Michelle woke to pain, thankfully it was not the sharp, screaming agony of yesterday, but a deep, pervasive ache that radiated from her knee through her entire body. Her ribs protested with every breath. Her shoulders felt like she'd been carrying boulders which, technically, she had been dropping them, anyway.
She opened her eyes to find herself in Elder Mira's dwelling, morning light filtering through the windows in soft violet-tinged beams. The fire had burned down to embers, and Mira herself was nowhere to be seen.
Michelle pushed herself up carefully, testing her knee. Still swollen, but the poultice Mira had applied last night had done its work the angry red had faded to a dull purple-blue. She tried to bend it without wanting to scream so she can walk up to bathroom on her own.
Since she had woken too early Alpha Riven's dwelling was quiet except for the crackling of dying embers and the distant sounds of his settlement waking up—voices calling to each other, the thud of axes on wood, and morning due on petal leaves. Everything has a comforting sounds, if she ignored the fact that a few pups wailing probably with their tails or fangs gagged.
Her stomach growled, reminding her that one protein bar and some mystery meat over a fire wasn't exactly a sustainable diet.
The door opened, and Mira bustled in carrying a basket. "Awake! Good. I was beginning to think you'd sleep until noon." She set the basket on the table as Michelle caught the smell of bread and something savoury from it. "How's the knee?"
"Better. Still hurts, but I can move it." Michelle swung her legs off the bed, now testing her tolerance. "What time is it?"
"Mid-dawn. You slept through entire night and didn't wake up for dinner, so I brought you something from the communal fire." Mira unpacked the basket—fresh bread, some kind of stew in a wooden bowl, and what looked like berries. "Eat. You need strength for recovery."
"Communal fire? What's today?" Michelle asked, suddenly interested.
"It's a daily night ritual. If you wish then tonight, you able to walk around Silverwood without collapsing. You're welcome!" Mira handed her the bowl. "But first, food. Can't heal without fuel."
The stew was surprisingly good—some kind of plants that Michelle couldn't identify too closely, root vegetables, and herbs that made the whole thing taste earthy and rich. She ate mechanically, her mind already racing ahead to the problem of what came next.
A week of healing, Mira had said. Maybe two. And then what? Where would she go? What would she do? She couldn't stay in Mira's dwelling forever, couldn't live off the charity of a settlement that had no reason to help her beyond basic hospitality.
She needed a plan. Or at least the beginning of one.
"Mira," Michelle said between bites. "What do humans usually do here? The ones who fall through rifts and survive?"
Mira settled into her rocking chair, her expression thoughtful. "Depends on the human. Most don't survive—Feral Lands are unforgiving to those who don't understand them. The ones who do survive usually find a settlement, offer skills in exchange for protection. Some become craftspeople, if they have useful knowledge. Others become servants or labourers. A few..." She paused. "A few get claimed by beast-kin as mates." Michelle listen it was somewhat exactly what Kael had told her about human future in Feral Lands. And he had also mentioned...
"Claimed?" Michelle repeated, the word sour in her mouth. She had ignored previously perhaps because of pain or exhaustion but now it felt threatening in certain ways."Like property."
Mira sighed in resignation. Though she did not wish for this to happen in Michelle's fate but she also knew it wasn't a far fetched truth. Michelle will get claimed one day. "I know it sounds barbaric by whatever standards you're used to, but here, being claimed mostly means being protected. Fed, sheltered, defended. For a human with no clan, no family, no way to defend themselves... it's often the safest option."
"Safest for who?" Michelle set down her bowl, her appetite suddenly gone. "Because from where I'm sitting, it sounds like losing every shred of autonomy in exchange for not being murdered."
"Honestly, you're not wrong," Mira admitted. "But autonomy doesn't mean much when you're soon to be dead. And make no mistake, child—unclaimed females don't last long out there. Someone will try to take you, by force if necessary. This world isn't kind to the weak and let a lone female. They feast on them."
Michelle's jaw tightened. She'd spent her entire academic career fighting to be taken seriously, to prove she was more than just a hire, sometimes had to demonstrate that her ideas had merit beyond her gender. And now she was supposed to just... accept? Accept that here, being female meant being property?
