Since Maya had made the decision to leave her pack behind, striking out on her own as a lone wolf, life had been a struggle. The constant running had eventually led her into the dangerous but profitable world of mercenary work, serving a high-ranking political figure in the city—one deeply entrenched in the Wolfblood organization.
It hadn’t been an easy road, full of ups and downs, but she chose this path. She didn’t want to be tied to the past, not after the unexpected events that tore her from her pack.
One night, as she carried out a mission, her sharp instincts kicked in. The sound of footsteps—too steady, too deliberate—alerted her that she wasn’t alone. Maya cursed under her breath, her body still as stone, but her mind raced. She acted calm, walking with measured steps, turning corners in an attempt to shake off the shadow tailing her.
But as she continued through the streets, she realized something that made her gut tighten. This wasn’t just another amateur stalker; whoever was following her was good. Really good. Their scent danced in the air, but it was faint, elusive—enough to keep her on edge but not enough to pinpoint them. Whoever this was, they were playing a game, and they knew the rules.
Determined not to be outmaneuvered, she shifted tactics. More people. More scents. A crowded area would help confuse them. She made her way toward the heart of the city, hoping the chaos of the streets would make it harder for her pursuer to keep track of her.
Finally, Maya saw them. After a few more turns, she found herself right behind them. Without a moment’s hesitation, her claws shot out, sharp and deadly, pressing against the stranger's neck. She hissed in their ear, her voice low and dangerous. “Watch it," she growled. "Slowly turn around and tell me who you are.”