The Lost Hound

The Lost Hound received an Honorable Mention in the 2026 Writers of the Future Contest and is presented here as a sample of my fiction.

Diedre struggled against the barbed-wire net, but it only bit deeper into her skin. One strand had sliced clean across the artery in her neck, her pulse weakening with every beat. She was the last of her pack alive. Shifting now would only tear her apart. It won’t be long now.

“At least I took out the last Hound of Hell,” she muttered, forcing a bitter laugh, tasting blood on her tongue. Her wooden spear still trembled where it had buried itself in the black wolf’s throat, not ten feet away. This pack had been tormenting the Colville Pack for months. They finally got them cornered near the borders of their territory, when everything went sideways in a hurry.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

Her parents had put a blade in her hand before she could ever shift forms. And when she finally transformed for the first time . . .  the lessons only grew harsher. Sharper. More urgent.

But that was only a couple of months ago.

All around her was death. She never imagined all that training would end here—tangled, bleeding out, and helpless.

Some warrior, she thought bitterly as her vision began to blur. Maybe it’s better this way.

Her mind began to drift to an image of her parents smiling at her when she last saw them in their human forms at the campfire’s edge. They had been bragging about Diedre’s progress to the other pack members as the rising embers from the fire only added to the sparkle already in their eyes.

“Eyes . . .” she whispered as she felt her pulse spread out into eternity.

“THERE’S SOMEONE ALIVE OVER HERE!” A young girl’s voice rang out not far from her, forcing her to open her heavy lids. Hands pressed tightly on her wound, and she found herself gasping. “It’s alright,” the girl’s voice fell like a warm blanket over her. “I’ve got you. I’m not going to let you die.”

A tall man with a black beard leaned over her, the sound of metal being clipped pinging in her sensitive wolf ears. How did I not hear them walk up to me? The trap loosened, the girl’s hands didn’t. “You’re doing great, Sarah,” the man’s voice was deep and comforting as well. “Once I get her out of this, she’ll be able to shift and that will heal most of the wounds, but don’t let go of that even when she’s back in her human form.”

“Okay, Daddy.” The last word from the girl made Diedre open her eyes even wider. How old is this kid?

“This will help you heal and help you rest,” the man shoved a bitter bundle of herbs down her throat right before she started to feel the warmth of her wolf form leaving her. She felt a blanket get tossed on her naked form, and then the girl’s hands were pulled away. As her eyelids became too heavy to hold open, she was vaguely aware of tiny pokes and something pulling at her neck.

***

It had been a year since she’d allowed herself to think of that moment. The sting in her throat—real or imagined—flashed through her, and suddenly she was back in the net. Back in the one place she had sworn she’d never be again. The only moment in her life when she had been completely vulnerable.

But staring into the eyes of a Black Shuck in the woods outside of Sultan, Washington had torn that memory open. Those red eyes pierced straight through her and dragged every bit of weakness she’d tried to bury since that day out from the darkest corners of her mind.

“This can’t be happening,” she screamed at the top of her lungs, as Jayna, their driver, floored the gas and sped away from the Black Shuck. Diedre had shifted to human form and was struggling with her shirt as she fought to look away from those piercing red eyes of the Black Shuck. How Sarah, who had only a pane of glass between herself and the beast managed to keep her cool was beyond Diedre’s comprehension. “Paul said he saw Conall fighting an Ulfhedinn, not a Black Shuck!”

“Calm down, Diedre,” Jayna shouted at the panicked girl, her voice sharp over the roar of the engine. Diedre wrestled her jean shorts on and held Jayna’s clothes tight to her chest as if cuddling a teddy bear for comfort. The Black Shuck had broken her. Something snapped her back to that moment of helplessness and when all hope felt lost.

Diedre helped Jayna into her top as they pulled out to the highway entrance. A trail of dust heading west was the only clue that the Jeep was still ahead of them. Jayna put the suburban in park, tore her jeans out of Diedre’s hands, and slid into them behind the driver’s seat. Sarah kept glancing back out of the back, leaving Diedre even more worried that the Black Shuck would come crashing through at any second. Just when she thought her heart would burst from panic, Jayna floored the Suburban’s gas pedal and lurched them onto the rural highway.

