The forest did not usually whisper Tyler Ashborne's name.
Today, it did.
It slid between the trees like a breath held too long, brushing against bark and shadow, curling into his ears with a familiarity that unsettled him. Tyler paused mid-step, boot hovering above damp soil, his instincts flaring before his thoughts could catch up.
Someone was watching.
He inhaled slowly.
Pine. Earth. Old rain.
And something else.
Something unfamiliar.
Tyler lowered his foot carefully and continued walking, refusing to give the forest the satisfaction of seeing him hesitate. As the future Alpha of the Dawnclaw Tribe, fear was a luxury he had been trained out of since childhood. Still, his shoulders remained tense, every nerve alert, senses reaching outward like invisible threads.
The path ahead narrowed, trees pressing closer as if conspiring. Dawnclaw territory lay behind him now, safe, orderly, predictable. Ahead was the disputed stretch of land no one officially claimed but everyone silently guarded.
The border without a line.
Tyler had crossed it without realizing.
"That's a terrible way to walk into a political incident," a voice said mildly.
Tyler stopped.
Slowly, he turned.
A boy leaned against a tree trunk a few paces away, arms crossed, posture loose and infuriatingly relaxed. He looked about Tyler's age, late teens, maybe a year older, with dark hair tied back messily and eyes that glinted with quiet amusement.
He didn't look hostile.
That somehow made him more dangerous.
"I didn't realize this land was owned," Tyler said evenly.
The boy hummed. "It's not. That's what makes it fun."
Tyler studied him. No visible weapons. No aggressive stance. But the scent, yes, that unfamiliar scent, was unmistakable now.
Nightmere.
"You're Dawnclaw," the boy continued, gaze flicking briefly to Tyler's insignia. "And judging by how confidently lost you are, you must be important."
Tyler sighed. "I was just thinking."
"Ah." The boy's lips twitched. "That explains it."
Tyler raised an eyebrow. "Explains what?"
"Why you walked straight into enemy territory while staring at the ground."
"We're not enemies," Tyler said automatically.
The boy laughed, not loudly, but genuinely, like Tyler had told a joke without meaning to.
"Sure," he said. "And storms don't flood villages. They just pass through."
Tyler should have left.
Every lesson drilled into him said so. Nightmere wolves were clever, unpredictable, loyal only to their own. Friendly conversations had a way of turning into leverage.
Instead, he asked, "What's your name?"
The boy looked surprised. Just for a moment.
"Greece," he said. "Yours?"
"Tyler."
Recognition dawned instantly.
"Oh," Greece said softly. "That Tyler."
Tyler groaned. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that."
Greece grinned. "Future Alpha of Dawnclaw. Son of Kaelen Ashborne. The boy with a seven-day deadline hanging over his head."
Tyler's blood ran cold.
"How do you know about that?"
Greece shrugged. "Forests hear things. People talk. Secrets leak."
Tyler's jaw tightened. The council had sworn discretion. If Nightmere already knew,
"Well," Greece added quickly, waving a hand, "not the details. Just the tension. You smell like stress, by the way."
Tyler blinked. "I, what?"
"I mean that in the least offensive way possible," Greece said. "Which is still kind of offensive, now that I think about it."
Despite himself, Tyler huffed a quiet laugh.
That surprised them both.
The silence stretched, not uncomfortable but curious, like a question neither wanted to ask.
"So," Greece said at last, pushing off the tree, "are you going to arrest me for standing on invisible borders, or do we pretend this never happened?"
"I don't have authority to arrest anyone," Tyler replied.
"Yet," Greece teased.
Tyler rolled his eyes. "I should go."
"Probably," Greece agreed. "Deadlines don't like being ignored."
Tyler turned to leave, then hesitated.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
Greece's smile faded, just slightly. "Because this forest used to belong to both our clans. Before your elders decided silence was easier than peace."
Tyler swallowed. "That's not..."
"...your fault?" Greece finished gently. "I know."
That was worse.
Tyler left then, heart heavier than when he'd arrived.
Behind him, Greece watched until his scent faded.
The forest whispered again.
The council chamber smelled like old stone and older grudges.
Tyler stood at the center, hands clasped behind his back, as twelve elders regarded him with expressions carved from tradition. His father, Alpha Kaelen, sat at the head, posture calm, eyes sharp.
"Seven days have passed since the announcement," Elder Morrek said. "You've spent the first day wandering."
Tyler stiffened. "I was assessing the borders."
"Alone?" another elder scoffed.
"Yes."
"Reckless."
"Necessary," Tyler countered.
A murmur rippled through the room.
Kaelen raised a hand. Silence fell instantly.
"The Day Deadline is not about caution," Kaelen said. "It is about judgment."
Tyler met his father's gaze. "Then judge me by what I learn, not where I walk."
The elders exchanged glances.
Elder Serah leaned forward. "And what did you learn today?"
Tyler hesitated.
He thought of Greece's laughter. Of his words. Of how easily information had traveled beyond Dawnclaw walls.
"That our silence is louder than we think," Tyler said finally.
Something unreadable flickered across Kaelen's face.
"Be careful," Serah warned. "Nightmere thrives on manipulation."
Tyler said nothing.
He was already beginning to suspect the truth was more complicated than that.
Night fell fast.
Too fast.
Tyler lay awake in his room, staring at the ceiling as moonlight spilled across the floor. The deadline ticked louder in his mind now, every second pressing down on his chest.
Seven days.
To prove himself.
To prevent a war no one admitted was coming.
A soft knock came at his window.
Tyler bolted upright.
No scent warning. No footsteps.
Just three taps.
Careful. Deliberate.
He crossed the room silently and slid the window open.
Greece crouched on the ledge, eyes bright.
"Relax," he whispered. "I climbed. Didn't break anything."
Tyler stared. "Are you insane?"
"Possibly." Greece hopped inside. "But you looked like someone who needed answers."
"How did you..."
"Forest," Greece said simply. "Also, your guards are predictable."
Tyler rubbed his face. "You can't be here."
"I know." Greece's expression sobered. "That's why I am."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"They're moving, Tyler. Both sides. Supplies disappearing. Scouts crossing lines."
Tyler's heart pounded. "Why tell me?"
Greece met his eyes, something earnest and dangerous burning there.
"Because in seven days, they'll ask you to choose," he said.
"Choose what?"
Greece swallowed.
"Which clan burns first."
A horn sounded in the distance, sharp, urgent.
An alarm.
Tyler spun toward the window.
When he looked back,
Greece was gone.
On the floor where he'd stood lay a single token: a carved crescent, split down the middle.
Nightmere's warning.
Tyler closed his fist around it as voices echoed through the halls.
The deadline had truly begun.