She was now the new Alpha.
But Jag wasted no time celebrating. She was the leader of a hungry, exhausted pack. Her immediate priorities were survival and consolidation.
She turned her massive head away from her new subjects and fixed her golden gaze directly onto the group of terrified humans. She did not snarl or growl. She gazed past them, her eyes fixed on the hulking carcass at the rear of the human barricade, its silver-striped glass-like back glimmering in the light.
The answer to her pack's desperate hunger and the price of the human's safety was clear. Jag had come to collect.
Her pack was starving. That crushing need pressed at the edges of her mind, muddying thought with urgency. Her wolves waited behind her, heads lowered, ribs showing, eyes fixed on the tense, armed humans at the cave mouth. They showed no fear... just hunger, cold, and absolute.
Jag's hackles lifted, not in malice, but from the instinct that the pack must eat or die.
Her gaze flicked toward the glass-back carcass behind the humans, then back to the humans themselves.
Two options. One necessary.
Barik saw it all: the calculation, the hunger, the duty that cornered the Alpha. He understood the immediate threat.
"She is calculating," he thought, his gaze hardening. "She is hungry. And we are in her way."
Barik's grip tightened on his spear.
Eris immediately understood her intention. He knew the pack, starved and victorious, expected the entire prize. But he also knew Haven Below could not afford such generosity. They had starved for this meat; they needed it to feed their own tribe, which was exponentially larger than Jag's pack.
Barik and the rest of the hunters misread the tense pause. They saw the Alpha's fixed stare, the bristling fur of the pack outside, and the sudden silence. They thought the newly crowned Alpha would attack them, and he was partially right; the choice was either them or the glass-back carcass, or perhaps both if the negotiation failed. Weapons subtly shifted in nervous hands.
Eris, still hidden behind the shield wall, felt the faint mental pressure he had sent pulsing through the Alpha's mind. The lingering confusion gave Jag a brief window.
Eris quickly stepped forward, slowly, his palms open, the silver light subtly simmering just beneath his skin.
"Jag," he said softly, keeping his voice gentle but steady.
Her ears twitched. Recognition… and perhaps a flicker of debt flashed in her golden eyes.
"You're hungry," Eris continued. "Your pack is starving. We have what you need."
He shifted slightly so Jag could see he carried no weapon in his hand, only trust and the hope that the fragile connection between them still held meaning.
"We can share," he stated firmly, projecting the thought clearly into Jag's mind. "We have many wounded, and our tribe has hundreds of mouths to feed. We'll feed your pack enough for survival, but we can't give you the entire prize. You must understand... our situation demands it."
Barik looked at Eris sharply, furious at the implied weakness of the immediate offer, but recognizing the necessity of de-escalation. He paused, then slowly, reluctantly, nodded his assent.
Barik lowered his spear fully, the point touching the stone. "We'll take what we need," he said, voice low, "and we'll leave the rest for you. No more fighting today."
A brief silence stretched, broken only by the soft rustle of wind through the cave's entrance. Then, with a subtle shift of her massive shoulders, Jag stepped back, allowing the humans a clear path to the carcass. The pack's heads lifted, eyes brightening as the scent of fresh meat drifted toward them.
Eris exhaled, the silver under his skin fading to a faint shimmer. The fragile truce held, a thin thread of hope weaving through the darkness, as both sides prepared to share the bounty and the uncertain future that lay ahead.
Eris stepped aside from the carcass, and Barik signaled his line to part just enough to create a corridor. The wolves did not advance… not yet, but their eyes followed their Alpha's every breath. Behind Jag, the pack shifted uncertainly, looking to their new Alpha for permission, for direction, for survival.
Jag, still struggling with the conflicting urges of her pack's hunger and Eris's truce, let out a soft, frustrated whine. The ultimatum was clear. Her aggressive posture dissolved into reluctant negotiation.
Then, she gave a single, clear, resonant sound, not a growl, not a snarl, but a deep, definitive chuff of command. The hungry wolves stayed exactly where they were.
Barik stepped forward, planting himself beside Eris. His spear remained lowered, not in surrender, but in a clear stance of command. Jag's golden gaze flicked to him, recognizing the shift in authority.
Barik took a steady breath, speaking quietly to his team. "She wants the glass-back. That's clear."
Cugat grimaced. "… if we give it up…"
"We're not giving it up." Barik's tone clipped the argument in half. "We're sharing."
The hunters exchanged uncertain looks.
Barik continued, his voice strong and even, setting the non-negotiable terms. "We take the largest share to bring home. They take enough to survive immediately. That is the trade, and it is the only trade we will make."
Jag's head tilted slightly. She understood enough of Barik's rigid stance.
But her gaze narrowed, her snout wrinkling slightly in displeasure at the human's audacity to dictate terms. The air crackled with a new tension. Though Eris was offering a shared prize, Jag's mind was partially clouded by her pack's immediate, overwhelming need for food. Her Alpha instincts urged her to seize the entire carcass.
