Her eyes fluttered open. The world spun for a moment, her head pounding as if someone had struck her. She groaned softly, pressing her palm against her forehead, trying to ease the pain. Slowly, she sat up. The ground beneath her was damp with fallen leaves, clinging cold against her skin. A cool wind brushed across her face, carrying the scent of pine and earth.

Snow blinked, confusion tightening her chest. She wasn’t in the arena anymore.

Instead, she was surrounded by towering trees, their branches weaving together like a dark ceiling above her. Shadows shifted across the forest floor. A mist hung low, curling around her feet, thick enough to swallow the ground.

Where… am I?

She pushed herself up, trembling slightly. Her gaze darted between the trees, desperate for something familiar — a path, a sign, people. Anything. But there was nothing. Only the endless stretch of woods, silent and unwelcoming.

How did I get here?

Her last memory clung to her like smoke. The competition. She had been so close, so determined to prove herself. Then darkness, a crushing weight, and now… this.

She squeezed her eyes shut, clinging to the hope that it was only a dream. If I open my eyes again, I’ll be back in the arena. I’ll be standing where I was. This is just an illusion.

Her heart pounded as she forced her eyes open.

But the forest didn’t vanish.

She was still there.

The realization struck hard, and her knees weakened. Panic threatened to consume her.

Before she could think of what to do next, a voice echoed through the trees.

“I do not think she’s ready.”

Snow froze.

Her breath caught in her throat. The voice was deep, steady, and strange — like it was both near and far at the same time, vibrating in her bones.

Then another voice followed, sharper, impatient.

“She doesn’t even speak, and you think she can save us?”

Snow’s lips parted, but no sound came. Fear pressed against her chest, thick and suffocating. She wanted to run, to scream, but something inside urged her forward instead.

One step. Then another.

The voices pulled her deeper into the woods.

Her bare feet crunched softly against the leaves, her pulse echoing in her ears. Step by step, the mist thickened, swirling like it had a mind of its own, guiding her.

Finally, a hush fell. The silence was heavier than the voices.

“Shhh,” a third voice whispered. This one was gentler, softer, like a command given with care.

“I can sense her.”

Snow’s heart stopped.

The next instant, the mist cleared as if swept away by an unseen hand. And before her appeared four white werewolves.

They were massive, their fur glowing faintly in the pale light, ethereal as though they were carved from the moon itself. Their eyes burned bright — golden, silver, and ice blue — each pair fixed on her like a hunter spotting prey.

She staggered back, terror gripping her limbs. No. No, this can’t be real.

One of them tilted her head, ears flicking. “Where is she?”

“She’s right in front of us,” another growled lowly, eyes narrowing.

“I can’t see her…”

Snow trembled. Her hands curled into fists. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

They’re looking at me.

The wolves circled slowly, their massive paws silent on the forest floor. Their voices carried a weight that pressed against her chest.

“She is human,” one whispered, disbelief lacing every word.

“Impossible,” another snapped back. “Humans can’t cross the veil.”

Snow’s mouth went dry. The fear in their eyes wasn’t the kind she expected. They weren’t looking at her like prey. They were looking at her like something unnatural, something that shouldn’t exist.

Her mind spun. What am I doing here?

Finally, one of them stepped forward. Her movement was fluid, graceful, her tail swaying with calm authority. Her eyes glowed gold, sharp yet strangely gentle. When she spoke, her voice was smooth, confident.

“We summoned you,” she said.

Snow’s heart skipped. Her thoughts crashed into one another. Summoned me?

Her lips moved, but no sound escaped. Instead, her voice screamed inside her mind. Why?

The wolf tilted her head, studying her closely. “And you cannot speak,” she observed, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. “Interesting.”

Another wolf smirked, showing sharp fangs. “At least she passed the first test,” she murmured.

Snow’s chest tightened. Test?

Her panic spilled over into desperate thoughts. Why have you summoned me? I don’t belong here. I was in a competition. I need to return. Please… I want to go home.

The leading wolf circled her slowly, her golden eyes glinting as she studied every inch of her. “That isn’t your home, darling,” she said at last, her tone layered with certainty. She gestured with her head toward the endless forest. “This… this is where you belong.”

Snow shook her head violently. No. No, no. This is wrong. This is not where I belong.

“Why can’t she speak?” another wolf muttered, frustration dripping from her tone.

Snow swallowed hard. Her throat ached with words that refused to form. I must return home. My life depends on just one last question.

The leader’s golden eyes narrowed, cutting into her. “What is so important? What weighs more than your mission to us? To your pack?”

Snow’s body went rigid.

Pack?

Her mind blanked.

The word echoed again and again, crashing through her like thunder.

Pack.

Her chest heaved, her pulse racing, but another voice rose in the silence. The wolf with icy blue eyes stepped closer, gaze piercing.

“If she does not know her pack, then she is truly lost,” the wolf said, her voice low and grim. “But the bond will awaken her soon enough.”

Snow staggered back, shaking her head. No. I’m not part of a pack. I’m not one of you. I’m not—

But the wolves’ gazes only grew more intense, as if they could see something inside her she herself could not.

“She does not remember,” the golden-eyed leader said finally. “But she will. The bond never lies.”

Snow’s heart pounded so hard she thought it might break her chest.

What bond?

What truth were they seeing that she could not?

The forest closed in, the mist curling tighter around her legs. And for the first time, Snow felt it — faint, almost hidden — a tug deep in her chest, pulling her toward them.

Her knees buckled.

“No,” she whispered in her mind, even as the pull grew stronger.

But the wolves only watched, their glowing eyes unwavering.

“She belongs to us,” the leader murmured. “Whether she accepts it or not.”