Chapter 36: A Crime?!

Chapter 36: A Crime?! Kaya I take another cautious step as I round the packhouse, careful to move quietly, avoiding any unnecessary noise that might draw unwanted attention. The crisp night air soothes my nerves, unraveling the tight knots of anxiety in my chest. Out here, beneath the open sky, I can finally breathe again. Maybe it’s the pine trees. Their scent lingers in the cool air, fresh and grounding. It reminds me of Alpha Magnus—of the way he smells like pine, bark, and spice. I wonder if his skin has simply absorbed the scent of the forest... or if it’s the forest that has absorbed the scent of him. I shake off the ridiculous thought and press forward, keeping to the shadows as I quietly observe my surroundings. To my left, a group of men sit on the porch, engrossed in a game of poker. Glasses of amber liquor glint under the moonlight as they drink, groaning in frustration or bursting into laughter at their wins and losses. They seem at ease, absorbed in their own little world. To my right, a fire crackles, casting a warm glow over a small gathering. A man with a thick black beard and short, curly hair strums a guitar—badly. The tanned, chubby girl beside him playfully mocks his skill, adjusting her singing to match his off-key notes. The others around the fire chuckle, tossing good-natured jeers in the guitarist’s direction. The atmosphere is light, easy, filled with quiet joy. A pang of something sharp grips my chest. It looks nice. It looks... comforting. Back in Dark Wood, such leisurely activities were strictly forbidden. Not by Damien, but by Camilla, who despised the sight of wolves from different ranks mingling without purpose. Idleness irritated her; she was always urging others to be useful. To grow stronger. To become wealthier. But here... everything I’ve ever heard about Black Moon feels like a lie now. The wolves here are different—more relaxed, more at ease with one another. There’s no rigid hierarchy dictating who can speak to whom, no invisible chains binding them to unspoken rules. Everyone has a role. Everyone contributes. Everyone is family. Or at least... almost everyone. And deep down, I wish—more than I’d ever admit—that one day, I could belong among them too. I exhale a slow, steady breath, pushing the thought aside as I continue my quiet exploration of the pack’s territory. The cool night air brushes against my skin, grounding me, but a lingering unease still coils in my chest. That nightmare—that memory—is too fresh, too raw, making the idea of wandering too far from the house terrifying. I stay close, rounding the sheds where they store the gardening tools when suddenly— Rustle. A sharp noise cuts through the night, followed by a muffled curse and the unmistakable sound of something heavy crashing to the ground. I freeze. Crap. Instinct tells me to turn away, to retreat before I stumble into trouble. But the moment I pivot on my heel to slip back into the shadows, a strong hand clamps down on my shoulder. A breath catches in my throat. I nearly manage to suppress the urge to scream. "Goddess!" I gasp as the hand yanks me around, my pulse leaping in my throat. But instead of the rough grip of a man, I find myself staring at a woman. She’s tall and broad-shouldered, her frame radiating raw strength rather than elegance. Her muscular build is imposing, and if not for the softness of her facial features and the long braids draping over her shoulders, I might have mistaken her for a man. The dim lamplight catches the pale hue of her skin, making her striking blue eyes gleam with an almost unnatural shimmer. She has a broad forehead, thick eyebrows, a sharp nose, and full, pouty lips—an intriguing mix of harshness and beauty. Two wide ribbons are woven into her braids, their vibrant color standing out against the dark strands of her hair. My gaze lingers on them, my lips parting slightly, the words forming on my tongue before I even realize I want to ask about them. "Shh!" she hisses, pressing a finger to her lips. Her sharp eyes lock onto mine, her voice low and husky. "Where did you come from?" The question catches me off guard. There’s something about her tone—gravelly, almost androgynous—that makes me briefly question if I was wrong to assume she’s a woman at all. I hesitate before finally gesturing behind me. "From there," I say, pointing toward the shed. Her gaze flicks in that direction, and in an instant, her expression twists into one of pure irritation. "Ugh." She exhales sharply, shaking her head as if to rid herself of whatever foolishness I just uttered. "Are you alone? Was anyone following you?" Her growing urgency stirs something uneasy in my chest. "I—no," I stammer, shaking my head. "I don’t think so." "Good," she exhales in relief, though the tension in her shoulders doesn’t fully ease. She leans into me slightly, her grip still firm on my shoulder. Then, without warning, she straightens and tugs me forward. "Come on, you are coming with me." "What?" I exclaim, stumbling slightly as she switches her hold to my forearm, her fingers like iron as she marches ahead with unwavering determination. "Where—where are we going?" "Shh! Keep your voice down!" she hisses, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder. "Why?" I demand, trying to dig my heels into the ground. I twist my arm, attempting to shake off her grip, but she doesn’t even flinch. She is absurdly strong—too strong for me to fight off. The stranger doesn’t slow, nor does she acknowledge my futile resistance. Instead, she flashes a wide, mischievous grin, her blue eyes gleaming with something that makes my stomach twist. "I need a partner," she says, voice light and almost playful. "Someone to stand watch while I commit a crime." I freeze mid-step, my breath catching in my throat. No, I can’t believe what I just heard. "A crime?!"