Then…
A pair of shrill, panicked yips cut through the tension like a blade.
The cubs. They were crying for their mother.
Jag's ears snapped toward the sound. The haze of predatory tunnel vision cracked, then shattered completely. Her babies.
The sound was desperate, weak, and entirely innocent.
Tiny paws skittered across the stone floor, and the two little wolves tumbled into view from the deeper cave, their voices high and frightened. Renzo, startled by the abrupt noise, let out a nervous yelp in return, only adding to the commotion.
The cubs skidded to a halt at the sight of their mother, their tiny bodies trembling as they whimpered. Jag turned fully toward them, her entire posture softening—ears tilting forward, tail dipping low, shoulders relaxing into a protective crouch.
The raw hunger demanding the carcass instantly clashed with her primal need to protect her vulnerable young. Jag turned her head fully; maternal instinct overrode hunger, command, and conflict in a single pulse. Her eyes softened almost imperceptibly. The aggressive posture of her new pack, ready to fight for the meat, was suddenly irrelevant.
The pack behind her shifted uneasily, watching their Alpha react not as a hunter, but as a mother.
Barik saw the transformation and cautiously lowered his spear tip a few inches. Eris felt the psychic pressure in the air ease as the silver inside him dulled.
The cubs' cries echoed again… soft, frightened, insistent.
And Jag, newly crowned Alpha of a broken pack, took a step back from the humans, her ears tuned not to hunger, but to her children.
The standoff shattered, not with blood, but with the desperate cries of two small lives who reminded their leader what she stood to protect.
The big she-wolf wasn't bristling, wasn't coiling to spring. She stood over her cubs like a shield, gaze steady, breathing measured. Not a predator cornering prey, but a mother negotiating with her eyes alone.
Jag padded toward the little ones, licking the top of each cub's head once, firmly—reassurance, grounding, a reminder that they were safe. Their cries softened to small, breathy whines, tiny tails flicking.
But even with her attention on her young, Jag's golden eyes flicked back to the humans, then to the glass-back carcass lying behind them. This time, the hunger wasn't blinding. It was clearer, tempered by reason and instinct, the way a true Alpha weighs survival.
Eris felt the shift. He reached down and touched Jag's head. She leaned into it, just once. Somewhere inside the wolf, a flicker of respect for the strange, sharp-minded two-leg who had helped her win. Jag's ears flicked back, then forward again—acceptance.
Jag's golden gaze lingered on Eris, the conflict in her eyes softening into a wary calculation. She lowered her head, the growl in her throat fading to a low rumble. "You speak of sharing," she thought back, the mental thread thin but unbroken. "What do you ask in return?"
Eris felt the question settle like a stone in his mind.
Behind them, Barik watched the boy's hand linger on the wolf, and the wolf accepted it. It wasn't the first strange thing he had noticed about Eris. It would no longer be the last.
Barik exhaled, the first real breath he'd taken since the wolves appeared. "She's listening," Eris murmured, pulling his hand away. "Her cubs snapped her out of it."
"Good," Barik replied, his tone clipped. He gave Eris a sharp look. "We don't waste food. And we don't make enemies we don't need."
Eris opened his mouth to speak, but he swayed, a faint tremor betraying his composure. No one else seemed to notice the silver sheen fading from his eyes, but Barik's sharp gaze caught it. Instead of demanding an explanation, Barik gave a subtle nod. "Say what you were about to say," he prompted.
Eris hesitated, his eyes locking with Barik's for a brief, understanding moment. He reined in the power, dimming the silver pulse in his veins to a faint hum, and spoke in a voice that carried to his team – and Jag's mind. "Only a chance to end this cycle of blood," he said, his words laced with a deeper meaning that only Jag could decipher.
Eris continued, "Jag, you're Alpha now. You don't have to face another winter or another pack alone. Let us help each other, and the forest will remember the peace we forged."
"Your pack is wounded and tired… weak at this moment… and your babies need the security of this truce… time to grow. We can protect them together, and we share the meat. This is the only way all of us survive."
Eris's words are laced with a mix of condescension and pragmatism, implying that the pack's weakness makes them vulnerable and in need of an alliance. The mention of "babies" adds an emotional layer, suggesting he is looking out for the pack's future. The proposal is transactional: protection and shared resources in exchange for unity, with an undertone that this is the only viable option for survival.
Several hunters stiffened. This was bold, dangerous terrain. But Eris continued, his voice steady. Then he spoke the words no hunter had uttered to a wolf alpha in generations: "We can help each other. Your pack hunts the woods. Our hunters guard the borders. We share warnings. We stay out of each other's way. No more ambushes. No more wasted blood."
Jag's ears pinned back cautiously at the word blood, but she didn't growl. She listened.
Barik gave Eris a sidelong glance, a moment of profound decision passing over his face. "An alliance," he muttered, the word tasting like ash and iron. "You're serious?"
Eris nodded.
