Draven's POV
The dead rat stares at me with empty eyes.
I killed that deer three days ago. Dragged it back myself, proud of the hunt. Now this tiny human is telling me it's poison?
"You think I can't hunt?" I snap at Isla, knowing she can't understand but needing to say it anyway. "I've been feeding myself since I was a cub!"
Isla doesn't back down. She points at the rat's corpse, then at the rotten pile, then makes herself go stiff and fall over. Dead.
"She's serious," Theron says quietly. "Look at the rat, Draven. It died within seconds."
"Rats die all the time!" But even as I say it, doubt creeps in. The rat convulsed. Suffered. Like it was poisoned.
Like my sister did before she died.
"Maybe starvation AND poison together," Silas says, examining the rat. "That's how entire packs disappear."
The words hit like claws. My pack. My family. What if I poisoned them by feeding them rotting kills?
"Draven!" Caspian's sharp voice cuts through my thoughts. "The bear clan is at the entrance. Fight or run. NOW."
Isla grabs my arm. She points at the entrance, then the rotten meat, then at us. Her meaning is clear: we can't fight on poisoned stomachs.
"She's right," Theron says. "I've felt sick for days. We've been eating poison."
This human knows something we don't. She's not insulting my hunting—she's trying to save our lives.
My last pack died because I was too proud to admit I didn't know everything.
I won't make that mistake again.
"We keep her," I say firmly. "And we listen to her."
Caspian's beak drops open. "She's one human! Magnus brought forty warriors!"
"She spotted poison that would have killed us. What else can she teach us?"
"Teach? She's prey, Draven!"
"Maybe that's our problem," Theron says. "We think like hunters. Kill, eat, sleep. But she thinks differently."
Another roar from Magnus. "Last chance, exile! Give us the human!"
I crouch to Isla's level. I point at her, then at us, then make a protective circle. Together. Pack.
Her eyes fill with tears, but she nods.
"Then we fight," I announce. "Caspian, high ground. Silas, shadow attacks. Theron, protect Isla. I'll take Magnus."
"This is suicide," Caspian mutters.
Magnus's shadow fills the entrance. "Time's up, exile."
I shift to battle form. My eyes glow blue. Power floods through me.
"Then come and take her," I snarl.
The bear clan charges.
We meet them in a clash of fur and fangs. Blood sprays. Caspian dives from above. Silas strikes from shadows. Theron becomes a whirlwind of striped death.
And I fight Magnus.
We're evenly matched. He cracks my ribs. I tear his shoulder. We're killing each other.
Then I hear Isla scream.
A bear warrior has her by the throat, lifting her off the ground. She's kicking, clawing, but she might as well be fighting a mountain.
"No!" The word rips from my throat.
Everything goes blue.
Not just my eyes. My entire body blazes with azure light. Power explodes through me—ancient, terrifying, MINE. The cave trembles.
And I MOVE.
One moment I'm facing Magnus. The next, my jaws are locked around the warrior's throat.
The warrior drops Isla and collapses.
But the blue light won't stop. It's building, filling the cave. My pack stumbles back. Even Magnus retreats, fear on his scarred face.
"What ARE you?" Magnus breathes.
The blue light pulses once, twice—then EXPLODES outward. Every bear warrior flies out of the cave, tumbling down the mountainside.
Silence falls.
The light fades. I collapse, gasping. Everything hurts.
Isla crawls over, her throat bruised. She touches my face gently. She's not afraid of me. Even after watching me glow like a demon.
She's grateful.
"Thank you," she whispers.
Then her eyes roll back, and she collapses on top of me, unconscious.
"Isla!" Theron checks her pulse. "She's alive. Just passed out."
"Draven?" Silas slithers closer. "What was that blue light? That wasn't normal alpha power."
I don't have answers. All I know is that twice now—both times when Isla was in danger—this power awakened.
Caspian lands beside us, wings trembling. "The bears are retreating. But they're going to tell everyone what they saw. Every clan will hear about the exile who glows blue."
"Let them talk," I mutter.
"You don't understand." Caspian's voice drops. "That kind of power... there are legends. Old stories about chosen ones who could channel ancient magic. But they're just myths."
Theron's eyes widen. "Unless they're not myths."
A howl echoes in the distance. Then another. Different from before—these aren't warnings.
They're summoning calls.
"What does that mean?" I ask.
Silas's face is grim. "Word is spreading. By dawn, every pack within a hundred miles will know."
"So?"
"So they won't come to kill you anymore," Silas says slowly. "They'll come to capture you. To study what you are. To use your power."
My blood runs cold. "How long?"
"Until dawn," Theron says, looking at the cave entrance where morning light appears. "Maybe less."
I look at Isla's unconscious form in my arms. This human stumbled into our lives two days ago. Already she's changed everything. Shown us our food is poison.
And awakened something inside me that might doom us all.
"Then we run," I decide. "Pack everything. Leave the rotten meat. We go south and figure out what Isla knows about surviving winter."
"And the power?" Caspian asks.
I don't have an answer. But as I hold Isla, feeling her heartbeat, I realize something terrifying.
This power is connected to her.
It only appears when she's threatened.
Which means every enemy won't be coming for me.
They'll be coming for the human female who turned an exiled failure into a legendary myth.
And we have maybe three hours before they all arrive.