Chapter 3

• Ayla
• The memories of the book launch blurred as I blinked. One minute I was about to enter the event hall, the next, I was sprawled on the damp earth of a forest, the scent of pine and something wild, feral, filling my nostrils. My backpack, miraculously, was clutched tightly in my hand.
• "Okay, Ayla, deep breaths." I whispered, my voice trembling slightly. "This has to be a dream. A really, really immersive, ridiculously realistic dream."
• I looked around the thick forest. “It’s probably Saturday morning and I’m still asleep.”
• I pinched myself. Hard. Ouch. Nope, still here. I tried jumping, hoping to jolt myself awake. Nothing. I even attempted to lucid dream, willing myself to wake up in my comfy bed with a cup of tea. Nada.
• Panic started to bubble in my chest. This wasn't a dream. This was… real. I was in a real forest, somewhere completely unfamiliar. The trees were impossibly tall, the leaves a shade of green I'd never seen before. This was like stepping straight into the pages of one of my fantasy books.
• Taking a shaky breath, I pushed myself to my feet. My hands instinctively reached for the small Swiss Army knife I always carried. Old habits, I guess. The forest was eerily silent, save for the rustling of the wind through the leaves. I took a tentative step, then another, trying to get my bearings.
• Snap!
• The sound of a twig breaking under my foot echoed through the trees. I bent down to tie my shoelace, my fingers fumbling nervously with the knot. As I tightened the lace, a sharp whistle cut through the air.
• Thwack!
• An arrow, fletched with dark feathers, slammed into the tree trunk inches behind me. My heart leaped into my throat. I scrambled to my feet, adrenaline coursing through my veins.
• Another arrow whizzed past, tearing a leaf from a nearby bush. A low, guttural growl, primal and terrifying, rumbled through the undergrowth. It was a sound I knew intimately from the pages of my book – a werewolf growl.
• I didn't need any more convincing. I ran. I ran like my life depended on it, because it probably did. Fear was a cold knot in my stomach, but it fueled my legs, propelling me forward through the dense forest. Branches whipped at my face, and roots tripped me up, but I kept running. I could hear the sounds of pursuit behind me – snapping twigs, heavy panting, and that chilling growl that promised pain and death.
• Then, the ground disappeared beneath me. One moment I was running, the next I was plummeting into darkness, a strangled scream escaping my lips. I hit the bottom with a sickening thud, and everything went black.
• I woke up to the sound of voices, harsh and accusing.
• "She's a spy! I saw her skulking near the border!"
• "A witch, more likely! Look at her strange clothes and pale skin and her eyes! I’ve never seen anything so green before."
• My head throbbed. I was lying on a cold, stone floor, my body aching in protest. I kept my eyes closed, feigning unconsciousness, trying to piece together what was happening. I was surrounded by… who? Soldiers? They smelled of earth and iron, and something else, something faintly animalistic.
• I waited, listening to their muttered accusations, until their voices faded into the distance. When I was sure they were gone, I slowly opened my eyes. I was in a dimly lit cell, the only light filtering through a narrow slit in the wall.
• My body screamed in protest as I pushed myself to my feet. I stumbled towards the door, testing it. Locked, of course. I ran my hands along the cold stone, searching for a weakness, a crack, anything I could use to escape.
• Just as I was about to give up, I heard footsteps approaching. Panic seized me. I braced myself for whatever was coming.
• The door swung open, revealing a figure silhouetted against the dim light. He was tall and broad-shouldered, clad in leather armor, with a stern face framed by dark hair. He held himself with an air of authority that made my knees tremble.
• "So, the spy is awake," he said, his voice low and gravelly.
• I tried to run, but he moved with lightning speed, grabbing my arm in a vice-like grip. My breath hitched as I stared into his intense, dark eyes.
• "Let me go!" I demanded, trying to sound braver than I felt.
• He ignored me, his grip tightening on my arm. "You're going to see the Alpha."
• Alpha. The word hit me like a physical blow. Alpha. As in, leader of the werewolf pack. As in, a character straight out of my book. Pack. Village. These were supposed to be fiction.
• "Alpha?" I stammered, my voice a mere whisper. "What are you talking about?"
• He just stared at me, his expression unreadable. "The Captain will take you. Don’t try anything foolish."
• Two more guards appeared, flanking the first. They were just as imposing, just as… intimidating. I knew struggling would be pointless.
• As they led me through the winding corridors, I noticed others calling my captor ‘Captain Eli’. We followed him as he led me through the rough building and into the open village. I tried to take in everything, but it was too much. The rough-hewn buildings, the wary looks of the villagers, the air thick with the scent of woodsmoke and… something else, something wild and untamed. This was a werewolf village. A freaking werewolf village.
• The reality of my situation crashed down on me like a tidal wave. I wasn't just in a forest; I was trapped in a fictional reality. And if the stories I'd read about were even remotely true, I was in serious trouble.
• All of the books vividly described what the fate of spies was and none were merciful.
• Eli led me to a large, imposing structure in the center of the village. It was built of dark wood and stone, with intricate carvings adorning the entrance. This must be the Alpha's castle.