The cold bit into Michael’s skin, sharper than the knives he often used to fend for himself. The frigid air froze his breath in front of him, but it didn’t stop the trees from weeping, their branches sagging under the weight of melting frost. Above him, the hunting moon played a game of hide and seek, tucking itself behind dark clouds shaped like five massive, clawed paws.

Michael’s lips curved into a smirk as he drained the last of his milky ale, its warmth doing little to thaw the chill that had settled deep inside him. Life had become an endless cycle of misery for him, but instead of succumbing to despair, he drowned his sorrows in drink. Better to be drunk and numb than sober and haunted.

"Hey, naughty!" A teasing voice called out, cutting through his thoughts.

He turned unsteadily to find the girl who had earlier helped him off the cobbled street where he’d collapsed in his drunken haze. She was small, with strawberry-red hair cascading down her shoulders and a pair of green eyes so vibrant they seemed almost otherworldly. She was nothing like the other villagers he’d encountered—timid, wary, always looking the other way. She’d offered him kindness when no one else dared to.

“Come on,” she urged, rushing to steady him as he staggered again, nearly pitching off the bridge they crossed. Her touch was firm but delicate, and when Michael finally looked at her, truly looked, he found himself captivated by her simplicity. Her freckled skin glowed under the faint light of the moon, and her smile was unassuming yet alluring.

“Who are you?” he murmured, his words slurred but sincere as he leaned closer, almost brushing his lips against hers.

She pulled back abruptly, her cheeks flushing. “I… I’ve never kissed anyone before,” she admitted shyly, her voice cracking. “And if I’m going to have my first kiss, it won’t be here—not like this.”

Michael chuckled softly, his pride only slightly bruised. “Fair enough,” he said, brushing off her rejection with a shrug. “But would you like to spend the night with me?”

Her hesitation was brief but noticeable. “I… maybe,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

They ventured into the woods together, her tiny frame dwarfed by his towering one. The path was rough, the darkness oppressive, but they pressed on until they reached a tattered, weathered tent nestled among the trees. It was more of a makeshift shelter than a home, but it was all Michael and his sister Kaia had. Michael banged on the rusted doorframe with a force that made the whole structure shudder.

Inside, Kaia jolted awake, her blanket slipping off the old couch where she’d curled up for warmth. She knew it could only be Michael, and when she opened the door, her suspicions were confirmed. But her expression soured when she saw the girl standing beside him.

“Another one?” Kaia spat, her disdain palpable. She eyed Ylva with a mix of curiosity and contempt. The girl couldn’t have been more than sixteen, but Kaia wasn’t concerned about her age—only the danger her presence posed.

“Is that how you greet your big brother?” Michael chided, stepping inside and sinking onto the bed with a groan. He waved Ylva over, patting the spot beside him. Kaia rolled her eyes but held her tongue until they were alone.

“We need to talk,” she said curtly, dragging him outside.

Michael sighed and followed her, his irritation, plain. “What now?” he asked, crossing his arms as the chill seeped into his skin.

Kaia’s voice was low but urgent. “You can’t keep bringing girls here. You know how dangerous it is! If Alpha Lucas catches even a hint of our scent, we’re dead. You’re putting both our lives at risk every time you pull a stunt like this.”

Michael waved her off dismissively. “Relax. No one’s going to find us. We’re careful.”

“Careful?” Kaia scoffed. “Do you think running from pack to pack is sustainable? We’re outcasts, Michael. Rogues. Do you think that girl in there has any idea what you are? What we are?”

Michael’s jaw tightened. “She doesn’t need to know.”

Kaia stepped closer, her eyes blazing with frustration. “We should leave this territory. Go north, to the Arctic. We might find other lone wolves there—maybe even start our own pack. Staying here is suicide! Can't you see?”

Michael laughed bitterly. “Run away again? You mean like last time? Or have you forgotten how Alpha Audolf nearly ripped us apart when we crossed his border? I’m not leaving, Kaia. This is our home now. If you want to leave, go ahead. I’m staying today, and I would stay tomorrow.”

Kaia’s voice wavered, the weight of his words sinking in. “I’m not abandoning you. You’re my brother. It's just unfortunate that you’re so blind to the danger you put us in. You think you’re untouchable because you’ve got charm and a pretty face?  What a pity? That won’t save us when the Alphas come for our heads.”

Her words stung, but Michael refused to show it. “I’m not responsible for you anymore,” he said coldly. “You’re free to go. Stop making me feel guilty for wanting to live my life.”

Kaia swallowed hard, tears brimming in her eyes. “I just wish you cared enough to protect what little family we have left,” she whispered before turning and walking away, her silhouette swallowed by the darkness.

Michael stood there for a moment, listening to the rustle of leaves and the distant howl of wolves. When he finally returned to the tent, Ylva was waiting for him, her green eyes wide with curiosity.

“Everything okay?” she asked hesitantly.

“Fine,” he said shortly. He studied her for a moment, his expression softening. “What’s your name?”

“Ylva,” she replied. “Ylva Boris.”

“Pretty name,” he said with a faint smile. “Tell me, Ylva. Are you afraid of me?”

She hesitated. “No. But I… I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“Neither do I,” Michael admitted. “You’re here now, you should stay.”

Their conversation lingered in the air, unspoken truths and unacknowledged fears crackling like static. Michael leaned closer, his dark eyes searching hers. “You should go home. It’s not safe here.”

Ylva’s voice trembled as she replied, “I don’t want to go home. Not yet.”

Michael studied her for a moment longer before stepping aside to let her in. The door creaked shut behind them, and the darkness of the tent swallowed them whole.

Outside, Kaia sat on the cold grass, staring up at the moon. Her heart ached with longing—longing for a pack, for a mate, for a place to belong. Yet, as the howls of the Alpha’s wolves echoed in the distance, she knew one thing with certainty: danger was coming, and it wouldn’t spare them.