June woke to unfamiliar voices.
She slipped out of bed and peered through the stone archway. Below, in the open courtyard, several wolf beastmen stood in formation. Their builds were powerful, ears sharp, eyes alert. Low voices carried authority and discipline.
At the center stood Alex.
He spoke briefly, issuing commands with calm dominance. The moment the beastmen noticed June standing above, the courtyard went silent.
Every head turned.
Shock rippled through them.
Their gazes lingered—on her human form, her soft features, her quiet presence in a place ruled by beasts.
"She's…" someone murmured.
"Human?"
"So fragile…"
Alex's expression darkened instantly.
He let out a low hum—warning, unmistakable.
"Eyes down," he commanded.
The beastmen obeyed at once.
Alex turned and walked toward June, his stride unhurried.
"Winter is coming," he said. "This forest will be buried in ice within days."
June nodded, listening.
"We're moving," Alex continued. "To the mountain caves. They're warmer, protected, and stocked. Along the way, we'll hunt enough to last the season."
He paused, watching her reaction.
June's eyes brightened.
Not at the mention of hunting.
But at the word moving.
Travel.
Chaos.
Opportunity.
"That sounds… necessary," she said carefully.
Inside, her heart raced.
A journey means distractions.
New paths.
Less control.
I can run!!
June turned away, pretending excitement. "I've never seen mountains before."
Alex watched her back.
He could read her thoughts as clearly as tracks in fresh snow.
But his face remained calm.
Fate doesn't break, he thought. It bends.
"You'll ride with me," he said evenly. "The journey is dangerous."
June stiffened—but nodded.
"Alright."
Alex turned back to his people, giving orders for departure.
As they traveled, June rode silently behind Alex, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
She observed everything.
There were very few females in the tribe.
And something about them felt… wrong.
They looked pale, tired, their movements slow and heavy. Even though they were wolf beastwomen—fully capable of shifting into their wolf forms—they were instead being carried on the backs of male beastmen.
They didn't protest.
They didn't speak much.
Some didn't even lift their heads.
June's brows knitted together.
Why aren't they running with the others?
Why do they look sick… or empty?
Her unease deepened.
Then—
She saw them.
Her breath hitched.
The little rascals.
The same puppies who had crawled into her bed, stolen her warmth, and dragged her straight into this nightmare of a world.
They were trotting confidently among the wolves—healthy, energetic, their eyes far too bright for ordinary cubs.
So this is where you came from, she thought bitterly.
Her gaze lingered.
Too long.
A female voice cut through the air.
"Why is she staring at my cubs so rudely?"
June looked up.
A wolf beastwoman with sharp eyes and silver-gray fur walked forward. Though she looked stronger than the others, her expression was openly hostile.
Alex slowed his pace.
"This is Susy," he said calmly.
Susy's eyes flicked over June—from head to toe—with clear disdain.
"She's human," Susy scoffed. "Why is a human here?"
June's lips pressed into a thin line.
Before Alex could speak, June did.
"Because your cubs ate at my house," she said evenly, meeting Susy's gaze, "and repaid me by dragging me into trouble."
A murmur rippled through the tribe.
Susy's eyes widened. "My cubs?"
June pointed toward the puppies. "Those little thieves."
The cubs froze.
Then—very slowly—hid behind Susy's legs.
Alex finally spoke, his voice firm.
"Enough."
He looked at June, something unreadable in his eyes.
"They are not ordinary cubs," he said. "They crossed worlds."
June's heart sank.
So it really wasn't an accident.
Susy crossed her arms. "If they crossed the gate, then she's the one who opened it."
Her tone sharpened.
"Which means," Susy said coldly, "she's responsible."
June clenched her fists.
"So I get blamed for feeding hungry puppies now?"
Silence fell.
Alex did not deny it.
Instead, he turned away and gave the signal to continue moving.
But June had learned something crucial.
The females were weak.
The cubs were special.
As dusk settled, Alex raised his hand.
The group halted.
"We camp here," he commanded.
The forest was already dimming, shadows stretching long between the trees. The air carried the bite of coming winter.
Everyone moved instantly—like a system long practiced.
