Chapter 39 Planned against Snowpack
Tasha:
I stood in the kitchen longer than necessary, rinsing a mug that had already been washed earlier. The water ran hot over my fingers, steady and grounding. I focused on the sensation, on the sound of it hitting the steel sink, on the small routine of it all.
Neel slept in the bedroom. His breathing carried faintly through the apartment, slow and even, the sound familiar enough to be almost comforting. I dried my hands carefully and placed the mug upside down on the rack, aligning it with the others.
My phone was already in my pocket.
My keys sat where I always left them, beside the bowl near the door. I didn’t check the time. I already knew it was late enough.
I slipped on my jacket, paused once at the bedroom door, and watched Neel for a moment. He hadn’t moved. I closed the door softly behind me.
The drive to the border forest was quiet. Traffic thinned as the city gave way to darker stretches of road, the streetlights spaced farther apart until there were long gaps of shadow between them. I kept my speed steady, hands relaxed on the wheel.
When the pavement cracked into dirt and gravel, I slowed and pulled over, cutting the engine. The sudden silence pressed in around me. The forest began only a few steps away, dense and unmoving.
I stepped out of the car and crossed into the trees.
The air changed immediately. Cooler. Damp. The scent of soil and leaves replaced the faint smell of fuel and asphalt. I walked deeper until the road was only a distant presence behind me.
The shift came easily. My body adjusted the way it always did when I allowed it, bones settling, muscle stretching, breath deepening. Sound sharpened first, then scent. The night stopped being dark and started being clear.
I stayed still.
The forest carried sound well. Footsteps reached me before voices did, approaching along the road. Two humans, close together, talking without concern. Their voices were relaxed, unaware of how close the trees pressed in around them.
I waited until they were close enough that the forest surrounded them on both sides.
I moved once.
When it was over, I stepped back and looked at what remained. I adjusted nothing that did not need adjusting. The marks were clear. The damage unmistakable. Anyone who saw it would understand exactly what they were meant to see.
I turned away and disappeared into the trees.
Downstream, I washed the blood from my fur in cold water. The current carried it away quickly. By the time I stepped back onto the bank, the wolf had already begun to withdraw, leaving my body heavy and quiet again.
Morning arrived loudly.
Helicopter blades thudded over the border forest before the sun fully cleared the horizon. Sirens cut through the quiet roads, echoing between trees and buildings alike. By the time cameras arrived, the area was already sealed.
I sat at the kitchen table with Neel, the television on low volume. Footage rolled across the screen: flashing lights, police tape, blurred shots of the tree line from above.
Neel stared without blinking. His coffee sat untouched beside his hand.
“They’re not waiting,” he said finally.
I followed his gaze to the screen. “They never do.”
He exhaled slowly, rubbing his palm over his face. “This many deaths near a pack border? They’ll move fast.”
A knock cut through the room before either of us could say more.
Dr. Harris stepped inside with his coat still on, rain darkening the shoulders. His expression was tight, focused. He didn’t bother sitting.
“They issued the order at dawn,” he said. “Snow Pack has to evacuate the town by nightfall.”
Neel stood up sharply. “That fast?”
“They’re calling it a containment failure,” Harris replied. “Military command took over almost immediately.”
“And the wolf?” Neel asked.
“They want the one responsible turned over,” Harris said. “Alive, if possible.”
Neel let out a short breath that sounded almost like a laugh. “They won’t do that.”
Harris shook his head. “No. And command knows it.”
I folded my hands in my lap, keeping my voice even. “Moving them out won’t calm anything.”
Neel turned toward me. “Why do you say that?”
“They’ll see it as punishment,” I said. “Not a solution.”
Harris’s jaw tightened slightly. “That concern is already being raised internally.”
Neel started pacing, his steps uneven against the floor. “If they think humans are forcing them back, they won’t stay quiet.”
“They won’t,” I said.
Harris watched him closely. “If that’s true, officials need to hear it now.”
Neel stopped pacing and pulled out his phone. “I’ll call them.”
He stepped into the next room, already speaking, his voice low and urgent.
I stayed at the table. The footage on the television shifted to a map of the border forest, Snow Pack territory outlined in red. A label appeared beneath it, clinical and impersonal.
No one asked how I had known this would happen.
They didn’t question the timing, or the certainty in my voice.
Snow Pack was being watched now. Forced to move. Pressured from all sides.
When they reacted, it would not surprise anyone at all.