Chapter 217

Iris

The snow crunches beneath my horse’s hooves as we make our way through the forest. The temperature has dropped significantly since this morning, and I’m grateful for the thick wool coat and Augustine’s mittens that I grabbed before heading out. Even with them, my cheeks and nose are stinging from the cold.

With far more confidence than the last time we visited the ranch, I guide my horse along the familiar trail toward the ridge where I first saw the she-wolf months ago.

It feels like a lifetime has passed since that day. So much has changed since then, and yet the forest looks exactly the same. I hope the wolf is the same, too.

I don’t know what I expect to find out here, though. The chances of actually seeing the same wolf again are slim to none. Wolves are notoriously elusive, and this one could be anywhere within hundreds of miles by now.

But I can’t shake the feeling that I need to check, if only so I can tell Miles that I tried.

When we reach the ridge, I rein my horse in and scan the area. The landscape is completely covered now by the snow, turning the usually brown and green terrain into a bright white expanse. Across the gulley, the rock ridge is still and quiet.

No sign of the wolf.

I’m not sure whether I should feel relieved or disappointed. On one hand, no wolf means Miles’ dream might just be that—a dream and not a vision. On the other hand, I’ve come all this way for nothing.

But as I’m about to turn my horse around and head back to the cabin, something catches my eye. A disturbance in the snow near the treeline, like something has passed through recently.

Curious, I nudge my horse forward, approaching the spot carefully. As we get closer, I can see more clearly—it’s a set of tracks. Large paw prints leading into the forest.

Wolf tracks.

My heart rate picks up. Could it be her?

There’s only one way to find out.

Gently squeezing my horse’s sides with my heels, I follow the tracks into the trees. The forest is dense here, the pine branches heavy with snow. Occasionally, a clump of it will fall from a branch with a soft thump, making me startle.

The tracks wind through the trees, sometimes disappearing where the snow hasn’t penetrated the thick canopy, then reappearing again. I’m no tracker, but even I can tell they’re fresh. Whatever made these hasn’t passed through here long ago.

We continue for about twenty minutes, the forest growing denser and the light dimmer as the trees crowd closer together. I’m just starting to think I should turn back to the house when I see it.

A splash of red against the white snow.

My stomach drops. Blood.

The trail of blood is sporadic at first, just a drop here and there, but as I continue to follow it, the droplets become bigger. Whatever is bleeding is losing a lot of blood.

I urge my horse forward into a trot. The blood trail leads to a small clearing, and there, in the center, a dark shape lies in the snow.

The wolf.

She’s massive, much larger than I remembered, her coat a mix of gray and white that would blend perfectly with the landscape if not for the blood staining the snow beneath her. Her eyes are closed, but she’s twitching and growling slightly.

And standing over her… is a man with a rifle in his hands.

“What have you done?” I demand, not even considering the danger of approaching a strange man with a gun in the forest. Before I know it, I’m off my horse and storming through the snow toward him.

The hunter jumps and spins around to face me, his rifle instinctively lifting before he realizes I’m just a woman. “Goddess above, lady! You scared the shit out of me! You shouldn’t sneak up on people with firearms.”

“Why did you shoot her?” I ask, ignoring his warnings. My upper lip curls, and for a moment, I feel as if I might have fangs.

Maybe I do, because the hunter backs up a step, his expression turning almost sheepish beneath his orange cap. “I… I didn’t realize it was a wolf,” he stammers. “I thought it was a deer. It was moving through the trees, and I just… I took the shot.”

“A deer?” I repeat incredulously. “How could you mistake a wolf for a deer?”

He looks down at the wolf, then back at me. “I don’t know. It was far away, and the light was bad, and… I’m sorry. I fucked up, okay? I know wild wolves are protected around here.”

I want to give him an earful, but the wolf whines softly and draws my attention away from the hunter.

Without thinking, I kneel beside her in the snow. She’s breathing rapidly now, white puffs of condensation coming out of her flaring nostrils in the cold air. The bullet wound is in her flank. It doesn’t take a medical degree to know that she’s not going to make it.