It wasn’t until many miles and hours later that Diedre realized that somewhere along the way they had picked up Paul, injured and stuck in his wolf form. They arrived at their new camp in Home, Washington and everything seemed a blur as they piled out of the suburban. Caitland, Sarah’s aunt, ran for the tailgate and opened it up. Sarah ran around to help while another healer, Assana, guided the shocked Diedre into the house.

Diedre was barely aware of anything outside of Assana’s grip. She whispered lightly in her ear, “There, there, Diedre. You’re safe now. No need to fear.” It wasn’t until the older woman sat Diedre on a bed in the upstairs of the large cabin at the center of the camp that she realized she had been gripping Assana’s arms tight enough to make her bleed.

“I’m…,” words escaped Diedre. “I’m sorry, Assana,” she whispered as a fresh set of tears washed her cheeks.

“I’m fine, Diedre. Just you lay down here for a while ’til you get to feeling better.”

“Yeah,” Diedre agreed, “I really should rest.” She lay down on her side and Assana covered her with a soft quilt. It’s apparently all that I’m good for these days. She brought her knees to her chest and clutched them as the memory of those red eyes resurfaced, sending shivers down her spine. Closing her eyes didn’t help. In fact, closing her eyes made those red pits of hell more vivid.

Sometime later, Assana came back with an herbal drink. It tasted sweet and earthy. Soon she drifted off to sleep—memories fading into dreams.

#

The red eyes swirled into nothingness until all she could see was a deep abyss. She felt herself falling until she finally found herself pleading, “Oh, please, God, no.”

Light flooded her eyes so quickly, she had to guard them from its radiance. Slowly, she adjusted, and she realized she had stopped falling and was on solid ground. A large, gray wolf stood before her—a magnificent animal. Diedre could tell it was one of her own—a Hound of Heaven. Something about it seemed confused. Slowly, it turned back into a teenage boy about her age. She held a hand between herself and certain body parts, but his eyes… she couldn’t help but be pulled into them.

They were everything opposite of the Black Shuck. They were confused, darting, and there was worry in them. A part of her heart reached out to him. She chuckled a little as he lifted a bloody chicken leg and then quickly dropped it. It was just then that Diedre realized he was covered in blood.

“It’s just chicken blood,” an ethereal voice soothed her worries.

“Who is he?” she ventured the question into the blaze of light surrounding them both.

“He is someone who needs you,” the voice sounded like it was over her shoulder, but she dared not turn to look. “He doesn’t know who he is.”

“So he’s real and not a dream?”

“He can wait for now,” a hand clutched her shoulder gently from behind, “Sarah needs you.”

#

When Diedre woke with a start, she heard Sarah downstairs, clearly upset about something. Diedre wiped the sleep from her eyes and stumbled downstairs. She overheard that there was an Ulfhedinn at the lake, fighting Conall. As a pack, they flooded the old, dried lakebed with gray pelts as they searched for signs of the boy. Assana stayed near her and guided Diedre around as they searched for a scent.

David, Sarah’s father and the pack leader, finally called off the search. Diedre could tell there was something odd about it, but to be honest, she was afraid that it was going to end up like Sultan—running face-first into a Black Shuck. She was relieved when they were ordered back to camp.

Later that night, Diedre heard that Sarah had snuck off to rescue Conall. It wasn’t until early morning, when the sun was just about to come over the treetops, that what was left of those who had gone to help Sarah showed back up at camp, many covered in wounds that needed tending. Over the next few days, Diedre busied herself by helping Assana tend to the wounded.

Rumors of what had happened abounded. The only thing that brought Diedre any comfort was the rumor that a Black Shuck had died in the battle. Once that rumor reached her ears, a burden slightly lifted from her shoulders. That night, the dream returned.

#

The air around her lightened, and she felt herself floating. Two points of light opened in the dark ahead—headlights. She drifted closer.

A gray wolf stepped into the beams. Not a Shuck. One of hers. He shifted into a half‑wolf, half‑boy—about her age. He looked past her like he was bracing for something he couldn’t stop.

“A law…” a woman’s voice snapped from the glare. He flinched.

“Mom! No!” he shouted, reaching toward a shape that flickered at the edge of the light and was gone.

Diedre couldn’t see faces, only movement and the feel of it—fear, guilt, that stubborn thread of courage that refused to snap.

His voice came low, steady, like he was repeating something he needed to remember: “Never kill the innocent.”