June watched closely.
The males split into groups.
Some began clearing the ground and building the fire.
Others checked weapons, preparing for the night's hunt.
A third group melted silently into the trees, patrolling the perimeter.
Efficient. Silent. Obedient.
Then June noticed the females.
They were guided—not asked—to sit together at one side of the camp. No tasks were given to them. No weapons. No responsibilities.
They sat quietly.
Heads lowered. Hands folded.
Waiting.
June's chest tightened.
Why aren't they helping?
Why are they treated like burdens instead of members of the tribe?
She glanced at Alex.
He was overseeing everything, expression calm, unquestioning—as if this was simply the way things were meant to be.
A fire crackled to life.
The hunters prepared to leave.
The females remained seated.
One of them coughed weakly. Another leaned heavily against a tree, eyes dull.
June shifted uneasily.
"Is there anything I should do?" she asked, breaking the silence.
Several heads turned.
The question itself seemed… wrong.
Alex looked at her. "Stay here."
June frowned. "Why?"
His tone remained neutral. "It's safer."
"For whom?" she asked quietly.
No one answered.
As the hunters disappeared into the forest, June felt eyes on her.
Susy was watching her closely.
"So," Susy said at last, her voice low, "you don't like how things are done."
June met her gaze. "I don't understand them."
Susy snorted softly. "That's because you're human."
"Or," June replied calmly, "because no one explained."
Susy's expression shifted—just slightly.
Before she could respond, a distant howl echoed through the trees.
The patrol wolves answered in kind.
Night had fully fallen.
When the meat was distributed, the beasts ate it raw, tearing into it without hesitation.
June stared at her portion for a moment, then sighed.
She placed it near the fire and cooked it slowly, though without salt the taste disappointed her. She frowned, then noticed a small bundle of oranges among the gathered supplies.
Her eyes lit up.
Quietly, she took one and began trying to squeeze the juice over the meat.
Before she could manage properly, a hand reached out.
Alex took the orange from her.
She looked up, startled.
Without a word, he crushed it effortlessly, letting the juice drip over the meat. Then, following her movements closely, he helped her wrap the meat in thick leaves, coat it with mud, and place it beneath the hot embers.
Around them, the beasts watched.
Curious. Silent. Interested.
June, meanwhile, took some raw cabbage that had been gathered. Alex helped her break it into pieces with his hands.
Time passed.
Then—
A new aroma spread through the camp.
Rich. Warm. Unfamiliar.
Heads turned.
Noses flared.
When June carefully cracked open the hardened mud and leaves, steam rose into the night air.
She tasted it first.
Better.
Much better.
She then handed a piece to Alex—without thinking.
He accepted it directly from her hand.
June froze.
A faint blush rose to her cheeks.
Alex chewed slowly. Then nodded once.
"Good."
That single word was enough.
Others followed her method, clumsily at first, then eagerly. The camp filled with quiet satisfaction as the beasts ate—full, warm, and content.
Soon, the fire burned low.
Some stood watch.
Others slept.
Alex remained alert at the edge of the camp.
June curled up near the fire, exhaustion finally claiming her.
She woke to soft movement.
Startled, she sat up—only to see the camp already being packed.
The sky was still dark, but dawn hovered at the edge of the horizon.
She quickly joined in.
No breakfast.
No delay.
The tribe moved only at daytime, so they wasted no daylight on rest.
As they traveled, Alex handed June a few wild strawberries.
"They're sweet," he said.
She tasted them—and smiled despite herself.
Along the way, June spotted mushrooms, greens, and vegetables hidden among the forest floor. Riding on the back of another beastman, she pointed them out, and the group collected everything carefully.
By midday, their haul was bountiful.
The formation shifted.
Two teams hunted ahead.
Two teams escorted and protected the females.
Alex led the way through the densest parts of the forest.
They did not stop—not for lunch, not for rest.
Only brief pauses when needed.
And finally—
As the sun dipped low again, the forest opened.
Before them rose mountain caves, vast and ancient, carved deep into stone.
Their destination.
The tribe slowed.
June lifted her gaze, heart pounding.
She had survived the road.