“What are you doing?” the hunter hisses, backing away. “That’s a wild animal! It’ll bite your hand off!”

I ignore him. The wolf’s eyes are open now, watching me warily. Up close, I realize they’re a strange amber color, almost gold, not unlike my own. There’s intelligence in those eyes, as if she recognizes me.

“It’s okay,” I murmur, removing my mitten and slowly extending my hand toward her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The hunter makes a noise of alarm, but I tune him out. She won’t hurt me. I know she won’t.

My hand hovers just above the wolf’s head, giving her the chance to snap at me if she wants to. But she doesn’t. Instead, she shifts slightly, tilting her head to press against my palm.

A jolt of… something… runs through me at the contact. For a brief, disorienting moment, it feels like I’m touching a part of myself, as if by touching her soft, velvety fur, I’m reaching into my own soul.

The wolf’s breathing is becoming more labored, and her eyes start to glaze over. I know she’s dying, and there’s nothing I can do to save her. The nearest vet is hours away, and even if we could get her there in time, the trauma of being moved would likely kill her.

All I can do is stay with her.

I stroke her fur gently as her life ebbs away. The hunter shifts uncomfortably behind me, clearly unsure what to do, but doesn’t interrupt the moment. And for what feels like hours but is probably only minutes, there’s no sound but the wolf’s increasingly shallow breathing and the occasional rustle of wind through the pines.

Then, she makes a strange, almost human sound—like a sigh—and goes still. The light fades from her eyes, and I know she’s finally gone.

An unexpected sob catches in my throat. I know she’s just a wild animal, that this sort of thing happens all the time, and that despite what I may think, I never really knew her… But somehow, it feels as if I’ve just lost a friend.

Just then, a twig snaps somewhere behind me, and the hunter and I both turn to see Arthur emerging from the trees, leading his own horse. His expression goes from confusion to fury as he sees the man with the gun beside me.

In an instant, Arthur is off his horse. His eyes blaze with the kind of protective anger that only a male wolf with a pregnant mate can feel, and I have to shout, “Stop!” to both him and the hunter, who is raising his gun, before something bad can happen.

Both men freeze. “Lower your weapon,” I growl to the hunter, who obeys. His eyes flicker with recognition as our identities finally hit him; even out here, in the territories unbound to Ordan, the Alpha President and Luna are easily recognizable. The man curses under his breath, realizing what he’s done.

“Iris?” Arthur glances at me. “Are you okay? You’ve been gone for hours.”

Has it been that long? I’ve lost track of time out here.

“I’m fine,” I assure him, although I don’t feel fine. I feel… changed, somehow.

Arthur’s gaze then shifts to the hunter, who shrinks slightly under his scrutiny. “It was an accident,” the hunter repeats. “I thought it was a deer.”

Arthur doesn’t look convinced, but his concern is clearly for me, not the wolf or the hunter. “Iris, you’re freezing. We should get you back to the cabin.”

He’s right. I’ve been kneeling in the snow for who knows how long, and my legs have gone numb. But I can’t bring myself to leave the wolf just yet.

“I can’t just leave her here,” I mutter.

“She belongs here,” Arthur promises, taking my bare, frigid hand. “She’s a wild animal, Iris.”

The thought comforts me in a strange sort of way. I nod, finally releasing the wolf’s fur and allowing Arthur to help me to my feet.

As I stand, a wave of dizziness washes over me. For a moment, the world tilts and spins, and I have to grab Arthur’s arms to steady myself.

“Iris?” he sounds worried again. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” I murmur. “I feel strange. Like…”

I can’t finish the thought because I don’t know how to describe what I’m feeling. It’s like something is flowing through me, filling me up from the inside out. Warmth.

Arthur cups my face, peering at me with concern. Behind him, the hunter gasps.

“What?” I ask, looking between them. “What is it?”

“Your eyes,” Arthur whispers. “They’re… gold.”