He moved—one hand catching, the other driving forward—and the figure in front of him fell back and faded out of the beam. Sirens started up somewhere distant, thin and lonely.

He turned as if he could hear Diedre breathing, eyes meeting hers for the first time.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Whelan.”

The blinding light that had surrounded her was replaced by the darkness of the early morning hours as she felt pushed back into the emptiness of her room. Two words rang in the stillness, clear as if someone had spoken beside her bed:

Find him.

“What the hell was that?” she spoke, half expecting an answer. No one responded, just the chirping of birds as the sun began to rise over their camp. She hurried out of bed and got dressed as fast as she could.

She flung open her bedroom door and ran downstairs, towards the den. David would be there by now, for sure.

Diedre opened the solid oak door that was only one of two ways into this room. It had no windows and the only other door to get in here was on the opposite wall. The only source of light was the fireplace, where David was squatted by, feeding the fire, flames highlighting the dark features of his face.

“Diedre,” he stood after tossing a log in the fire, “You’re up early. Is there something I can help you with?” His massive frame towered over her as he came to full height. His dark hair and eyes were a stark contrast to his pale skin. He reminded Diedre of a biker from one of those side-of-the-road bars where they motorcyclists would gather in the summers.

“David, I had a dream,” she plopped on one of the couches that circled the fireplace, while David sat himself in a large, wooden chair with armrests that seemed polished with age and use. He stroked his beard as he sat back and listened. That’s what she liked about their pack leader—he always listened to even the youngest of the pack. Maybe that’s what made him such a great pack leader. He nodded to her, urging her to continue.

As she relayed her first dream and then the second one, he leaned in closer. At one point, he was near the edge of his seat. And when the dream was finished, he sat back and stroked his beard as he gazed into the firelight. “It seems the heavens have spoken,” he spoke in nearly a whisper as he held his head still, but turned his gaze from the fire to her. “You need to find this boy.”

“But where do I find him?” Diedre threw her hands into the air. “And why me? I’m the worst possible person in the world for such a task.” She shook her head, her wild hair slapping her cheeks, “Besides… I’m not a tracker. I don’t have the nose for this kind of job.”

Diedre felt a hand on her shoulder, and when she looked up, David had quietly gotten up from his seat and now knelt so that he was eye level with her. He gave her shoulder a soft, but firm squeeze—the kind you give a child when you’re trying to console them or make them feel better. “First off, you’ve only had two dreams. Secondly, Heaven doesn’t miss its mark.”

“But what if it did?” Tears formed at the edges of her eyes, beginning to blur her vision. “I’m not fit to find someone, let alone a lost someone, when I feel lost myself!” She wiped the tears from her face with the backs of her hands. “See! I’m a mess!” She sniffed and wiped the fresh tears that came pouring down. “I’m only seventeen! I’m not like Jayna or Paul, ready to dive into whatever they are handed. I’m Diedre who freezes up when faced with the sight of two red eyes.” She plopped back against the back of the couch, falling out of David’s grasp.

“Like I said,” David returned to his chair and smiled at her softly. It reminded her of her father’s smile when he had comforted her when she was a pup. “This is only the second dream.”

Suddenly realizing what he had said earlier, a part of her felt embarrassed for not paying attention to him and solely focusing on herself. “There are going to be more?” David nodded with the same comforting smile on his face. “How many more?”

“As many as it takes to get you to where the dream is leading you,” he winked at the end, a bit of mischief behind his wise eyes.

“So, there could be dozens?”

“I’ve never heard of that many,” he chuckled a little at her response, “but there are no less than three.” He held up three fingers and quoted, “‘In the mouth of two or three witnesses shall every word be established.’ And, in my experience, people with these kinds of messages get them in threes.”

“So, what do I do? Go to bed each night, praying for the last dream?”

“That’s the thing about these things,” he pointed to the fireplace, where the log he had set on there when she had first come into the den was already nearly consumed. “Some things take time, and others go quickly like that log.”

“So, you’re saying I need to be patient?”

David waved his hand at the fire, “You see that log in the back that’s still burning slow? Compared to that last log I put on, it’s taking its own sweet time getting to where it will eventually become—a pile of ashes. What I’m saying by that, is that everything happens in its own due time. It’s not up to you or me when something happens, just if we’re worthy of it.”