"There has to be another option," she questioned.
"There is." Mira's expression was carefully neutral. "But you won't like it."
Before Michelle could press for details, the door opened again. A young wolf-kin stepped inside silver-white fur, ice-blue eyes, and the kind of nervous energy that suggested he was trying very hard to make a good impression.
"Elder Mira, Lady Michelle, greeting!" He bowed respectfully. "I'm Beta Rome, Alpha Riven's second-in-command. I hope I'm not interrupting."
"Not at all, Rome" Mira said. "Michelle was just finishing breakfast."
Rome held out a bundle wrapped in soft leather. "Your clothing was damaged during your journey. Alpha Riven thought you might need something more practical."
Michelle looked down at her hiking clothes that are torn, stained, barely holding together. "That's thoughtful of Alpha. Mine do look like they fought a wood chipper and lost."
Rome's expression flickered with confusion clearly "wood chipper" didn't translate for him but he recovered quickly. "If it doesn't bother you, these belonged to my sister, Runa. I didn't get the chance to visit markets so I thought meanwhile you can use them. And don't worry of upsetting my sister, she passed three years ago. She was about your size, and she would have wanted her things used rather than gathering dust."
Something in Michelle's chest tightened and then twisted sharply. It always does for anyone with lost family members. This wasn't just mere help—this was weighted with grief.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "I'm honoured. And I'm sorry about your sister."
Rome's smile was small but genuine. "She would have liked you. She was always asking questions, driving the elders crazy like you were doing before my interruption."
"Is that a polite way of saying I'm annoying?"
"No...Lady! I didn't mean that way..." I thought it was cute. Rome straightened his shoulders, and Michelle recognised the shift but then he switched to relying something important. "Which is actually why I'm here. Alpha Riven asked me to extend a formal offer. "Rome's enthusiasm dimmed. "For- The Mate Hunt."
The words hung in the air like a threat.
"Can you explain, please?" Michelle probed carefully.
Rome looked to Mira, who nodded. So he took a deep breath.
"When a female becomes eligible for Claiming. Males who wish to court her participate in a Mate Hunt—a competition where they prove their worth. It's tradition."
"What kind of competition?"
"Combat trials. Hunting challenges. Tests of strength and skill." Rome's discomfort was obvious. "The males compete against each other, and the winner earns the right to present his Claim."
Michelle felt cold spreading through her chest. "They fight each other."
"Yes."
"How seriously?"
Rome's expression was pained. "Injuries are common. Deaths are rare, but they happen."
The words hit Michelle like a physical blow. Males would fight potentially kill each other for the right to court her. Like she was a prize to be won, not a person to be known.
"No," she said immediately. "Absolutely not."
"Lady Michelle—"
"I'm not watching people kill each other over me!" Michelle pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the protest from her knee. "That's barbaric. That's—it's treating people like they're disposable, like their lives matter less than some ancient tradition about proving worth through violence!"
"It's not about disposability," Rome said, his voice strained. "It's about honour. About males showing they're strong enough to protect—"
"I don't need protection through violence!" Michelle's voice rose. "I need—" She stopped, realizing she was shaking. "I need to not be responsible for people dying. I've been here three days. I can't already have blood on my hands because some males decided my existence was worth killing over."
Mira stood, moving to Michelle's side. "Child, breathe. No one's asking you to decide right now."
"Good, because my decision is no..forever." Michelle turned to Rome. "Tell Alpha Riven thank you for the offer, but I'm not interested in any role that requires a death match as a prerequisite."
Rome looked genuinely distressed. "Lady Michelle, you don't understand. Without formal status, you're vulnerable. Males from other territories will come looking once word spreads. Some will try to take you by force—"
"So I must follow a system that encourages violence," Michelle finished. "I understand perfectly.Besides..I don't want a mate!" The words burst out of Michelle before she could even stop them. "I don't want to be claimed or protected or sheltered like I'm some fragile thing that can't take care of myself! I want—" Like an orphan she used to be...Her voice cracked. "I want to go home. I want my life back. I want to not be standing in an inter-dimensional death world having a conversation about which male gets to own me!"
