Chapter Forty-Three: Into the Woods

Charlie followed the familiar path from the orphanage back to the packhouse, her steps light and measured as the cool evening air swirled around her. The past week had brought a sense of peace she hadn't expected—each day filled with joy and a growing connection to the pups at the orphanage.

But tonight, as the darkness deepened and the moon rose higher in the sky, something felt different. There was a weight in the air, a prickling sensation at the back of her neck that made her uneasy. Raven stirred in the back of her mind, her wolf’s presence stronger now that she had begun to heal from their traumatic first shift. Though not fully recovered, Raven was regaining her strength, and her instincts were sharper than ever.

‘Something’s off’, Raven warned, her voice a low rumble in Charlie’s head.

Charlie paused for a moment, scanning the tree line that bordered the path. The woods loomed large and dark, their dense foliage casting long shadows over the ground. The air was still, almost too still, as if the world itself were holding its breath. She shook her head, trying to brush off the uneasy feeling that crept over her, and continued walking.

Then, cutting through the quiet night, came a sound—a cry for help.

Charlie stopped dead in her tracks, her heart leaping into her throat. She strained her ears, listening for the sound again, but for a moment, there was only silence. Then it came again, faint but distinct. Someone was calling out for help, and they were close. Too close for her to ignore.

Her pulse quickened as she turned her head toward the woods, where the voice seemed to be coming from. The trees looked darker than before, their shadows deeper, more menacing. Every instinct in Charlie’s body screamed for her to turn back, to head straight for the safety of the packhouse and get Luther and Liam. Raven’s voice echoed in her mind, firm and insistent.

‘Don’t go into the woods alone, Charlie. It’s too dangerous.’

Charlie hesitated, her heart battling with her head. She knew Raven was right. Going into the woods alone at night was a risk she wasn’t fully prepared for, especially with her wolf still healing and her own abilities only just starting to awaken. But then the cry came again—desperate and filled with pain—and Charlie’s sense of compassion flared up, pushing aside her fear.

‘I can’t just leave someone out there’, she thought, clenching her fists at her sides. ‘What if they’re hurt?’

Raven growled in frustration. ‘Go back. Get Luther and Liam. They can handle this.’

But the cry tugged at Charlie’s heartstrings, and despite the warnings ringing in her mind, she couldn’t just walk away. Someone needed help. Someone might be in danger.

“I’ll be careful,” Charlie whispered, though it felt more like she was trying to convince herself than Raven.

With a deep breath and one final glance toward the safety of the packhouse, she turned and headed into the dense, shadowed woods.

The moment she stepped off the path, the darkness closed in around her. The trees here were thick and towering, their branches creating a canopy that blocked out most of the moonlight. Her enhanced vision, a gift from her wolf, helped her navigate the shadows, but it wasn’t enough to make the woods feel any less foreboding. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, sent her heart racing. She hadn’t fully embraced her new abilities yet, still hesitant after the trauma of her first shift, and it left her feeling vulnerable.

Branches scraped against her skin as she pushed through the underbrush, leaving small cuts and scratches that stung before slowly starting to heal. She winced but kept going, determined to find whoever was calling for help. The cries were coming more frequently now, and each one sounded more desperate than the last.

Suddenly, she tripped over a fallen log, her foot catching on the uneven ground. She fell forward, catching herself with her hands just before hitting the dirt. The sting of a fresh scrape on her palm made her wince, but she ignored the pain, pushing herself back up. Raven was practically howling in her mind now, her anxiety bleeding into Charlie’s thoughts.

‘Turn back, Charlie! Get out of here! This isn’t right!’

Charlie gritted her teeth. ‘I can’t leave them’, she responded, though doubt was starting to creep in. ‘What if it’s a child? What if they’re hurt?’

She continued moving forward, her steps more hurried now as she followed the sounds of distress. Her heart pounded in her chest as the cries grew louder, guiding her deeper into the woods. Her clothes snagged on branches, and more cuts opened up on her arms and legs as she pushed through the dense foliage. The woods were disorienting, the shadows playing tricks on her vision, but she kept going, driven by the need to help.

Finally, after what felt like hours of stumbling through the trees, Charlie reached a small clearing just near the pack’s borders. The trees parted, revealing a patch of ground bathed in faint moonlight. And there, lying in the center of the clearing, was a small figure curled up on the ground.

Charlie’s heart lurched. The figure was small, frail, and unmoving. From where she stood, it looked like a child—someone tiny and vulnerable. Panic surged through her, and she hurried forward, her breath coming in short gasps.

“Are you okay?” she called out, her voice shaking as she approached.

But there was no response. The figure remained motionless, huddled on the ground, their limbs tucked close to their body. Charlie’s heart raced as she knelt down, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch them.

But the moment her fingers brushed against the person’s arm, a cold chill ran down her spine.

‘This isn’t a child.’

Charlie’s breath caught in her throat as she looked more closely at the figure before her. The body wasn’t small because it was a child—it was small because the person was curled up in a fetal position, their body thin and emaciated. Their clothes were tattered, and their hair was matted with dirt and leaves.

And then, recognition hit her like a bolt of lightning.

It wasn’t just any woman lying before her. It was Leah.

Charlie gasped, stumbling back as fear surged through her. ‘Leah?’ How was this possible? Leah had been banished. She was supposed to be gone, out of the pack’s territory. But now, here she was, lying in the dirt, her body reduced to little more than skin and bones.

Charlie’s voice came out in a whisper, trembling with shock and confusion. “Leah?”

The woman didn’t respond. Her breathing was shallow, barely there, and her body remained still. She looked so different from the woman Charlie had known. Leah, who had once been so strong and manipulative, now lay broken and fragile.

Charlie’s mind raced, torn between the instinct to run and the compassion that had driven her into the woods in the first place. Leah had hurt her, tormented her, tried to ruin her relationship with the twins. But seeing her like this—so helpless and alone—it tugged at something deep inside Charlie’s heart.

What had happened to her?

Raven was practically screaming in Charlie’s mind now, her voice filled with panic and desperation. ‘Get out of here! This isn’t safe! Go get Luther and Liam!’

But Charlie couldn’t move. She was frozen in place, her eyes locked on Leah’s frail form, torn between fear and the overwhelming need to help.

She took a shaky breath, her legs trembling beneath her as she knelt down beside Leah again. She couldn’t just leave her here. Not like this.

“Leah?” she whispered again, her voice barely audible.

And then, very slowly, Leah’s eyes fluttered open.