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Chapter 3 – The Alpha's Fang
Sara crouched behind a jagged boulder, chest heaving. Her once-perfect clubbing dress was now torn, muddy, and clinging in all the wrong places. Her fox tail twitched irritably behind her, betraying every ounce of fear she was trying to hide.
The forest was too quiet. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
This is bad. Very, very bad.
The wolf pack hadn't chased her for fun. They had been herding her here—toward the clearing ahead, where the stench of blood and raw mana practically made her eyes water. Her left eye throbbed, glowing faintly, tugging at something in the distance.
And then she heard it.
A low growl. Deep. Commanding. The kind of sound that didn't ask for silence—it demanded it.
The trees parted, and out of the shadows padded a wolf twice the size of the others, its fur blacker than midnight, its eyes burning with eerie green light. Its fangs dripped with saliva that sizzled where it fell, eating into the soil like acid.
"...Of course," Sara muttered, tossing her messy hair back. "Why settle for basic wolves when you can have the extra-large, demon-infused, 'I'm definitely going to ruin your day' version?"
The Alpha bared its teeth, and as if on cue, the lesser wolves circled her, closing off her only escape route.
Sara's heart raced, but she forced a grin. "Alright, you oversized mutt. Let's play fetch."
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The Alpha lunged.
Its shadow loomed over her, claws outstretched, and for a split second Sara wondered if this was how she was going to die—again. But her instincts kicked in. She focused her projection ability, snapping her fingers. A glowing spear of energy shimmered into existence in her hands.
She braced and thrust.
The spear met the Alpha's jaw with a clang, bending as though she'd jabbed it into steel. The weapon shattered instantly, flickering out like smoke.
Sara stumbled back, cursing. "Right. Note to self: imagination isn't a substitute for blacksmithing!"
The Alpha's paw swung wide. She ducked, barely, the claws carving deep furrows into the earth where her head had been. Dirt sprayed everywhere. The circle of wolves snarled, pressing closer.
Her left eye burned hotter, and suddenly, images flooded her mind. A memory that wasn't hers. A hunter—no, dozens of hunters—training, clashing with wolves, thrusting spears into their necks, twisting, dodging. The techniques played like a vivid film reel across her vision.
Sara blinked. "So that's what this thing does, huh?"
The Alpha pounced again. This time she moved different—fluid, precise, copying the movement she had just seen. Her projected spear reformed, sharper this time, and she ducked under the beast's swipe, thrusting it straight into the soft tissue beneath its chin.
The weapon flared. The Alpha howled in rage, staggering back as black blood hissed against the dirt.
The surrounding wolves froze, uncertain.
Sara's lips curled into a wild grin. "Oh, I like this cheat."
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The fight turned chaotic.
The Alpha roared, its howl shaking leaves from the branches. The lesser wolves dove in at its command, their bodies a blur of fur and fangs. Sara spun, her spear dissolving and reforming in rapid bursts—sometimes a blade, sometimes a chain, sometimes even a crude frying pan she swung in pure desperation.
"Don't judge me!" she shouted at no one in particular, cracking a wolf across the jaw with the skillet.
Still, the pressure mounted. Each block rattled her bones. Sweat drenched her skin, her lungs screamed for air, and the glowing eye threatened to overload her brain with every copied motion.
The Alpha saw its chance. It lunged, faster than before, jaws gaping wide enough to swallow her whole.
Sara froze. For one terrifying instant, she knew she was too slow.
Not like this… not again…
A flash of steel split the air.
"Fall back!" a rough voice barked.
An arrow whistled past her cheek and buried itself deep in the Alpha's eye. The beast shrieked, thrashing wildly. Sara stumbled back, half in shock, half in relief.
From the treeline, figures emerged—hunters clad in leather and steel, armed with bows, spears, and grim determination.
The Alpha thrashed, blood pouring from its ruined eye, but it did not retreat. It glared at the newcomers, then at Sara, as though vowing to remember her. With a guttural snarl, it finally turned and melted into the shadows, the surviving wolves following.
Silence crashed over the clearing.
Sara collapsed onto her butt, chest heaving, dirt and blood smeared across her body. "...Okay," she gasped, raising one shaky hand. "Vote to never do that again?"
The hunters didn't laugh.
The man who had fired the arrow stepped forward, eyes hard. "What in the Abyss are you supposed to be?"
Sara gave him her brightest, most sarcastic smile, tail swishing lazily behind her. "Oh, you know. Just your average, totally normal, super-harmless fox girl. Nice to meet you."
His hand tightened on his bowstring. "Fox… girl?" His tone dripped with suspicion.
The other hunters exchanged uneasy glances. One spat on the ground. "A Vexin," he muttered. "Damn beastkin."
Sara blinked, her grin faltering. "...Wait. Beast-what now?"
The leader's eyes narrowed. His bow never lowered.
"Bind her," he ordered coldly. "Before she calls the rest of her kind."
Sara's jaw dropped. "Wait, WHAT? I literally just saved your lives!"
But ropes were already being drawn.
The chapter closed with Sara glaring as they approached, sarcasm bubbling up even through her frustration.
"Oh sure," she muttered under her breath. "Kill the giant demon wolf? Suspicious. Get tied up by handsome strangers in the woods? Totally logical. Gods, I hate this world already."
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