Silence fell over the dwelling.
Rome looked stricken. Mira's expression was sympathetic but firm. And Michelle felt tears burning behind her eyes—tears of frustration and fear and the overwhelming impossibility of her situation.
"I'm sorry," Rome said finally. "I didn't mean to upset you. Alpha Riven wanted you to have options, not feel cornered."
Michelle took a shaky breath, forcing herself back under control. "I know. And I appreciate it. I just... I need time. To think. To figure out what I will be doing here."
"Of course." Rome bowed again. "I'll inform Alpha Riven. And Lady Michelle? For what it's worth... my sister would have said the same thing. About not wanting blood on her hands. She had a fierce heart but hated unnecessary violence." He paused at the door. "If you need anything, ask for Beta Rome. Any pack member can find me."
He left, closing the door gently.
Michelle sank back onto the bed, her leg trembling from the brief exertion. Mira handed her a cup of water without comment.
"I handled that badly," Michelle said after a long moment.
"You handled it honestly," Mira corrected.
"But now I've probably insulted their traditions and made myself look like an ungrateful human who doesn't understand how things work here."
"You've made yourself look like someone with principles who won't compromise them for convenience." Mira settled back into her chair. "That's rare here, Michelle. Most people—beast-kin or human—will bend themselves into pretzels to survive. You're drawing lines. That takes courage."
"Or stupidity."
"Often the same thing."
Michelle laughed despite herself, though it came out watery. She wiped at her eyes angrily. "I'm not usually a crier."
But then Mira pointed out. "I'd say tears are an appropriate response."
They sat in silence for a moment. Outside, the settlement continued its morning routine—oblivious to Michelle's crisis, indifferent to her struggle.
"For now," Mira said, standing and offering her hand. "Let's get you dressed in proper clothes and teach you to walk around this settlement without falling over. Small steps, alright?" Michelle agreed, taking her hand.
The clothes Rome had brought fit surprisingly well. The tunic was soft wool dyed forest green, the leather pants were flexible but sturdy, and the boots were fur-lined and warm. Michelle caught sight of herself in Mira's small polished-metal mirror and barely recognized the woman staring back.
The Earth-Michelle who'd gone hiking in Colorado was gone. This Michelle looked harder. More worn. But also more present, somehow.
"Come on," Mira said, opening the door. "Time to see Silverwood properly. And before you protest—yes, your knee can handle a short walk. Movement helps healing, as long as you don't overdo it." Michelle limped after her into the almost noon light.
Silverwood during the day was different from her brief glimpse last night. The settlement sprawled between massive trees, platforms and walkways connecting different levels like a three-dimensional maze. Beast-kin moved with easy confidence—wolf-kin hauling lumber, fox-kin tending to what looked like a communal garden, bear-kin working at a forge that glowed orange-red. And all of them stopped to stare when Michelle emerged.
"Ignore them," Mira said quietly. "They're curious, not threatening. Most of them have never seen a human before."
Michelle forced herself to keep walking, to not shrink under the weight of dozens of eyes tracking her every movement. A group of children—wolf-kin pups, maybe five or six years old—were playing near one of the fires. When they spotted Michelle, they froze mid-game, staring with wide eyes.
One of the pups, braver than the others, crept closer. "Look our alien? Are you really from Earth?" she asked, her voice high and awed.
"Am I? I am," Michelle answered with shock tone and felt oddly insulted, crouching down carefully on her unharmed knee. "Have you heard of Earth?"
"Elder Mira tells stories sometimes," the pup said. "About a world with no magic and sky-scrapers that touch the clouds and boxes that show moving pictures."
"Skyscrapers and televisions," Michelle corrected gently. "Yeah, we have those."
"Is it true you came through a rift?" another pup asked, emboldened by her gentle response to his friend. "Did it hurt?"
"It hurt a lot," Michelle admitted. "I landed badly and hurt my knee. But Elder Mira fixed me up."
"Elder Mira fixes everyone," the first pup said with complete confidence. "She's the best healer in all of woods."
"I believe it," Michelle said, glancing at Mira, who looked both pleased and embarrassed.