“Worthy of it,” she echoed questioningly.

“These visions are blessings. They help you become who you were meant to be.” The fire popped, sending a spark out close to David’s feet. Instead of stomping it out, he went on as he watched the ember die. “See that little ember?” He got up and knelt by the little piece of burnt wood from the fire. It had already gone black, showing it had released its heat. He picked it up in his fingers and continued, “By itself—outside of where it was meant to be—it isn’t much of anything. Cold, dark… alone.” That word sank home. Ever since the Black Shuck she had focused on the fact that she was technically all that was left of the Colville Pack. “But, if we help this little ember get back to where it belongs,” David dropped it right on top of the other log. Instantly, it started to glow red again.

Diedre nodded silently, taking it all in. “So, I need to focus on being a better…,” Diedre trailed off into a whisper, “me…” David just winked and sat back in his chair.

“Dad,” Sarah called as she entered the room, breaking the silence that had settled over the two of them. “Oh! I’m sorry. Did you need a moment?”

“No,” Diedre replied, keeping her back to her as she wiped the last of her tears away. She turned around and put on her bravest smile she could muster, “Your dad was just giving me some well-timed advice.”

“I could come back later,” Sarah tried to intercede, but Diedre stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.

“I’m fine—no, not fine, but I’m going to be.” Without another word, she passed through the door that Sarah had left open and marched into the morning light. 

Over the next couple of days, Diedre took her role in the pack seriously. She tended to the wounded that were in camp. She helped in the herb garden. She then volunteered to take over dinner duty for Caitland who had been a little more than overwhelmed by all of the cooking and extra duties she had taken on. She even helped Aiyana, another stray with red hair that they had picked up while rescuing Conall. Apparently, she had helped save his life. That had earned her a spot at the pack’s table, but Sarah never seemed to trust her. That left Diedre as one of the only other girls their age to get her acquainted with their pack.

“Thanks for letting me help you cook dinner for the pack,” Aiyana remarked while she poured some cut vegetables into a broth that they had going in a large kettle over an outside fire. “The Hounds of Hell don’t normally cook their food, and the food they gave me came cooked already.”

“No one taught you about cooking?” Diedre chuckled as she added a tray of vegetables to the pot that she had cut. “Did they order take-out or something for you all of the time?”

“What’s take-out?”

“Oh yeah,” Diedre wiped some of her wild hair out of her eyes as she recalled that Conall had said Aiyana had been trapped in a cave for many years with the Hounds of Hell. “Take-out is when you order food from some place and they cook it and send it to you.”

It was Aiyana’s turn to laugh. “Give me that food. Right now. Because I want it,” she made a stern face and pretended to be ordering people around. To see it made Diedre laugh.

Caitland walked up as the girls continued to giggle and dropped the last of their vegetables into the pot. “You two sound like you’re having fun.”

“Loads,” Aiyana put her cutting board and knife on the table. “I told one of the cubs I would play a game with them when I got done here. Thanks for the laughs, Diedre.” And she was off in a flash of red.

“At least she has you,” Caitland commented as she stirred the stew.

“Me?” Diedre questioned Caitland.

“Yeah,” Caitland tasted the broth and then grabbed some seasonings from the table, adding a few more spices to the bubbling mixture. “Sarah doesn’t trust her, and won’t go near her. Jealousy, if you ask me, but at least Aiyana has you she can talk to.”

To hear that someone was relying on her made Diedre feel a little dizzy. The dreams she had about the boy suddenly came crashing back to her in full force, causing her head to spin. “Sorry, Caitland, but I think I need to take a nap before dinner.”

“Go on, child,” Caitland waved her on with her large wooden spoon, “I’ve got this now. You’ve been more than enough help.”

Diedre barely made it to her bed before the room spun out from under her.

Black. No up, no down. Then light tore through the dark and she was hanging over the Earth, weightless. The words came the way they always did, settled deeper this time: “In the beginning there was Light and Dark… balance in the universe as we know it.”

She fell—arms streaming behind her like a banner—and stopped over a high ridge washed in moonlight. People lifted their faces to the moon and shifted in a breath: large, gray wolves, steady as stone. “That balance needed a check system. We are that system…”

A blink, and she stood outside a weathered café along an old road. A bus idled. The boy—her boy from the first dream—worked on a granola bar, eyes on the open door like he was talking himself into moving. A hand warmed Diedre’s shoulder.

