Chapter 5 5

They reached the truck just as another howl ripped through the forest, closer than before. Lachlan didn't wait; he practically shoved Amara into the passenger seat before slamming the door shut and rounding to the driver's side.

The engine roared to life, and the truck jerked forward, bouncing over the uneven terrain as Lachlan sped back toward the main road. Amara clutched the door handle, her knuckles white, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

"What was that thing?" she demanded, her voice shaking. "It wasn't like you."

"It's not," Lachlan said tersely, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. "It's feral. Rogue."

"Rogue?" she echoed. "What does that even mean?"

He glanced at her, his jaw tightening. "It means it's lost its mind. No pack, no control-just instinct and violence."

Her stomach churned. "And it was looking for me? Why?"

"I don't know," he admitted, his grip on the wheel tightening. "But rogues don't just attack for no reason. It had a purpose. And I need to figure out what it is before it tries again."

Amara stared at him, her pulse racing. "How do you even know it's coming back?"

He shot her a grim look. "Because rogues don't give up. Once they've got a target, they don't stop until they've finished what they started."

The weight of his words settled over her like a cold blanket. She turned to the window, watching the trees blur past, her mind racing. This was supposed to be her fresh start, a quiet life away from the chaos she'd left behind. But now, she was caught in something far more dangerous than she'd ever imagined.

The truck hit the main road, and Lachlan finally eased off the gas, though his eyes still darted to the mirrors every few seconds.

"Where are we going?" she asked after a long silence.

"To my place," he said.

Her brows shot up. "Your place? Why?"

"Because it's safe," he said simply. "Rogues don't wander into pack territory unless they're looking for a death sentence. My place is warded. You'll be protected there."

Pack territory. Warded. Protected. The words sounded ridiculous, like something out of a fantasy novel, but after what she'd seen tonight, Amara couldn't bring herself to argue.

Still, she crossed her arms, her voice skeptical. "And how do I know I can trust you? You could be leading me into something worse."

Lachlan glanced at her, his expression softening just slightly. "If I wanted to hurt you, I would've done it already. I've been keeping you alive, not the other way around."

She hated that he had a point.

The rest of the drive passed in tense silence, the only sound the hum of the engine and the faint rustle of wind through the trees.

When they finally arrived at Lachlan's house, Amara couldn't hide her surprise. She'd expected something rough and unwelcoming, but the cabin tucked deep in the woods was the opposite. Warm light glowed from the windows, and the structure itself was sturdy and well-kept, surrounded by a neatly stacked woodpile and a wraparound porch.

Lachlan killed the engine and got out, motioning for her to follow.

Inside, the cabin was just as unexpected. It was spacious but cozy, with a stone fireplace dominating one wall and shelves lined with books and artifacts that looked older than the town itself.

"You live here alone?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

"For now," he said, locking the door behind them.

She didn't miss the way he checked the locks twice or the way his shoulders remained tense, even in his own home.

"Sit," he said, gesturing to the worn leather couch in the living room.

Amara hesitated, then did as he asked, her gaze darting around the space. "So... now what? You lock me up in here and go fight that thing on your own?"

Lachlan gave a low chuckle, though there was no humor in it. "Not quite. You're not staying here alone. I'll keep watch until we figure out what's going on."

She frowned. "Why are you doing this? You don't even know me."

He leaned against the edge of the fireplace, his silver eyes catching the firelight. "Because it's my responsibility. My pack controls these woods. Anything that happens here falls on us to handle. And you-" He paused, his gaze narrowing slightly. "You're in the middle of something bigger than you realize."

Amara's frustration boiled over. "Stop saying that! If you know something, just tell me!"

Lachlan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's not that simple. There's a lot about this town, about the people here, that you don't know. Things we don't talk about with outsiders."

"Outsiders?" she snapped. "I live here now. I work here. I'm not an outsider."

He pushed off the fireplace and crossed the room, stopping just in front of her. "You don't understand. Blackwood isn't just a town. It's a boundary, a line between two worlds. My world," he said, his voice low, "and theirs."

She swallowed hard, his proximity making her pulse quicken. "Theirs? You mean... the rogues?"

"Rogues, hunters, others who would rather see my kind dead," he said bitterly. "And now, for some reason, you're caught in the middle of it."

Amara stared at him, her heart pounding. She wanted to tell him he was wrong, that she had nothing to do with any of this. But deep down, she knew there was more to her being in Blackwood than just coincidence.

"What do we do now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lachlan's gaze softened. "We figure out why the rogue was after you. And we stop it before it comes back."

"And if it does?"

He crouched in front of her, his expression deadly serious. "Then I'll make sure it doesn't leave alive."

The weight of his words settled over her like a heavy blanket. She didn't know what scared her more-the rogue or the fact that she was starting to trust him.