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ONE
MADDOX
Only two days until summer break, and the last of my excuses. I can feel the tension mounting in the air as the clock relentlessly counts down the hours. Soon, I’ll be trading the tranquility of my secluded life for the chaos of the Rift War, which rages on in the heart of the forbidden forest, threatening life as we all know it. Every single person will be affected if the Rift takes control of us all. The thought alone sends shivers down my spine, but I have no choice. Duty calls, and my past is catching up with me. It’s time to show what I can do.
I’ve been retired for over ten years, living a peaceful life away from the troubles of the pack. But the alpha’s call has reached my ears—a summons that cannot be ignored. The Rift War has taken its toll on our kind, and they need every able-bodied wolf they can muster. Wolves have already been in and out of the forbidden forest, trying to defeat the Rift. They might have weakened the tear in the fabric of time and space, but no one has defeated it yet.
But I will. I’m determined to. I just hope my new pack feels the same way…
A pack will gather, a group of strangers united by the same cause, faces unfamiliar to me. I won’t know any of them, and they won’t know me. It’ll be an odd feeling, standing among fellow wolves who are essentially strangers. But that doesn’t matter to me. All that matters is the one thing I’m determined to retain control over: my choice of who we will be mate bonded to.
It’s a peculiar stipulation of mine, a condition I’ve negotiated with the wolf elders when agreeing to return to active duty. The mating bond is a powerful, unbreakable connection that forms between wolves in the heat of battle. It’s a source of strength, trust, and solidarity, and in the Rift War, it can mean the difference between life and death.
I’ve seen too much in my years of service, experienced too many losses, and forged too many bonds that were broken by the harsh realities of war. The mating bond is the one thing I refuse to leave to chance. I’ve lost too many friends, too many packmates. I can’t bear the thought of losing another. I won’t lose another. That isn’t going to happen.
So, as the days dwindle down to two, I feel a mix of anticipation and trepidation. I can’t control the outcome of the war, but I can control this one aspect of it. But that means I need to do it right. I don’t want anyone to die because of me and my bad decisions. It just won’t happen.
I know that fulfilling this requirement will be easy. Humans, I have learned, often desire an escape from their mundane lives. They are peculiar creatures, always seeking refuge in the fantastical worlds of their imagination. They devour those crazy romance books—the ones filled with tales of ghosts, fairies, and other unreal mythical creatures. It’s all rather ridiculous, if you ask me, but it works in my favor. Someone will want to come with me on this year-long mission—if it even takes that long—to save the world.
The forbidden forest, shrouded in its own mystique, has long been a source of fascination for these humans. It is a place where their wildest dreams can come true—a realm of magic and wonder just beyond the veil of reality. Little do they know that the forest holds secrets far more enchanting than any storybook can convey. They might make up tales about the forbidden forest, but what’s happening within it now is all too real.
The only problem is that I have yet to even look at any mating round prospects assigned to me by the elders. I’ve been so engrossed in my work at university that I’ve been putting it off, ignoring the looming responsibility because I really am anxious about doing the wrong thing. But now, with only two days to get someone into the forest, I really don’t have any choice. I need to get on with it. I need to figure out which human woman is coming with us.
These student tests don’t need marking as much as the mate needs picking. So, I push them all to one side, forgoing my career for a minute. Since I’m about to take a year out, I don’t suppose it matters too much what I do workwise.
With a heavy sigh, I finally reach for the folder, its contents representing a future I’ve been avoiding. Each page contains the details of a potential mate, a human life who could be intertwined with mine, should I choose. These women have all been selected perfectly to suit me and the other wolves in the pack as well. I can’t deny the curiosity that tugs at me as I flip through the pages, glimpsing the names, backgrounds, and personalities of these individuals. There must be around fifty of them in total, women with whom each of my new teammates had some form of contact within their daily lives. It’s a diverse mix—a collection of individuals from various walks of life.
As I scan the names and profiles, it’s unsurprising to see that some of these women are my colleagues. People I’ve gone to college with myself—others who work at my university alongside me. Most are my age, some younger, but it’s clear that the elders have cast a wide net in their search for potential mates, trying to keep me as happy as they can. I guess they really are desperate to have me on this mission with them.
However, as I examine the list, a sense of reluctance washes over me. I’d rather not take any of the university’s staff if I can help it. We are already hard-pressed to find good professors as it is—and the students will suffer needlessly for my choosing one of their instructors. It’s a burden I’m not willing to place on their shoulders, especially since I’m already being taken away.
Plus, I don’t feel like I have any real connection with them like that. No one has lured me in and made me want me before. I’ve even been asked out on a couple of dates by some of them, but without a spark, what’s the point? I can’t force chemistry.
I close my eyes for a moment, trying to clear my thoughts and focus on the task at hand. It’s time to carefully evaluate each candidate, weigh the pros and cons, and make a choice that is not only right for me but also for those who depend on me.
If not one of my colleagues, then who?
One is a cashier at the local grocery store. Her name is Sarah, a friendly and familiar face I often encounter during my routine shopping trips. She always flashes a warm smile as she scans my groceries, and we exchange pleasantries about the weather or the latest town gossip. She seems like a genuinely kind person, but I don’t know if she’s right either.
Another candidate on the list is my hairdresser, Lisa. She is a talented stylist, whose work I’m always happy with. I’m pretty sure she lingers on my hair longer than others because there might be something there. But because of that, I know I could have asked her out before if I wanted to. Clearly, that hasn’t happened.
And then there’s Maria, who I used to live next door to. We did have a brief fling for a while, and it was a whole lot of fun at the time. But it burned out as quickly as it ignited, and I don’t think either of us is keen to go back there. I don’t think there’s anything left between us…
A knock comes at my door, and I swiftly shove my papers under my desk, concealing the endless sea of pictures that are taunting me, teasing me into making a decision. I know exactly who’s standing on the other side, ready to intrude upon my already chaotic day. Mahalia Jones. A student whose very existence seems to exist solely to test my patience and second guess my desire to teach. It’s always her, I don’t even need to ask.
“Come in,” I callout, leaning back in my chair.
As the door swings open, Mahalia strides in with the kind of confidence that can only be born from sheer audacity. She wears an expression that suggests she has something important to discuss, but I’ve learned from countless encounters with her that her definition of important often differs significantly from mine.
The only reason she even took my class was that her parents had insisted upon it—a fact she never lets me forget. Her disdain for academia and her desire to be anywhere but in my classroom are palpable, evident in every eye roll, every sigh, and every time she runs her mouth. She’s notorious for talking on her phone during lectures, never bothering to silence it, as if her conversations are of the utmost importance. And when she’s not engaged in a phone call, she’s more helpful but no less infuriating, slumping her head onto the desk and falling asleep, her snoring often competing with my attempts at teaching.
Today, she’s here for a different reason, it seems. She takes a deep breath and launches into her tirade without missing a beat as if she’s been rehearsing this moment in her head.
“Professor, this is ridiculous! I can’t believe you’re failing me!”
I roll my eyes at her for a change. It’s funny to have the roles reversed. “Mahalia, I’ve given you multiple opportunities to improve your grades. You haven’t been attending classes regularly, and your assignments lack the effort and commitment needed to succeed. You didn’t even do the last assignment I set. You have to keep on top of your homework.”
“Well, I have a life outside of this class, you know! I can’t spend all my time studying.” She rolls her eyes in an over-dramatic fashion. “I have other responsibilities.”
