movement. But it’s his eyes that truly unnerve me—silver-gray and utterly uncompromising, holding an intelligence that belies his animal form.

Zane Blackthorn. It can only be him.

The massive wolf circles me once, his scent enveloping me—pine, earth, and something primal that makes my panther stir with instinctive recognition of an apex predator. He stops before me, head tilted in what appears to be contemplation.

Then, in a fluid surge of movement, he shifts. The transformation is seamless, far faster than any shifter I’ve encountered. One moment, wolf, the next man—though “man” seems inadequate to describe him.

He towers over me, standing well over six feet, his body a map of corded muscle and old battle scars. His black hair falls past his shoulders, silver streaks matching the markings of his wolf. He makes no move to clothe himself, utterly comfortable in his naked human form, unembarrassed and unashamed.

“Ambassador,” he says, and his voice is deep, rough-edged, as though human speech is an afterthought to wolf howls. “You trespass on Shadow Wolf territory.”

“This land belonged to the settlements long before your clan emerged from the Wild Territories.”

“You’re wrong,” he says firmly. “This land belonged to the Shadow Wolves for a thousand years before your kind built your little wooden dens. We’ve merely returned to claim what was always ours.”

I sense movement around us—more wolves shifting to human form, surrounding us in a loose circle. Unlike their alpha, they pull on simple leather garments that must have been stashed nearby.

“The settlements have legal claim,” I counter. “Documentation dating back generations.”

Zane’s laugh is harsh. “Paper means nothing in the wild, Ambassador. Claw marks and blood—those are the only claims that matter.”

“Is that what you want? Blood?” I challenge, heat flaring along my arms. “Because if you threaten those settlements, you’ll have war with Haven’s Heart.”

“War?” He moves closer, intimidation in every line of his massive frame. “You civilized shifters have forgotten what real war looks like. Playing at politics with vampires and dragons has made you soft.”

My temper flares, fire flickering visibly across my skin. “Test me and find out how soft I am.”

Interest flashes across his face, the first real emotion I’ve seen there. “The little house cat has claws,” he mocks, but there’s something assessing in his expression now.

“Fire panther,” I correct him coldly. “And I didn’t come to trade insults. I came to establish boundaries that will prevent unnecessary conflict.”

“The boundaries are established.” He gestures to the forest around us. “Everything north of the settlements belongs to the Shadow Wolves now. The settlements themselves...” He shrugs massive shoulders. “We’ll decide their fate once we’ve settled in.”

“That’s unacceptable,” I state firmly.

“I think you mean ‘inevitable,’” he says. “The barriers are failing, Ambassador. The Wild Territories are collapsing. More clans will emerge, and most will be far less... diplomatic than mine.”

There’s something unnerving about his certainty, like he has knowledge I don’t possess. “The settlements are under my protection,” I insist. “I propose a formal negotiation. Representatives from both sides, on neutral ground.”

“There is no neutral ground,” Zane says flatly. “And I have no interest in your civilized talks.” He turns as if to leave.

“You’re afraid,” I call after him, a deliberate provocation.

He stops, and the air around us seems to chill despite the summer evening. Slowly, he turns back to me, his expression gleaming with dangerous intensity in the gathering darkness. “Explain yourself before I forget my momentary amusement with your boldness.”

I stand my ground. “You’re afraid to negotiate because you know your claim won’t hold up to scrutiny. It’s easier to threaten and intimidate than to prove your right to this land.”

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