The black wolf burst out from between the trees and landed right in front of us.
My laughter died instantly.
I tried to get down from Kongar's arms, but the firm hold wrapped around me didn't allow it. On the contrary, the more I moved, the tighter his grip became, pulling me closer as if letting go would mean losing me entirely. For a brief moment, it felt as though, if it were possible, he would have hidden me inside himself.
He began to walk backward.
With every step he took, the black wolf's growl deepened. His teeth were fully bared, and his gaze never left Kongar, not even for a second.
That tension made me shift restlessly in Kongar's arms.
"You're scaring her," Kongar said to him.
Then Kongar tilted his head slightly and looked at me. His eyes darkened for a moment before returning to normal, as if two different forces inside him were struggling for dominance.
"Put me down—"
I couldn't finish my sentence.
A wet, warm nose suddenly pushed its way between Kongar and me. The black wolf tried to wedge his large head between us, nudging Kongar with his nose and pushing him back with his head.
He was growling at him.
But he wasn't biting.
Each time that damp nose brushed against my stomach, I flinched involuntarily, the sensation quickly turning into a ticklish feeling I couldn't control. I tried to hold it in, but failed, and laughter burst out of me before I could stop it.
The black wolf froze for a brief moment at my reaction.
When I lifted my head, I realized that both of them were watching me. Their combined attention stirred something strange inside me—an urge to hide, yet at the same time, an inability to move, like being caught between two opposing instincts.
After that brief pause, the wet nose returned to my stomach, this time more insistent in its movements.
As the tickling intensified, my breathing grew uneven, and my laughter broke into uncontrollable giggles. I was practically squirming in Kongar's arms, struggling to regain control over my own body.
Kongar, however, simply watched all of this in silence, making no attempt to stop him—almost as if he were deliberately allowing it.
"D-don't—" I managed to say, but only in the brief moments when I could catch my breath; my voice was still unsteady, breaking under the lingering effect of my laughter, refusing to fully return to normal.
In the middle of it all, an unexpected thought slipped into my mind—maybe the moments when they clashed with each other were actually safer for me, because in this state, I was beginning to realize more and more clearly that I had no chance of dealing with both of them at the same time.
As the rest of the pack caught up with us, the black wolf suddenly pulled back, and the persistent, tickling contact came to an abrupt end; the sudden absence of it left behind a strange sense of silence after all that chaos.
I didn't waste the opportunity.
I slid down to the ground; the moment my feet touched the earth, I quickly straightened my clothes and smoothed my hair with practiced movements, then cleared my throat, trying to pull myself together.
"Ahem… right, well…" I began, but my voice still didn't quite feel like my own; I struggled to steady my tone. "Where are we going?"
---
I couldn't tell exactly how much time had passed, but it was certain that we had been walking through the forest for hours. The walk had worn me out far more than I had expected; my muscles were growing heavy, each step becoming harder than the last, and yet I still refused to stop.
Along the way, Kongar had offered several times to carry me, while Arkan, in his wolf form, made the same offer without using words—by the way he stayed close to me, slowed his pace to match mine, even stepped in front of me at times to block my path, making it clear that if I wanted, he could carry me without effort.
But I refused. I still had legs, and I could still walk, and I clung stubbornly to my own steps as if I needed to prove it to them.
This long walk had given me far too much time to think.
What was I going to do now? Where was I even going?
As my mind circled around those questions, my gaze kept drifting from side to side, searching for an opening, a small chance to escape. But every time I turned my head, I found myself locking eyes with one of the wolves in the pack.
That wasn't a coincidence.
It was a circle.
And I was inside it.
That realization only deepened the unease growing within me. For a brief moment, I wished that all of this was nothing more than a trick of my mind; because I had seen things before that I believed were real… only to learn that they weren't—or at least, that I had been made to believe they weren't.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice when the black wolf quietly approached me. He looked into my eyes first—with that deep, familiar gaze—then brushed his large body against mine, matching his steps to mine as he walked beside me.
At first, I tried to push him away.
But the moment my hands touched his fur, I felt the tension inside me soften. The sensation was unexpectedly soothing. Before I realized it, my hand slipped into his thick fur, and I found myself stroking him.
With every touch, a low, vibrating rumble rose from his throat.
Kongar walked on my other side, his posture as straight and flawless as ever. Despite the chaos from earlier, his suit looked almost untouched, not a single crease in sight.
Compared to him, I was the complete opposite.
My clothes were covered in dirt, my hair was a mess, and standing next to him, I looked utterly disheveled beside him.
When the black wolf finally moved away from my side, my thoughts scattered at once. Everything that had been crowding my mind retreated, and my attention shifted entirely to him. He had started walking ahead. With every step he took, I could hear the sharp, unsettling sounds of bones shifting and snapping into place—yet he didn't stop moving.
Then, suddenly, the sounds ceased.
And standing before me was Arkan, his back turned.
"Open the gate," he said.
A gate?
When I looked ahead, I realized we were standing before a massive structure I hadn't noticed before. It was a tall, heavy gate, and on either side stood two large men who were clearly guards.
"Who do you think you—" one of them began, but before he could finish, the man beside him jabbed him sharply with his elbow, silencing him.
The other stepped forward.
"A-Alpha… it's you, isn't it?" he asked.
There was more than just respect in his voice—there was hope, barely restrained.
Arkan gave a slight nod in confirmation.
The man immediately stepped in front of him and, without hesitation, lowered his head, tilting his neck to the side and leaving it exposed; I didn't think that gesture was random.
It was… a sign of submission.
Or rather, it was a silent acknowledgment of the hierarchy between them.
"Everything is still there, isn't it?" Arkan asked, his voice calm yet carrying an unfamiliar weight.
Without waiting for an answer, he walked past the guards and headed toward the gate.
"Of course, Alpha," the man replied quickly, hurrying to his side. "For generations, we have preserved your room and belongings exactly as they were."
After a brief pause, his voice softened.
"We truly believed… that you would return."
At those words, my gaze drifted to Arkan.
Had he not been home for a very long time?
"Good," Arkan said, extending his hand toward me.
"Come, Kayra."
Kayra.
The moment I heard my name from his lips, I shifted involuntarily where I stood; my body seemed to strain toward him, as if it couldn't resist that call. And every time he said my name, it sounded strangely soft to my ears—almost like a melody, as though it didn't quite belong to me.
Fixing my gaze on his outstretched hand, I walked toward him. But I didn't take it. I passed by him and stepped through the gate.
And then I froze. The sight before me left me stunned.
I couldn't believe my eyes; hidden within the forest, tucked between the trees, stretched a small city. Two- and three-story houses, orderly streets, even shops and crowds visible in the distance… people. Could this place really exist?
With that thought, I turned back abruptly.
But the moment I did, I collided with Arkan.
Losing my balance, I staggered backward; just as I thought I was about to fall, a strong arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me back.
But that movement pressed me against his bare chest.
Arkan didn't let go.
Instead, he lowered his head slowly toward my hair, took a deep breath, and then, in a voice barely above a whisper—
"My mate," he murmured.
My mate?
What did that even mean?
Then I remembered—he had said the same word the first time we met.
I found myself hoping it didn't mean what I thought it did, but my body was acting as if it no longer belonged to me; I leaned into him ever so slightly without meaning to, and the moment I became aware of the warmth pressing against my chest, I froze.
A deep, rumbling sound—half growl, half something softer—rose from Arkan's throat.
Heat flooded my entire body in an instant; I could feel my face, my neck, even my ears burning with embarrassment.
And then, in the very next moment, a harsh crashing sound from somewhere to our side shattered everything.