I feel you before I ever see you. It happens in the quiet. Not the kind that comes with peace… the kind that settles before something changes. A shift that presses against instinct until it sharpens, until it demands attention.

The forest goes still. No wind through the trees. No distant movement of prey. Even the usual tension at the edges of my territory falls silent. Too quiet. The kind that warns.

I stand at the edge of camp, just beyond the firelight, where shadows run deeper and the world forgets to look. My cloak hangs heavy across my shoulders, damp with cold, the scent of smoke clinging to it from dying embers behind me. Then—it hits. Not a scent or a sound but a pull.

Sharp enough to stall my breath. Subtle enough most would miss it. I don’t. My head tilts, gaze shifting into the dark like I can see through it, like whatever reached for me might be standing there waiting. There’s nothing. Just trees and the night.

But the feeling doesn’t fade, instead it lingers and settles. It curls beneath my ribs like something that has been searching… and finally finds what it wants. So I ignore it. For a while.

I survive by not chasing every instinct that claws its way forward. Out here, the difference between hunter and hunted is knowing when to move… and when to wait. So I wait, and it follows.

Through patrols that stretch into dawn. Through quiet hours when the pack sleeps and I don’t. Through every breath, every step, every moment of stillness. You are there. Not physically..not yet.

But close enough that my wolf paces beneath my skin, restless, teeth bared at something it cannot reach. The night it changes, I sit by the fire… or what remains of it.

Embers glow low, casting flickering light across the clearing. My pack is scattered, half-shadowed, some resting, others watching. No one speaks. They rarely do when I am like this. They feel it. Not what I feel… but enough. The tension. The shift.

I lean forward, forearms on my knees, gaze fixed on the coals. Then—it snaps into place. Not louder or stronger but clearer. My breath slows. My wolf surges, locking on with a certainty that leaves no room for doubt.

You.

I don’t know your name. Your face. I don’t need to. The pull anchors deep, threading through me like it has always been there… waiting to be known.

Mine.

The word comes before I can stop it. Before I decide what to do with it. A breath leaves me, sharp at the edges. Then I smile.

Across the fire, someone shifts. Then another. They feel it. Not the bond. Me. I rise, unhurried, deliberate. Every eye follows. Silence falls without being asked.

“My best,” I say, voice cutting clean through the clearing. “You’re going on a hunt.” They straighten. Not eager but focused.

My gaze moves over them, choosing. They know the moment I linger. “You will find the one my wolf calls to,” I continue, steady, controlled. “You will bring them back to me.”

I step forward, firelight catching just enough of my face. “They arrive unharmed,” I add, quieter now. Sharper. “No marks. No bruises.” A pause stretches thin. “No fear you don’t intend to answer for.”

I tilt my head slightly. “If my mate comes back broken…” My voice softens, almost thoughtful. “…you won’t be coming back at all.” They move immediately, disappearing into shadow. The only ones I trust with something like this. With you.

A new moon rises soon. I give you until then. Time to understand what you’ve been pulled into. Time to fight it… if you think you can. Time to realize none of it changes what has already been decided. You can come to me willingly… or you can fight. And if you do I will wait… until there is nothing left in you that doesn’t answer when I call.