“He needs you.”

“I know.” Tears welled fast. “But… why me?”

“Because you need him, too.” A pause. “His mother was one of yours.”

“Seattle?” Diedre asked, even though her chest already knew.

“No. Colville.” The hand squeezed, and the truth landed. “You two are what’s left.”

She swallowed hard. “How am I supposed to find him?”

“Head east,” the voice said. “You’ll know where to be, and when.”

The boy climbed aboard. The doors shut. Diedre felt the ground slide, then a gentler shake.

“Diedre?” Caitland’s voice pulled her back. She opened her eyes to the dim room, cheeks wet.

“You were crying in your sleep. Are you alright, sweetheart?”

Diedre sat up and wiped the moisture from her face. “I’m fine,” she sniffed a little and noticed that it had gotten dark. “I need to talk to David.”

“He’s down at dinner with everyone else,” Caitland helped Diedre to her feet. “If it’s a private word, it will have to wait until dinner is over.”

Whether it was out of empathy for the boy, or the fact that she had worked all afternoon, Diedre wasn’t certain, but she couldn’t seem to get enough stew that night. Every bite reminded her of the boy’s hungry look. It was like eating would somehow feed him. Once dinner was over, the leaders all met with David at the main table in the clearing surrounded by the cabins of the camp. It was dark when the last of them finally left his side.

As if he sensed her gaze, David turned and looked straight at Diedre and waved her over. The rest of the pack had started cleaning the tables. Pups and adults alike were all busy gathering dishes and heading to the wash tubs. Diedre dodged around busy people as she made her way to David’s side.

“You’ve had your third dream,” he laid it out blatantly.

“How could you tell?”

“It’s written all over your face.” He pointed a finger and waved it in a circle towards her face. “There’s something that wasn’t there before.”

“And what’s that?”

His eyes sparkled in the light of the lanterns that were being turned on around them. “Determination.”

The word hit her hard, but it had sunk true to the heart of what she was feeling. “I need to tell you about what I saw,” she said as she sat in a chair next to his.

She related everything that had happened in this new vision, being careful not to leave out any details. The whole time, he listened intently, nodding at times. Once she was through, he called over one of the leaders that had been at the table before her. He whispered something in the woman’s ear and she ran off in a flash.

A few minutes later, the woman returned with a satchel. It was mostly empty, but Diedre could feel something that felt like a book in it. “What is it,” she asked as she started to open the pack, but David’s hand stopped her.

“Not here, not now,” his eyes were serious, not jovial as before.

“When?”

“Just promise me, as you pack, you will not open the book inside. Please wait until you’re on your way before you open it.” His grip tightened as he spoke.

“I promise,” was her response and he let go of her hand.

“The side pouch has some money,” he pointed to a bulging side pouch. “Spend what you need to make your way to this lost hound.” He fell back in his seat, clearly fatigued. “Just promise to return as soon as you are able,”

“Then you best be on your way, Diedre.” He waved her off as she stood from her chair. “May the angels guard you on every road, and may God hold you in the palm of His hand.”

Diedre ran off to her room and packed clothes around the book. She kept the lights off in her room so she wouldn’t break her promise, using her heightened wolf senses to discern what she was packing. She made sure to keep the book flat against the bag where it would rest against her back. Once she had her clothes, she rushed to the pantry and shoved plenty of dried meats into small bags and then into the satchel. She grabbed dried fruits and granola, and packed them separately, next to the meats.

Finally, she went to the weapons room. There, all across the walls, glinted blades of various makes and sizes made of obsidian and wood. She hoped she wouldn’t need them, but everyone was required to carry at least one weapon if they left camp. The Hounds of Hell, unlike Diedre’s kind, were vulnerable to weapons made of natural elements. No silver bullets could stop them. That was a myth that the Hounds of Hell had spread to get her kind killed. Anything man-made could kill her kind with ease.

She chose twin obsidian knives and a whip woven from hemp with shards of obsidian tied at lengths of the whip. She rolled it up quickly and accidentally cut herself. She licked the blood off her hand out of reflex as she watched the cut heal like it had never been there. She tucked it into her satchel towards the back and closed the top.

