Greykin Valley

| 9 | But Then I Found You

⥐ ⋞ ☽ ⋟ ⥐

| Damon |

In the murk of the early morning, Damon closed in on his target. After a week without a good meal, he could finally bring something larger than a couple of rabbits and squirrels back to his pack.

There it was...a male pronghorn chewing the grass with its head buried in the snow. It had no idea he was about to pounce, and although it wasn't an elk or moose, it would still feed his wolves enough to give them the strength to carry on for a few more days.

He prowled closer...and closer, keeping his eyes on where he would sink his teeth.

But then he felt it.

Something he thought he'd never experience.

His focus was immediately stolen; his senses went haywire, urging him to turn around and follow the source of this strange, enticing feeling. An entwining flurry of desire, longing, and desperation twisted around inside his body, striking him so hard that he forgot everything he was doing momentarily. He needed to follow—he wanted to—but a part of him thought this might not be real.

Why would it be real? Aysel claimed him. He was hers. And he'd promised Alaric he'd look after her.

But...the feeling wasn't getting any weaker. It was only getting stronger, like someone had thrown a rope around his body and was now tugging on it, and the more intense the urge became, the less resistance Damon found himself putting up.

He had to go.

Damon abandoned the pronghorn and sped off through the forest. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, swerving past boulders and trees. The feeling reeling him in was soon accompanied by an enthralling scent; it was like coffee and roses with the slightest hint of citrus, and when Damon burst out of the forest and followed a vast white field, the scent became so overwhelming that Damon stifled a few breaths.

He knew he was close but didn't want to throw himself at whoever he was being led to. Before revealing himself, he wanted to see who he was about to come face to face with. He didn't want to risk starting a fight if they were from another pack. This was his territory, but he was alone, and if a pack were invading, he'd need backup.

So instead of continuing his mad sprint across the opening, he turned left and hurried up a hill. He crouched down, using his white fur to keep himself shrouded in the snow, and then he scanned the area below with his eyes.

There. He spotted a naked man stumbling through the white. The guy looked dazed and confused, there were streaks and splotches of blood all over him, and he seemed to have no idea where he was, where he was going, or what he was doing.

Damon knew at first glance that this man had just gone through his first shift, and the fact that there were no signs of other wolf walkers around made it evident that he was bitten, not born. No Ascelan human would willingly wander out to the mountains at night, either, so this guy was either a total moron...or not from Ascela. But that was all Damon could tell from where he was. He wasn't ready to reveal himself; he needed more information. He had to be sure that a pack wasn't looking for that man.

The Alpha crept through the snow, trailing him to a river. That was where the guy collapsed and passed out.

Damon waited. He kept his eyes on the unconscious man while the sun rose over the mountains. Was that really supposed to be his mate? A bitten, lost outsider. A rogue. Someone who would have no idea what it was to be a wolf walker. Essentially a clueless, helpless child.