Chronicles of Rohan: The Birth of the True Alpha

Chapter 6: The Hunters Shadow

"You gonna say something, or just keep staring like I’m the one who dragged you into this?"

Lucas blinked. The air felt heavier than before, like it had thickened the moment she spoke. He couldn’t decide if the tightness in his chest was fear or anger.

"You knew my name. You knew what I was," he said slowly. "That’s not normal."

Skylar stood a few feet away, arms crossed, back pressed casually against the crumbling brick wall of the old warehouse. Her hoodie was dusty, one sleeve ripped along the seam, but her posture wasn’t careless. She stood with intent. Like someone who knew the room, the exits, the hiding spots and how to turn anything in it into a weapon. Lucas didn’t trust her. Not yet.

Skylar arched a brow. "Neither is turning into a wolf and surviving your first shift without killing someone."

Lucas stiffened. "So, you have been watching me."

She shrugged, eyes flicking toward a shadow in the corner before returning to him. "Not just me. Others too. But I’m the one who got to you first. That counts for something."

"And who exactly are these others?" he asked.

Skylar tilted her head. "Let’s just say you’ve got fans... and enemies. More enemies than fans, unfortunately."

Lucas looked down at his hands. The skin was scraped, fingers stained with dirt, knuckles bruised and raw. His whole body throbbed, not like after a fight or fall, but like something inside had been shaken loose and hadn’t quite settled back into place. He rubbed his palms together, trying to chase away the feeling.

Skylar pushed off the wall and walked over to sit on a crate opposite him. Her gaze scanned the room, not out of fear, but habit.

"You’ve been marked," she said. "The moment you shifted, it sent a ripple. The wrong people felt it. Hunters always have sensors mounted everywhere."

Lucas sighed and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Why me? I didn’t ask for any of this."

"No one does," she said, voice softer now.

For a moment, the silence between them was undisturbed. The wind slipped through broken windowpanes, rattling the loose frame. Somewhere outside, metal creaked with an eerie groan. It could’ve been the old building settling... or something else.

Lucas’s voice broke the stillness. "You know Dylan?"

Skylar’s eyes narrowed just slightly. "By name. Not personally."

"He said I had to run. That they’d come for me. He stayed behind."

She watched him carefully. "Then you’re lucky you made it out. They usually don’t leave survivors."

Lucas stood and began pacing. His mind spun, thoughts crashing like waves. "So what now? You’re telling me I’m being hunted. Dylan might be dead. I can’t go home. And you’re just here to help me because you’re feeling generous?"

Skylar stood too, the motion smooth and quiet. "I’m here because I know what’s coming. And I know you’re not ready for it."

Lucas turned toward her, frustration bubbling. "Why do you care?"

She hesitated, her gaze locking with his. Something shifted in her expression—like she was weighing how much of herself to reveal. Then she said it.

"Because I used to be trained to kill things like you."

Lucas stopped. The words echoed in his head. The space between them seemed to shrink and tense.

"What?"

"You heard me," Skylar said. "My family, they’re hunters. Been doing it for generations."

Lucas stared at her, blood draining from his face. "So... you’re here to kill me? Is this some kind of trap?"

She didn’t flinch. "If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead. Trust me."

"Wow, that’s comforting."

Skylar sighed. "Look, I broke from that life. I didn’t agree with everything they taught me. I saw what it did to my family. I left. Doesn’t mean I forgot everything they taught me."

Lucas took a step back, his instincts firing. "So, what, you just show up, drop that bomb, and expect me to trust you?"

"No," she said firmly. "I expect you to survive. And to do that, you need to stop thinking everyone’s your enemy and start figuring out who your real ones are."

Lucas ran a hand through his hair, pacing again. "And how do I know you’re not one of them?"

Skylar didn’t look away. "You don’t. But you’re alive. That has to count for something."

Before he could respond, a sudden crash echoed from outside. It was sharp, metallic. Both of them turned instantly.

Lucas dropped into a crouch, moving to the window and peeking through a broken slat. Outside, at the far end of the train yard, three figures in black slipped between rusted cars, flashlights sweeping in arcs.

Skylar was beside him in a heartbeat, gripping his arm. "Time to move."

"Back tunnel?" he whispered.

She nodded. "Fast."

They bolted. Lucas followed her through the narrow passage at the back of the warehouse. Their footsteps rang loud against the corroded floor, every sound amplified in the tight metal walls.

"Where are we going?" he asked between breaths.

"Somewhere safe. For now."

They ducked into another structure, a small, squat building half-buried in weeds. A storage shed, maybe. Skylar yanked the door shut behind them, locked it, and pulled a blackout curtain across the single, grimy window.

Lucas dropped to the floor, heart hammering. His hands trembled against the concrete.

"Why are they still tracking me?" he asked.

"Because you’re new. Fresh blood. They think you’re weak. Easy to wipe out before you understand what you are."

"And what am I?"

Skylar didn’t answer right away. She was listening, still and alert. Then she said quietly, "They’ll be back. With more. We need to move again before sunrise."

Lucas looked up at her. "You said you left your family. How do I know they’re not using you to find me?"

"Because they already know where you are," she said. "But they don’t know what you’re capable of yet. That gives us time. Not much. But some."

Lucas stared at the floor, thoughts circling like vultures. Skylar pulled a folded map from her pack and spread it on the floor between them.

"We can get to the ridge by dawn," she said. "There’s a place Dylan told someone about before he vanished. A contact. Someone who might know more about why you were bitten."

Lucas leaned forward. "You said 'why.' You mean this wasn’t random?"

Skylar nodded once. "Nothing about your bite was random. Someone wanted this. Someone planned it."

The words settled over him like lead. His stomach churned.

Skylar stood and slung her pack over her shoulder. "Come on. Time to go."

Without another word, they slipped into the shadows again.

Behind them, the hunters entered the train yard, too late. But not empty-handed. One of them held up a phone, the screen casting a faint glow in the darkness. A message blinked across it:

“He’s with the girl. Skylar Spears.”

The hunter’s lips curled into a grin.

"Got her."