Chapter 206

Ava

The drive to Crescent Moon was long and treacherous. Chris and I sat tense in the back of the car, waiting for the moment when we would eventually have to leave the vehicles behind and continue on foot; we’d be able to make it about halfway up the mountain, though, before that happened.

As we wound our way up the mountain roads, I couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer isolation of this pack. The terrain became increasingly rugged, with steep cliffs on one side and dense forest on the other. And to think that Crescent Moon was the wealthiest and most successful pack.

“I can see why they don’t get many visitors,” I commented, peering out the window at the dizzying drop beside the car.

Chris nodded, following my gaze. The sheer dropoff below was all jagged rocks, with the greenery along the steep side having thinned out long ago. Here and there, you could make out specks of green and colorful wildflowers growing out of the craggy gaps. It was surprisingly beautiful.

“It’s definitely not for the faint of heart,” he chuckled wryly. “I think I’m starting to understand why Alpha Winston is so protective of his territory.”

As we climbed higher, the road narrowed dangerously. Eventually, we reached a point where it was clear the cars couldn’t continue. It was time to begin the hike, I supposed. It would have been far easier if both Chris and I could shift, but since I was still struggling with my transformation, we’d be stuck on two feet instead of four.

“Well, looks like this is as far as we go on wheels,” Chris sighed as our driver pulled over to a small clearing along the side of the road.

We got out of the car, stretching our legs after the long drive. The air was noticeably thinner up here, and I took a few deep breaths to adjust. Meanwhile, Chris was gathering our security team, going over the plan one last time.

“Ava and I will go alone,” he said. “You guys should head back down to that motel we saw before we hit the base of the mountain. We’ll call you when we’re ready to meet back up.”

One of the officers frowned. “Are you still sure that’s wise, Alpha? We’re here for your protection.”

Chris shook his head. “I appreciate your concern, but we don’t want to appear threatening. Alpha Winston is already wary of outsiders. A security detail might send the wrong message. It’s best if Ava and I go alone.”

After some back-and-forth, the team reluctantly agreed. As they prepared to head back down the mountain, Chris and I shouldered our backpacks, which were laden with more than enough camping supplies for the two-day hike.

“Ready for a hike?” Chris asked, grinning at me as he helped me tighten my backpack straps.

I nodded, kicking my sturdy boots against a nearby rock. “I was born to hike. You, on the other hand…”

“Hey, hey,” Chris teased, smacking my arm lightly. “I hiked plenty in the human world.”

“We’ll see how those manicured human hiking trails compare to this,” I retorted, gesturing up at the looming mountaintop overhead.

“Is that a challenge?”

“Perhaps.”

Once we were ready, we set off along the narrow mountain path. I had to admit that the scenery was breathtaking once you got used to the height, with sweeping vistas of the valley below and snow-capped peaks in the distance. Every so often, we could stop for a few minutes just to admire the view.

But, despite the beauty, the trek was incredibly challenging. The path was steep and often treacherous, with loose rocks and exposed roots threatening to trip us at every step. While the trail was safe enough, Chris had been right in his earlier statement: it certainly wasn’t for the faint of heart.

After a few hours of hiking, my legs were burning, and my breath was coming out in short gasps as the air thinned out. Chris, on the other hand, seemed barely winded. My age was beginning to show; even though I had kept myself in good shape over the years, I supposed I still wasn’t a match for a man ten years my junior.

“How are you not exhausted?” I panted, pausing to take a swig from my water bottle and rest one foot on a nearby rock.

He shrugged, hiking his backpack up a little further on his shoulders. “Are you starting to admit that your earlier comment about human hiking trails was unfounded?”

I snorted. “No. Never.”

I was about to catch up to him when my foot caught on a hidden root. I stumbled, crying out as my ankle twisted painfully beneath me. Chris was at my side in an instant, crouching down to where I had fallen to my knees in the dirt.

No, not dirt—mud. My pack, heavy, tipped me over and landed me on my back, soaking the thin nylon with slick, wet soil. I felt like one of those roly-poly bugs whose little feet kicked when you put them on their back.

“Are you okay?” Chris asked, grabbing my arm.

“Yeah, I’m fi—” I tried to stand, but a sharp pain shot through my ankle. I winced, the pain cutting me off.

“You sure about that?” Chris asked gently.

I grimaced as I eased myself back down. “On second thought, I think I twisted my ankle.”

Chris leaned down and examined my ankle, his fingers gentle against my skin. “It’s starting to swell. We should rest for a bit.”

I shook my head, frustrated. “I’ll be fine. We can’t stop now. We’re already behind schedule.” I tried to stand again, but the pain shot up my leg and it was all I could do to stumble against a nearby boulder and grip it for support.

“You’re not walking with that injury,” Chris said firmly. Then, to my surprise, he turned his back to me and crouched down. “Hop on. I’ll carry you.”

“Chris, don’t be ridiculous. With both of us wearing these heavy backpacks?” I snorted. “I should just head back down and you should go up the rest of the way by yourself.”

He shot me a withering look over his shoulder. “Ava, I’m not leaving you behind, and we’re not staying here. Now, are you going to get on, or do I need to throw you over my shoulder?”

Realizing he was serious, I reluctantly climbed onto the top of his backpack. To my surprise, Chris stood with ease, adjusting my weight as if I weighed nothing at all.

“Comfortable?” he asked.

“Surprisingly, yes.”

“Good.”

Chris set off, maintaining a steady pace despite the added burden of both me and my backpack. I was impressed by his strength and endurance. Even with me on his back, he navigated the difficult terrain with grace, never once stumbling.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the mountainside, Chris pointed to a small structure in the distance that was nestled into a grove of pine trees. “Look, there’s the checkpoint cabin. We can stay there for the night.”

Relief washed over me. By the time we reached the cabin, twilight had fallen, and the temperature had dropped significantly. Chris set me down gently before pushing open the cabin door. My ankle felt well enough to walk a bit now, and I slid my backpack off and plopped it on the floor.

The interior of the cabin was small but functional, with a stone fireplace, a couple of bunks, and a basic kitchenette. Chris quickly got to work starting a fire while I hobbled over to one of the bunks.

As the flames began to crackle, spreading warmth through the cabin, my stomach growled loudly. Chris laughed. “I guess it’s dinner time. Let’s see what we’ve got.”

“I’ll make us something,” I said, rising from my seat. I reached for my backpack, but as I opened it, my heart sank. “Oh, shit,” I groaned.

“What’s wrong?” Chris asked, coming over to look.

“When I fell earlier, I landed on my bag. A bunch of our food got wet and squished.” With two fingers, I pulled out a dented soup can, which had somehow exploded and gotten cold, wet soup all over the interior of my bag.

Chris peered into the bag, assessing the damage. Most of our food was now a soggy mess, and even the trail mix had turned into an unappetizing mush.

“Don’t worry about it,” Chris said, straightening up. “I’ve got an idea.”

Before I could ask what he meant, he was heading for the door. “Chris? Where are you going?”

He paused at the threshold, flashing me a grin. “To get us some dinner. I won’t be long.”

“But—” I started, but my question was cut short as Chris stepped outside and shifted into his wolf form in one fluid motion.

“Chris, wait!” I called, but he was already bounding off into the darkening forest.