Chapter 4- The Journey
Sahiyra POV
We left the den just before dawn.
The forest was still half dark, but I didn’t need light to move. I knew these paths like I knew my own breath. Every bend, every tree root, every whisper of wind through the brush, I’d memorized them with my body over years of living wild.
The men tried to keep up. To their credit, they didn’t slow me down much. We moved in silence, save for the rustle of ferns underfoot and the occasional low murmur between the two of them. I didn’t ask what they were saying. I didn’t care. My focus was on every sound outside the trail, every distant howl, every shift in the air.
Eventually, Kylen dropped back beside me. “You’re fast.”
“I’m quiet.”
“Both,” he said, glancing at me. “Most females can’t even walk half a mile without complaint.”
“Sounds like their problem,” I muttered.
He huffed a short laugh, but didn’t argue. It took us less than an hour to reach the outer ridge near their camp. I slowed as we approached, instincts prickling.
The scent of more males hit the air hard, ten, maybe fifteen in range. Some calm. Some… not. They were waiting. Jaxen motioned for me to stop. He stepped forward, just enough to signal with two fingers.
A low whistle answered from the trees. “We’re clear,” he said, glancing back at me. “But just a heads up… they’re going to be overwhelmed.”
“I’m used to that,” I said dryly.
Kylen turned to me fully. “You don’t owe anyone anything. You don’t have to speak. Just… let us handle it if things get loud.”
I arched a brow. “Loud?”
He grinned. “You’ll see.”
We stepped into the clearing and it was like walking into a wall of heat and tension and testosterone. The original eight were already up and moving, setting up cookfires and sharpening blades. They looked up as we entered....most dipped their heads respectfully, their eyes averted. They’d seen me before. They knew.
But the others? Not so much. I could feel the shift immediately. Every movement slowed. Every breath thickened. Every single gaze landed on me like claws scraping skin.
A few of them froze completely, like prey caught in the crosshairs. One, tall, broad, and marked with jagged crimson tattoos across his jaw, stumbled where he stood, eyes wide as he drank me in.
Another stepped forward. Big. Muscled. Antlers tattooed on his throat. He didn’t look aggressive, not at first. Just… curious. Curious enough to get too fucking close.
“Back. Off,” Jaxen snarled.
His voice dropped like a weight, cracking the air in two. It wasn’t just warning, it was dominance, pure and uncut. The man froze mid step. And then the others started moving.
It was subtle at first. A shuffle. A ripple. That slow, simmering shift predators get when something rare enters their territory.
One low whistle. A sharp inhale. And then a fucking rush of emotion.
Curiosity. Desire. Need. It poured off them in waves. My breathing tightened. I didn’t like it. The pull. The pressure. The way the entire clearing felt like it was starting to quake beneath the weight of too much male energy.
They weren’t being cruel. They weren’t trying to scare me. But it was too much. I closed my eyes, just for a breath. Then I let go. Just a thread. A wisp. A flicker of my power. My aura swept out like a warm exhale, curling soft fingers around every chest in the camp and slamming them into calm.
One by one, they dropped to their knees or staggered backward, eyes wide, mouths parted, pulse slowed. Even the new ones. Even the alpha with the antler tattoo. Even fucking Jaxen, whose breath hitched the moment it hit him.
And Kylen? That man choked on a groan. I didn’t need to look at him to know. He liked it. A little too much.
I let the calm linger for just a few seconds. Then I pulled it back in and opened my eyes. They were all still. Watching me like I was a thunderstorm wrapped in silk.
“Let’s try something new,” I said, my voice steady. “How about we breathe. And use words. And talk like grown males.”
No one said shit. Until Jaxen coughed and muttered, “Fuck me.” And Kylen...Kylen had turned his back completely, hands braced on his hips, shoulders tight.
“I warned you,” he said under his breath.
“What?” I asked.
He looked over his shoulder, mouth curved in a grin that was all teeth and heat.
“Told you they’d lose their minds.”
Once the growling settled and their blood stopped boiling under their skin, thanks to a healthy dose of my aura, the camp started to actually function like a real group of males again.
Tents were staked. Weapons checked. Fires rebuilt. They moved like a well trained unit… one still very much trying not to stare at me.
I perched on a log near the fire, legs crossed, chin in hand, watching with amused detachment as one of them stirred a dented pot hanging over the flames. The scent of boiling meat wafted up, rabbit, maybe. But it was plain. Bland. No herbs. No heart.
When one of the younger ones dished it out into crude stone bowls and passed them around, Kylen made a face like he’d just been handed a pile of wet moss.
“You poor bastards,” he said, sniffing the bowl. “This is what you think passes for dinner?”
“It’s rabbit,” the male mumbled. “What else you want?”
“Spice. Flavor. A will to live.” Kylen nudged Jaxen, grinning. “Tell ‘em about Sahriya’s cooking.”
Jaxen snorted. “That stew she made in her den? Best damn thing I’ve had in years. Tasted like it was kissed by the gods themselves.”
“Humble,” I murmured.
“I’m deadass,” Jaxen said, grinning at me over his bowl. “You ever decide to open a tavern out in those woods? I’ll hunt for you every damn day.”
Their words earned me a few more glances. Jealous ones. Hungry ones. Not just for food. One male scooted a little too close to my log. Then another. And another.
“Back off,” Kylen growled. “She’s not some relic to crowd around.”
“She ain’t yours,” one snapped back.
“She ain’t yours either,” another added.
“She sure as fuck ain’t yours,” Jaxen snapped, standing up.
It happened fast. One shove. Two fists. A growl that turned into a snarl.
Idiots.
I sighed, stood up, and planted both hands on my hips. Then I cracked the seal on my aura just enough to remind them. It slid out like mist from my skin, warm, velvet-soft, and absolutely suffocating in its power. A tidal wave of calm, submission, and stillness washed over the camp.
They froze mid motion. Some halfway through a lunge. Others with fists curled and lips peeled back. And then, like marionettes with cut strings, they slumped. Some to the ground. Some back into their seats. One male just flopped flat on his back and groaned.
“Are we done?” I asked sweetly.
Silence.
“I’m not a prize in a pit fight. You want to be near me? Act like you’ve got a brain between your ears. Or I’ll keep you on your asses for the rest of the damn season.”
That got me a few chuckles. Mostly nervous ones. Kylen, though? His eyes were black with something dangerously close to awe. Jaxen looked about three seconds away from proposing.
They didn’t say much after that, just handed me a fresh bowl of stew and started prepping sleeping cots while the others recovered from their public spiritual ass kicking.
They argued, of course. Whispered and pointed and glared.
In the end, they both laid their bedrolls on either side of mine like damn sentries, fluffing the furs like this was some royal ceremony.
“You don’t have to do all that,” I teased.
“Humor us,” Kylen murmured, tucking the edge of the blanket around me.
“You’ll be warm. And safe,” Jaxen added, adjusting a second fur.
I arched a brow. “Is this what being courted looks like?”
They both grinned. “No,” Jaxen said. “This is us trying not to lose our fucking minds,” Kylen muttered.
I snorted, closed my eyes, and let the fire’s crackle lull me to sleep. Safe. Warm. Surrounded by predators who were slowly learning who the real apex was.
And I hadn’t even shown them my teeth yet.