Chapter 3 Ruby's holds memories

"Can't I go hunting with you, Grandpa? Please? I'm eight now. I can do it."

His laugh was warm, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. I remember how he groaned a little, the sound of age catching up to him, as he pulled me into his lap and rested his rough hand over mine.

"The woods aren't safe, Ellis, or else I'd take you in a heartbeat. You know that. Just last week I lost Ranger."

I gasped, already knowing, but hoping I was wrong. "You mean your best dog? I thought he just... got lost."

His eyes tightened. "Wolves got him. I'd been tracking one that morning. Must've been the alpha. Smart son of a bitch. Led the hounds right into a trap. I didn't have time to break them off."

"But you said wolves are scared of people. I won't run off. I'll stay by your side. I promise."

"It sounds simple and safe enough, I know," he murmured, his voice deep with that serious tone I'd only heard once or twice before. "But hunting's not just shooting and walking in the woods. There's always risk. Always a moment where instinct takes over and you have to act before you can think. If I'm watching over you, I can't do what needs to be done. It only takes a second for something to go wrong."

He sighed, eyes drifting to the dark window across from us. I remember the way the rocking chair creaked under our weight. It was comforting. Familiar. Until it wasn't.

"Wolves are tricky," he said. "Too damn smart for their own good. They don't just hunt. They plan. They observe. And they're vicious when they finally strike. I've never known another predator to be so calculating. Not bears. Not cats. Not even man, sometimes."

I didn't understand what he meant. Not then. But the way his brow creased and his eyes turned glassy with memory-that's what stayed with me.

"What do wolves do that's so bad?" I asked quietly. "How are they the smartest?"

His expression changed. He stopped rocking. The weight of silence pressed down on the room, so heavy I remember feeling it in my chest.

"You can't understand unless you've seen it firsthand," he said. "Unless you've felt how they manipulate you. They'll let a dog think it's winning. They'll run in huge circles just to wear them out, always staying just far enough ahead. They've done it for generations. They know the land better than we ever will."

He shook his head, a frown cutting deeper into the weathered lines of his face. "They're fast. So damn fast. But it ain't speed that makes them dangerous. It's how they wait. Watch. Let you dig your own grave without even knowing it."

My grandpa's eyes flicked down to me and softened, but the unease in his features never faded. "It's not just one wolf you're chasing, sweetheart. It's never one. The others hide just out of sight. Waiting for the moment you get tired... or too confident. Then they move in. Quiet. Quick. Merciless. And once they have you, that's it. It's over before you even scream."

That conversation never left me. I still remember the weight of it now as clearly as I did then.

He hadn't meant to scare me. But I had been scared. So scared I'd never asked again. Never wanted to go with him after that night, even when he invited me years later. Something in his eyes told me everything I needed to know-what he'd seen was something that still haunted him, and now it haunted me too.

I could face down murderers, navigate dark alleys in the city, even negotiate with armed criminals. But the look on my grandpa's face that night? That still undid me.

The image came back to me like a tidal wave as I stared down the narrow forest road, headlights carving through the black. Wolves tearing into his beloved dog. Blood in the snow. Fur flying. Ghosts of hounds I'd grown up with still howling in my memory. They were just dreams. But they had felt real. I'd been there in those dreams. Watching.

"Come on, Ellis," I muttered aloud, trying to ground myself. "Don't go there. They're just wolves. If you should fear anything, it's the damn bears. That's what's been killing people out here. Not wolves."

Wolves were like dogs, weren't they? Wild dogs, sure. But dogs nonetheless. And I had a gun. One warning shot would scare them off.

Still... one gun versus a pack?

Something told me they'd scatter at the sound. But bravery always swelled in numbers. Just like with people. Just like with predators.

How big were the packs here?

The thought clawed at me as I turned up the music to drown it out. A soft, mellow tune filtered through the speakers, but my stomach stayed tight.

Then, the darkness outside flickered.

I didn't have time to register what it was-only a flash of something wide and fast on my right. Before I could fully turn, the car jerked violently. My head slammed sideways and fire shot through my neck. The vehicle swerved across the road, tires screeching as I fought to steady it.

Something had hit me.

Something big.

I tried to scream but couldn't. The car flew off the road, into the ditch-no, down a steep hill. Trees blurred past my windshield. I couldn't even brace myself.

Crash.

The impact came all at once. My body snapped forward, then sideways. My head hit the window and hot blood streamed down the side of my face. The seatbelt held, but the pain in my ribs told me I might've cracked something. I was falling. Sliding.

More glass shattered. Metal groaned and popped.

I'd been in wrecks before. I knew what it sounded like when a car folded in on itself. But this time felt... different.

Wrong.

My vision swam. A deep, thudding pain pulsed behind my eyes, and my limbs were heavy-too heavy. I knew the signs. A head wound. I was losing time.

Then, as the front of the car lit the forest before me, a shape moved through the beams of light.

No. Strode through them.

It was huge. Too big to be human. Broad shoulders. A long, gliding gait. As if it didn't care who saw it. As if it knew it didn't have to hide.

My breath caught in my throat. My body jerked, trying to react, to reach for my weapon or phone. But I couldn't move fast enough.

I needed help. I needed out.

My hand clawed for my purse. For my gun. But I felt nothing. Just air.

A terrible screech raked across the car's exterior-metal groaning under pressure. It sounded almost deliberate, like claws scraping down a chalkboard.

Closer. Slower. Drawing it out.

My vision dimmed again. My eyes fluttered. The pain in my skull drowned out everything else. I saw only trees. Then black.

A howl pierced the air-long, guttural, and angry. It echoed through the woods like a war cry.

Even with all that adrenaline surging in my blood, I couldn't stay awake.

And before I knew it, Darkness swallowed me.