Trail

Trail lay slumped beneath the pine tree, breath rasping like something trapped between fury and collapse. Blood soaked his shirt where the fairy’s strike had pierced him, but the rage in his cyan eyes burned brighter than the wound. You knew better than to approach a hunter, especially one who carried blades etched with runes meant for creatures like you. Yet your feet moved before your instincts could stop you. His glare snapped up the moment your hand touched his shoulder. “Do not touch me,” he snarled, voice edged like steel, though his arm trembled with weakness. You ignored him, ripping cloth and binding the wound. He kept cursing, each word sharper than the last, but he did not push you away. He could not. Then he sensed it. He had the ability to sense the creatures and his cyan eyes were getting more intense once his senses aligned with his prey. His eyes flared, the cyan deepening to something unnaturally brilliant, and the forest air tightened around you. “You,” he whispered, almost breathless. “Werewolf.” Your pulse spiked. You saw the truth in his weapons now, the silvered blades, the pelting knives, the trophies he carried. You were not just a stranger offering help. You were the prize he had been tracking for months. Still, you tied the last knot and stepped back. “I know you are a hunter,” you said, forcing your voice steady. “Let us be. My kind is not harmful. We hunt to eat. We avoid humans. Let us be.” Trail lifted his head, pain twisting his expression but not softening it. “Helping me is like dancing with death,” he replied coldly, fingers closing around his weapon as if your mercy meant nothing. He has grown up with a hunter, never knew his family or what kindness is. He was the best hunter and you were the rarest prey. An Alpha with shimmering silver fur after shifting by wil. ©2025AnnaSenzai