Fate is what will release me from this burdened, strange need that now rests within my grasp, a strange, consuming call that I have no choice but to fulfill. It wraps around my heart like the tightest of vines, the thorns urging me to keep moving forward, deeper into the woods. I cannot stop, not yet. Not until I have completed what has been set in motion long before I was even born.

  The first chase.

  And I am the quarry to be found.

  My cloven hooves carry me relentlessly toward the edge of the woods that have always called to me, the place where shadows are deepest, where my kind thrives. The rattle of Alistair's antlers colliding with Shawn's rings out behind me, sharp and sudden, a crack in the air like the report of a gunshot. The sound is as fleeting as a breath, but I know what it means. Alistair will win, just as he always does. He is strong, determined.

  But that doesn't mean I must make it easy for him.

  As the future Matriarch of my herd, it is my responsibility to make him work. To test his resolve. To ensure that the one who claims me truly deserves it. I risk a stolen glance over my shoulder, my heart racing as I catch a fleeting flicker of their reddish-colored fur disappearing amongst the dense bracken. It’s as though they are nothing more than shadows flitting beneath the surface of dark water, here one moment, gone the next.

  But Alistair will find me.

  They always do.

  My legs churn against the dirt as I flee, my movements instinctual, urgent. The world around me blurs as I push through the underbrush, feeling the cool evening air on my fur, the faint scent of earth and decay mixing with the rising scent of rain. Twilight has begun to take hold of the sky, the fading orange of the dying sun swallowed up by the encroaching gray of night. The last traces of daylight retreat, leaving only the chill of evening and the promise of an oncoming storm.

  I take the least-traveled paths, the ones we rarely use, careful to leave no trace, no sign of where I’ve gone. But I will abandon these as well, these familiar ways that once cradled me as a fawn, guiding my steps in ways only the forest can. There is no room for hesitation now. My purpose, my destiny, is too important to be delayed.

  I must keep going.

  The scent of rain grows stronger as I move forward, thickening in the air with every passing moment. The taste of it is a bitter twist for the night.

  Nothing better than a cold night in the rain.

  Especially with it being my first Rut.

  But rain is meant to be a good sign, a sign of new growth.

  The forest presses in around me, its tangled vines of multiflora rose reaching out like fingers, tangled and desperate to hold me back. The blooms of summer have long since faded, their petals now scattered like memories on the ground. The only thing that remains are the sharp, unforgiving thorns. Several of them catch at my fur as I pass, ripping away tufts of it in my wake. It stings, but I don’t stop. I can’t afford to. In the beginning, I had to make it easy, give him the illusion that I would be captured quickly.

  But now, now I run for the sake of running.

  The human part of me smiles, even though her nerves tangle with the weight of uncertainty. She knows what this means. Knows that there is no turning back, no second chances. The stars are already aligning, the path ahead already determined.

  Still, there is a part of her that cannot help but marvel at the inevitability of it all.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  I shake out my pelt, the fur along my back rippling as I continue onward. The sound of the wind through the trees sings a haunting song in my ears, and the whispers of the forest seem to call to me. My ancestors are beckoning me to return to where I truly belong, all Matriarchs before me having traveled through these woods. The sensation settles over me like an old, familiar blanket, comforting yet unsettling in its certainty. I know that this place, this forest, is my true home. I know that I belong here.

  I am a part of it.

  I am the forest.

  With each leap and bound, my pelt blends into the shadows, as if I am one with the dusk and creeping night. As I move, I am as invisible as the wind itself. The soft padding of my hooves against the earth is the only sound that accompanies me, barely audible in the stillness of the forest. My heart beats faster, but the rhythm of the world around me calms my nerves, urging me forward, deeper into the mystery of the woods.

  I no longer hear Alistair’s fight. His scent, his presence, seems to fade as the wind shifts and pulls the scent of the earth into my nose, drowning out everything else. It is as though he has disappeared entirely, swallowed by the vastness of the woods. I know, though, that he is still out there, still coming. There is no escaping what has already been set into motion.

  I am the Matriarch.

  I will bear his fawns.

  I will lead my herd.

  I will guide them.

  The thought settles within me like a weight I can neither ignore nor fully embrace. The mantle of leadership has always been meant for me, but the burden of it, of the expectations. I can't help but fear what's to come.

  The tuft of fur upon my chest, which seems to glow faintly like the tentative stars above, marks me as one who is chosen. Star-guided. This mark, this insignia, has been passed down through the generations, a symbol of the one who will lead the herd when the time comes.

  That time is now.

  But even as I hold the weight of destiny upon my shoulders, I falter. The roots of the forest, ancient and gnarled, rise up before me, twisted and unpredictable. My eyes, clouded by the rush of adrenaline and the burden of my thoughts, fail me for a moment. I stumble, my hooves skittering against the earth as I lose my footing. My body crashes to the ground, the impact sending a jolt through my bones.

  For a moment, I am disoriented, lost in the confusion of it all. My legs flail beneath me as I struggle to find purchase on the uneven ground, my hooves scraping desperately against the dirt.

  I push myself up, muscles protesting and shake out my pelt, trying to steady myself. The scent of the earth is thick in the air now, earthy and wet. I can hear the distant rumble of thunder, the storm creeping closer with every passing moment.

  And then, in the stillness that follows, I hear it.

  A snort, sharp and sudden, splitting the quiet twilight air like a knife. My heart stutters in my chest, my nerves flaring to life as I spin toward the sound, hooves digging into the earth as I prepare for what’s to come.

  The forest falls silent around us, the very air heavy with anticipation. The trees seem to lean in, their branches like long fingers reaching out to witness this moment, this meeting of fate. A chill runs through my body, sinking deep into my bones. It is the cold of October settling into the forest, the dying of the year and the beginning of something new.

  Across the clearing stands Alistair.

  His eyes meet mine and for a brief, intense moment, the world narrows down to just the two of us. His gaze is dark.

  Infinite.

  The black depths of it swallowing everything in its path, including me. There is a hunger there, a heat that burns within him as he watches me. It is a gaze that is both unsettling and captivating.

  A primal urge stirs beneath my skin, the heat of it rising in a way I cannot deny. It is an instinct, something older than thought, deeper than reason.

  Something that cannot be ignored.

  I stand frozen for a moment, caught in the web of it.

  And then, slowly, Alistair lowers his antlers, his head dipping down in a gesture of respect. It is reverence, alien in its intensity, but unmistakable in its meaning.

  My heart pounds in my chest, a strange thrill sweeping through me.

  He has chosen me.

  I feel the truth of it as if the earth itself has whispered it to me.

  He has found me, and I am his.

  And he, mine.

  My mother was meant to be Matriarch. But she was taken from me too soon, killed by a rogue werewolf before I could even fully understand the weight of her position. My grandmother has held the position for far too long, well past her years as she is now fading from us. So it is left to myself and Alistair, a bond that neither of us can deny. A duty we must shoulder together.

  The voice in my mind speaks again, low and soothing, a reminder of the inevitability of it all.

  He found you first.

  I dip my head, my muzzle grazing the tips of the grass beneath me, accepting the unspoken bond between us. It is a strange thing, this destiny that has always existed between us, unacknowledged until now. There is no more running. There is no more doubt. The future has already been written, and we must walk it together.

  I am chosen.

  And Alistair is the one who will lead with me.

  My Sentinel.