Barik stared at the young man who had just brokered peace with the enemy. The implications were staggering: protection against the wilderness, at the cost of a terrible secret. He had lost too many men to pride.
Barik huffed a quiet breath through his nose, not quite disbelief, not quite disapproval. Jag seemed to study him, her gaze moving between Eris and Barik, as if weighing the two voices: one offering partnership, the other offering terms.
Finally, Jag lowered her head, just enough to acknowledge Barik's authority within his own group. Not submission. Recognition.
Behind her, the battered, hungry pack held still, waiting for the signal that would determine their fate.
Barik took a steady breath, planting himself beside Eris. "We share the glass-back," Barik stated, his voice low and firm, letting Eris translate the intent. "But the largest share belongs to Haven. We've got more than nearly a hundred to feed in Haven. Children. Elders. Injured."
He didn't waver. "It's not greed," Barik added, gesturing to the wolves with an open hand. "It's survival. You can't store food the way we can, and the carcass will rot long before your pack can finish it."
Barik continued, his voice softening just a little. He introduced the core concept of the alliance: "If your pack struggles for food in the harsh seasons, Haven will share its stores. Leave a sign at the northern ridge, and we'll share what we can."
Several hunters stiffened; this was beyond bold now.
"And," Barik added, his tone taking on a quiet challenge as he met Jag's golden eyes, "if we ever lose a hunt, or if danger keeps our hunters out of the woods, you'll share the same way. No attacks. No cornering strays. Just leave food where we can take it safely."
"This is an exchange, not a demand," Barik concluded. "Yours and ours."
Eris quickly projected the full, complex terms to Jag: We take the majority for storage. We share when your pack starves. You share when our tribe starves. Co-existence.
The pack behind Jag stirred, confused murmurs rumbling through their throats. Wolves did not barter. Wolves took.
Yet their new Alpha didn't bristle. She didn't lower her head. She watched Barik with the sharp focus of a creature realizing, for the first time, a human wasn't speaking to her like prey or threat, but like a neighboring power.
Jag's gaze narrowed, her snout wrinkling slightly with initial displeasure at the human's audacity to dictate terms. The air crackled with a new, intellectual tension.
Eris felt Jag's presence brush the edge of his mind again, brief, approving, tired. We hunt our lands, the sense conveyed. You hunt yours. We can also hunt together and share the bounty. No hunger between us.
This option reflected a wolf Alpha who prioritized survival and recognized the humans' need for long-term storage as part of the new alliance. Jag processed the terms, her golden eyes calculating the gains: safety for her cubs, the guaranteed survival of her pack via human storage, and the valuable prospect of having humans as allies against the increasing number of powerful enemies in this corrupted land.
Jag stared at him, unblinking. Her mental response, sharp and private, shifted to Eris: You bought my life. The debt is noted. The silent understanding passed between Jag and Eris: the pack was under new, friendly command.
Jag's amber eyes flickered, the weight of Barik's words settling like fresh snow on the stone. A low, resonant rumble rose from her throat, not a growl, but a measured acknowledgment. In the brief silence that followed, a single thought slipped from her mind into Eris's: You keep your promise. I keep mine.
Then, slowly:
Her tail lowered further.
Her ears eased.
Her stance relaxed entirely.
It was a wolf's gesture of acceptance.
She let out a single, definitive "Harr!"…a grunt of acceptance.
A truce forged in blood, hunger, and an unexpected alliance. And with every step the humans now took, the fragile peace held.
Eris turned back to Barik, relief flooding his face. "She agrees! Barik, this is more than a truce. We must formalize this with the elders' agreement. We can ally with our people and her pack. They can be the guards we can't afford to lose!"
Agreement. Conditional, cautious, but unmistakable agreement.
Eris smiled under his breath. Kaylah let out a tiny sigh of relief. Even Cugat muttered, "Well, I'll be damned…"
"Cugat, tell the men to start cutting! Give them their share first! Give them enough to satisfy their hunger and show our sincerity," Barik commanded, his tone grim. We take the price of the meat now, so we don't pay the price of blood later."
Barik commanded, his tone grim but decisive. "The rest goes on the cart. We move fast."
Jag's gaze swept across the hunters, then back to Barik, acknowledging the human's final command. And with the calm authority of the newly crowned Alpha, she turned to her pack and issued a low command.
The wolves approached the raw glass-back remains, not in a frenzy, not in desperation, but in controlled, orderly lines, taking only what Jag allowed.
A new rhythm settled over the clearing.
Wolves fed. Jag licked her chops, satisfied.
Barik stared at the submissive wolves, and then at the massive glass-back carcass in the rear of the cave. He swallowed hard. It was a humiliating tax, but an undeniable necessity. An alliance with a compliant wolf pack was better than a continued siege.
Humans guarded and watched.
And for the first time in decades, as the two species stood side-by-side, sharing the spoils of the earth:
They were not enemies.
Not quite allies.
But something new…
something balanced,
fragile,
and powerful.
A beginning.
***