Chapter 23 Hunting Season

Chapter 23 Hunting Season
Clara's POV

"Just stay close to the house, they said. Perfectly safe during daylight, they said."
I mutter to myself while picking wild sage near the tree line. After last night's disaster in the medical bay, I needed air. Needed to do something useful that wouldn't drain my life force.
Gathering herbs seemed harmless enough.
The guards Kael assigned are nearby, two young wolves named Reed and Sofia. They're trying to look casual while clearly watching my every move.
"Found some yarrow!" I call to them, dropping the plants into my basket. "Great for infections."
Reed nods politely, but Sofia just stares at the forest like she's expecting an army to emerge from the trees.
She's not wrong to be cautious.
I'm reaching for another sage plant when I smell it, something wrong on the wind. Not the clean pine scent of Shadowclaw territory. Something heavier. Muskier.
"Reed?" My voice comes out smaller than intended. "Do you smell that?"
He's already moving toward me, his body tense. "Get behind me. Now."
I drop the basket and run to him, but I'm not fast enough.
They come from three directions at once, gray wolves, bigger than any dogs, their eyes gleaming with intelligence and malice. Bloodfangs.
Sofia shifts mid-run, her clothes tearing as she transforms into a brown wolf. She throws herself at the nearest attacker, teeth bared.
Reed grabs my arm. "Run! Back to the house!"
But more wolves emerge from the forest, cutting off our escape route. Five. Six. Too many.
"Clara Veyron." One of them speaks, a massive gray wolf with scars across his muzzle. "Marcus wants to meet you. Come quietly and your guards live."
"Go to hell," Reed snarls.
The scarred wolf shrugs. "Hard way, then."
They attack as one coordinated unit. Reed shifts to meet them, and suddenly I'm surrounded by snarling, snapping animals trying to kill each other.
Sofia goes down first. A wolf twice her size catches her throat and shakes. I hear bones crack.
"Sofia!" I scream.
Reed is fighting three at once, blood flying from wounds that appear faster than they can heal. He's losing.
The scarred wolf stalks toward me, and I stumble backward. My hand closes around a fallen branch, pathetic compared to claws and teeth, but it's all I have.
"Don't make this difficult," he growls.
I swing the branch at his face. It connects with a satisfying crack, and he yelps.
Then his paw hits my chest, and I'm flying backward. I hit a tree hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. Pain explodes through my ribs.
Can't breathe. Can't move. Can't scream.
The wolf is on me in seconds, his weight crushing. His teeth close around my shoulder, and agony rips through me. I feel skin tear, muscle separate.
This is it. This is how I die.
Then the wolf is gone, ripped away by something massive and silver.
Kael.
He's barely recognizable in this state, half-transformed, more monster than man. His claws are extended, his face distorted, his silver eyes glowing with inhuman rage.
The scarred wolf tries to run. Kael catches him in two bounds and tears his throat out.
The other Bloodfangs scatter, but Kael hunts them down one by one. It's not a fight, it's a slaughter. He moves like death itself, faster than should be possible, his fury making him unstoppable.
I press my hand against my bleeding shoulder and watch him kill. Should horrify me. Should make me sick.
Instead, I feel relief. He came. He saved me.
When the last Bloodfang falls, Kael finally turns to me. His chest heaves, covered in blood that isn't his. For a second, I think he might not recognize me, might be too lost to the wolf to remember I'm not prey.
Then his eyes clear. "Clara."
He's beside me instantly, his hands hovering over my wounds like he's afraid to touch. "How bad?"
"Shoulder. Maybe ribs." Speaking hurts. "Reed and Sofia…"
"I know." His jaw clenches. "Help is coming."
Warriors pour from the house, Damon leading them, weapons drawn. They slow when they see the bodies scattered around us.
"Get the healers," Kael orders. "Clara's hurt. Sofia's down. Reed needs immediate attention."
Two wolves rush to Reed, who's still breathing but barely. Sofia isn't moving at all.
"Is she…" I can't finish the question.
"Dead," Kael says flatly. "They killed her to get to you."
Guilt crashes over me. Sofia died protecting me. Because I wanted fresh air. Because I thought gathering herbs would be safe.
Damon kneels beside me, assessing my wounds. "Shoulder's deep. She needs stitches."
"I'll do it," Kael says.
"You're covered in blood and half-shifted. Let the healers…"
"I said I'll do it." The command in his voice brooks no argument.
He lifts me carefully, and I bite back a scream as pain shoots through my shoulder. The walk back to the house feels endless. Every step jostles my injuries.
In the medical bay, the same one where I collapsed last night, Kael lays me on the table. His hands shake as he cleans the wound.
"This is going to hurt," he warns.
"Do it."
The first stitch makes me gasp. The second makes me see stars. By the fifth, I'm gripping the table so hard my knuckles turn white.
"Almost done," he murmurs.
When he finishes, he steps back and just stares at me. The rage has drained away, leaving something worse, fear.
"They were waiting for you," he says quietly. "Knew exactly where you'd be. When you'd be vulnerable."
"The traitor told them."
"Yes." He strips off his bloody shirt, revealing new scratches across his chest. "This was a coordinated attack. Professional. They wanted you alive."
"For Marcus."
"For Marcus." He moves to the window, looking out at the grounds. "I can't protect you if you keep wandering off."
"I had guards…"
"Two guards aren't enough!" He spins to face me. "Sofia is dead, Clara. Reed might not make it through the night. And you nearly got dragged off to become Marcus's prisoner. All because you wanted to pick flowers."
"They were herbs, not flowers. And I needed…"
"What you need is to stay alive!" His voice rises. "What you need is to stop acting like you're invincible when you're the most vulnerable person in this entire territory!"
The accusation stings because it's true. I am vulnerable. Weak. A liability.
"So what do you want me to do?" I ask. "Lock myself in my room forever?"
"Yes."
The single word hangs between us.
"You're serious."
"Deadly serious." He crosses back to me. "From now on, you don't leave the house without me. You don't go anywhere without at least four guards. You don't even look out a window without someone checking the perimeter first."
"That's not protection, Kael. That's prison."
"It's survival." His eyes are hard. "I won't bury another person I love. I won't stand over your grave and wonder if I could have done more. If you can't understand that, then…"
"Then what? You'll lock me up anyway?"
He doesn't answer, which is answer enough.
"I saved your life today," he says finally. "Sofia died for you. Reed might die for you. The least you can do is make their sacrifice worth something by staying alive."
The guilt of it crushes me. He's right. They did die for me. And I can't even promise it won't happen again.
"Okay," I whisper. "I'll stay inside. I'll follow the rules."
"Good."
He leaves without another word, and I'm alone with my stitches and my guilt and the knowledge that I've become exactly what Helena said, a prisoner in all but name.
The mate who needs constant guarding.
The human who gets wolves killed.
The burden everyone wishes would just disappear.
Outside my window, I see warriors carrying Sofia's body toward wherever they take their dead.
Another death on my conscience.
Another reason I should have run when I had the chance.