Julian hurries forward with my discarded clothes, his expression oscillating between awe and embarrassment. I dress unhurriedly, maintaining eye contact with Zane.
“Now that we’ve established mutual respect,” I say when I’m clothed again, “shall we return to negotiations? Or would you prefer to continue dismissing us as domesticated animals?”
A hint of amusement crosses Zane’s features. “We’ll continue tomorrow. My pack needs to... reconsider our position.”
I consider this a small victory. “We’ll meet tomorrow then. Same time?”
He nods once, then turns to leave, his pack falling in behind him. But before he reaches the forest edge, he pauses, looking back at me over his shoulder.
“You surprised me, Ambassador Steelclaw,” he calls. “That doesn’t happen often.”
“Good,” I reply. “Perhaps you’ll listen more carefully tomorrow.”
He smiles then—a genuine smile that transforms his stern features, making him look younger, almost approachable. “Perhaps I will.”
The settlement representatives gather around me whilethe Shadow Wolves disappear into the forest, their expressions ranging from shock to admiration.
“That was either the bravest or most foolish thing I’ve ever seen a diplomat do,” Elder Tessa says, shaking her head. “But I think... I think it worked.”
“For now,” I caution. “Zane Blackthorn isn’t easily impressed, and Marcus is actively hostile. We still have a long way to go before reaching any agreement.”
Returning to the negotiations tent to gather our scattered documents, I feel a strange certainty that something fundamental has changed. The moment I shifted, I witnessed recognition on Zane’s face—not just of my power, but of something deeper, a connection neither of us anticipated.
That strange electrical awareness I felt yesterday has intensified, leaving me simultaneously unsettled and exhilarated. Whatever is happening between us transcends simple friction. And it presents far more danger to my mission.
Tomorrow’s negotiations will test not just my diplomatic skills but my control over instincts I’ve kept firmly leashed for years—instincts that Zane Blackthorn has somehow awakened with nothing more than his presence and that penetrating stare.
3
ZANE
Ilead my pack toward the settlement farmlands before dawn breaks. Mist hangs close to the ground, providing perfect cover for our approach. The wolves move silently behind me, each step precisely placed. This is what the domesticated shifters lack—the ability to become one with the forest, to exist as true predators rather than pampered pets.
Marcus slips through the shadows to my side, his dark gray fur nearly invisible in the half-light. He watches me, yellow eyes alert with anticipation. I read his thoughts easily. The fire panther’s display yesterday might have been impressive, but she remains what she is—tamed, constrained by rules, disconnected from her true nature. Today’s hunt will demonstrate who truly holds power in these woods.
I halt the pack at the forest edge where cultivated fields begin. River’s Edge settlement sprawls before us, one of the three communities that have encroached on ancestral Shadow Wolf hunting grounds. The human structurescluster near the riverbank by the water that quenched the thirst of my ancestors for generations before these intruders arrived. Familiar anger rises at the thought, but I quell it instantly. Clear judgment serves an alpha better than rage.
The settlement stirs below. Farmers’ chimneys send smoke into the morning air. A few settlers move between buildings. Their livestock—pathetic creatures that have never known freedom—sense our presence even if their keepers remain oblivious.
I communicate our plan to Marcus through subtle shifts in posture, needing no words. He understands immediately, moving along the line to position our hunters. The younger wolves vibrate with barely contained excitement. They’ve waited for this moment—the first step toward reclaiming what was stolen from us.
Our strategy requires precision. We’ll take their food resources but spare their lives—for now. They need to understand their vulnerability. The ambassador can claim Haven’s Heart holds authority here, but we’ll prove otherwise.
At my signal, we pour from the trees into the farmlands.
Within minutes, chaos consumes the settlement. My wolves dart among cattle herds, driving them toward the forest. Sheep panic when we tear through their enclosures. Humans rush from their homes shouting, some brandishing crude weapons. I’ve directed the pack to avoid confrontation for now. This demonstration concerns fear, not slaughter.
Marcus tests these limits. He traps a farmer who foolishly defended his livestock, teeth bared in threat. One sharp bark from me, and he retreats—but not before leaving the human trembling in terror.
More organized shouts emerge from the central settlement.They’re attempting to mount a defense. Futile. They’ll soon discover how unprepared they truly are.
Then a new scent reaches me—fire and spice mingled with something that triggers an unwelcome reaction in my blood. The ambassador has arrived.
My attention shifts to the eastern settlement edge, where I spot Ember running toward the disturbance in her Haven’s Heart uniform, auburn hair catching the early sunlight. Her face shows pure outrage as she witnesses my wolves driving away the settlers’ precious livestock.
Time to elevate this lesson. I release a commanding howl that echoes through the valley. My pack joins, our voices merging in a sound that has terrified enemies for centuries. The ambassador pauses briefly at the chorus.
But then she does something unexpected. Rather than rallying the settlers or attempting intervention, she removes her jacket and transforms. Flames engulf her human form as she shifts into a fire panther larger than any natural feline. Heat shimmers around her fur as she roars a challenge that matches our howls.