"Alright, pups, that's enough interrogating our guest," Mira said firmly. "Go play. And stay away from the forge. I don't want to treat any more burned fingers today."
The pups scattered, giggling, but Michelle noticed they kept glancing back at her with fascination.
"They're sweet," Michelle said as they continued walking.
"And always curious, devils. Now they'll tell everyone in the settlement that the human is nice and talked to them like themselves." Mira's tone was approving.
They walked slowly through the settlement, Mira pointing out key locations: the communal fires where meals were prepared and shared, the forge where weapons and tools were made, the tanning racks where hides were processed. Everything was communal, shared, interconnected. No one seemed to own anything individually as it was all pack resources, distributed as needed.
"How does that work?" Michelle asked, her engineer brain immediately curious. "Resource distribution without some kind of tracking system? Who decides who gets what?"
"The Alpha and his team," Mira explained. "They assess needs, allocate resources. It's not always perfect as there are disputes, arguments about fairness. But overall, it works. Everyone contributes what they can, receives what they need."
"Sounds like communism," Michelle muttered.
"I don't know that word."
"A type of economic system from Earth. Supposed to be about sharing resources equally, but it usually ends up with power consolidating at the top and everyone else struggling."
Mira's expression was thoughtful. "That's... not entirely inaccurate here. The Alpha has significant power. But Riven is fair, as Alphas go. He listens to his council, considers different perspectives. Some Alphas are tyrants. He's not."
They were passing what looked like a training ground—a cleared area where beast-kin were sparring, practicing with weapons, testing strength against strength. Michelle watched two wolf-kin grappling, their movements fast and brutal, and winced when one slammed the other into the ground hard enough to rattle her teeth from twenty feet away.
"They're training for the Hunt," a voice said behind her.
Michelle turned to find a fox-kin woman—the same one who'd laughed yesterday when Michelle had told off Kael and Riven. She had flame-red hair, multiple tails, and an expression of amused curiosity.
"The Mate Hunt?" Michelle asked, her stomach sinking.
"The very same." The fox-kin's smile was sharp. "Word travels fast in Silverwood. Beta Rome offered you entry, you refused because of the Hunt. Very noble and Very stupid."
"Cara," Mira said warningly.
"What? I'm just saying what everyone's thinking." Cara circled Michelle like she was evaluating prey. "You're human, you're female, and you're of age. That makes you valuable. Refusing formal status means you're fair game for anyone strong enough to take you."
"I'm under settlement law," Michelle tried to remind the lady, though her confidence wavered.
"Settlement law extends to Silverwood's borders," Cara countered. "What happens when you leave? When you try to travel somewhere else? You think every male is going to respect and give our Alpha Riven's like protection and respect?" She laughed, bright and cruel. "You'll be claimed within a day. Maybe an hour."
Michelle's hands clenched into fists.
"Unless you hide forever? Living off charity, dependent on others' goodwill?" Cara's tails swished.
Michelle wanted to argue, but she couldn't deny the logic.
"Cara, you're not helping," Mira said firmly.
"I'm giving her information," Cara countered. "Which is more helpful than letting her make decisions based on incomplete understanding." She looked at Michelle. With that, she sauntered away, her tails swishing behind her like flags.
Michelle stood frozen though her knee was throbbing, her head was pounding, and she felt like she was drowning in a world with impossible complications.
"Can we go back?" she asked, her voice low. "I think I've had enough of Silverwood for today."
"Of course," Mira's hand was gentle on her arm. They made their way back slowly, Michelle acutely aware of eyes tracking her every movement. The human. The anomaly. The female without a claim.
Back in Mira's dwelling, Michelle collapsed onto the bed, exhausted beyond measure, and her mind wouldn't stop spinning.
Mira brought her tea without being asked. "Rest, now!"
Michelle drank the tea some kind of calming blend that made her eyelids heavy almost immediately. As she drifted toward sleep, her last coherent thought was of those males in the training ground, fighting with brutal efficiency.
Fighting for the right to claim. Fighting, potentially, for their future. And somewhere in the back of her exhausted, overwhelmed mind, a small voice whispered: What if you learned to fight back for your future?