Claws (Rewritten)

Twenty Three

^ Noah Denver (played by Leo Chocolat)

Noah

I couldn't believe my eyes, or, more accurately, my nose, when I headed out one morning to hunt. It was just another average day - check the pack lines, give my wolf chance to work out some energy, maybe even take down a deer or two while I was at it. Y'know, just your average, normal day as a werewolf.

My wolf was trotting through the forest, heading up towards our usual cliff side to scout the pack from above, when the wind suddenly picked up. Leaves rustled in the trees, the scents of hundreds of potential prey tantalising my senses as the cool air ran through my fur.

And then it hit me.

A scent like no other. It made everything else fade into the background, no longer of any importance or significance to me.

Holy fuck.

At once my wolf shot off, following the irresistible trail as fast as he could, with one word running through my mind, coursing through my very blood.

Mate.

I'd heard stories from the other pack members about the moment they found their mate, and I'd grown up imagining different scenarios for that destined meeting. Would we see each other from opposite ends of a crowded square? Maybe just a brush of the shoulder as we passed each other on the street? I'd never once imagined my mate to be here, in rural Alaska.

And the world was a big place - they could've easily been halfway across the globe this whole time.

But no. After years of wonder and longing to travel in search of them, my mate was here. In Alaska. In the forest. On the very edge of my pack's lines. Taunting me, they were so close after decades of waiting.

My wolf ran blindly through the forest, narrowly missing trees and low-hanging branches only due to my input. He was so focused on following the scent that neither of us realised where it was leading us until we arrived.

Disappointment crashed over me when we found the cliff edge empty. Damn it. No, no, no.

The scent was concentrated here, mere hours old at most. They must've been right here. Where had they gone? Did...did they know about the bond, too?

Had they ran?

Just the thought had my wolf whining as a jolt of pure anguish tore through me. Oh, God, I hoped not.

There was evidence of a campfire, but it had been put out professionally, and only a slight smokey hue on the air clued me in. Odd. We never usually had campers so far from the trails.

Though it was difficult to concentrate with my wolf darting around the place, nose to the ground in an attempt to find out where our mate had gone, I could make out the slightest traces of other scents. Human...witch...and, I realised with a jolt of horror, the icy scent of a vampire.

My wolf growled lowly, his hackles raising. I urged him to calm down. There was no hint or trace of blood. That was a good sign.

Noah, you're unusually quiet up there, My alpha, Mason's voice broke through the haze, briefly clearing my mind. What, no report?

I need to speak with you, was all I said in response, pulling my wolf away from the cliff with some difficulty and sprinting back towards the pack house. The report could wait. Or perhaps one of the gammas could do it, instead.

My wolf grumbled about turning our back on the trail, wanting to follow the scent, and I assured him we would. We just had to speak to the alpha first. It would take minutes at most, and now that I'd caught my mate's scent, nothing on earth would stop me from finding them. I'd search for the rest of time if I had to.