With everything ready, she walked east, down the road of their camp, towards the little town they lived on the outskirts of. She walked between the sentries that were living in small huts on either side of the road. They waved as she passed them and into town. It was dark, but that didn’t matter. She had her mission. She had her mind made. She would not come back without the boy.

#

Diedre walked along the blacktop road that led north, out of the little town of Home, Washington, and into the tall forest that surrounded it. A mixture of deciduous trees, evergreens, and ferns—Diedre loved the smell. Once she got into the first bend in the road, just out of sight from the last lights of the main village, she ducked off the east side of the road, behind some blackberry bushes.

Once hidden, she stripped down and carefully packed her clothes into the satchel. After fastening the satchel around her, she dropped down to all fours as she shifted into her wolf form. Traveling swiftly through the woods, she followed a path that some of the pack members had marked as safe to follow. When she reached the community of Wauna, the lights got closer together and they blocked her only path east, the Purdy Spit. She shifted to her human form and got dressed. She would have to hike about two miles to reach the transit stop.

By the time she reached the bus stop, the last bus of the night was pulling in for its last pick-up. She hopped on, paid her fare, and took a nap. Dreams didn’t come, and the only reason she woke was because the bus driver kindly reminded her it was his last stop for the night.

“Any other buses run this late?” She hoped she could get further east than Tacoma on her first day.

“Sorry, but no,” he said with a sad smile. “If you don’t mind,” he motioned to the door, “I’ve got a wife and kids at home waiting for me.”

Diedre gathered her satchel which she’d used for a pillow and hopped off the bus. As she watched the taillights disappear into the foggy night, her options were looking limited. Looking east, she could see a few cars that were left behind in the parking lot. She turned and marched off into the foggy night. Cars ghosted past her as she walked down South 19th Street. What worried her was the Tacoma Aroma—the heavy stench of paper mills and industry, harsh and unfriendly to a wolf’s senses.

After a while, she couldn’t stand it anymore. She hailed a run-down cab she noticed passing and hopped in without a second look back. The cab’s interior was only a slight improvement over outside. “Where to,” the cabby called from the front. It was kind of old-timey, complete with a plastic divider.

“Um, how much to Monroe?”

“The street or the city, kid?”

“The city,” she said as she flashed some cash.

“It’s not gonna be cheap,” he lifted a flatcap and scratched his head, “Two-hundred, cash up front.”

“How about half now and half when we get there?” Diedre held up two stacks of twenties, one closer to the hole in the plastic. The driver snatched the first hundred and pulled back into traffic. They rode I‑5 north through Seattle and Lynnwood, then cut east toward Maltby and on to Monroe.

As they left Maltby behind in the darkness, the driver called back, “Anywhere in particular you’re headed in Monroe?”

“You can drop me at the high school.” This was a place that their pack had used for drop-offs before they were forced out of their previous camp because of a betrayal to the Hounds of Hell. Going back through territory claimed by the Hounds of Hell was risky—but every instinct in her said she was on the right track.

The driver chuckled, “Should have known it was for young love!” Diedre pretended that she’d been caught and giggled a little to sell it. About ten minutes later, they pulled into Monroe High School’s parking lot. It was vacant, which is exactly what she had hoped for. A light mist had started to come down and the driver looked a little concerned as he took her cash. “You sure you don’t want me to stick around ’til your ride shows? No extra charge.” He looked around the empty lot and all of the dark spaces and Diedre could almost read his thoughts, “I mean, a girl like you in a place like this after dark might end you in trouble—the kind you don’t want.”

“No thanks,” she replied as she climbed out into the misty evening, “I’m good.” After a hesitant look back, the driver drove back in the direction they had come, leaving Diedre under the lights in the parking lot. The mist gathered on her skin and clothes in fine droplets as she breathed in a deep breath of fresh air. Familiar scents filled her nose and she almost forgot why she was there.

Turning a little southeast, she headed to the nearby Skykomish River. That was one of her pack’s old routes. It was one they used to lose anyone foolish enough to follow. The trail slipped through the woods and split. North led eventually to Highway 20 and their old base camp; south and east followed the Skykomish River toward Gold Bar and Highway 2. As tempting as it was to go see the old camp—it’d only been a few weeks since they had abandoned it—she didn’t want to take the risk. The Skykomish River paralleled Highway 2 and that was the way she felt she could go. From here on out, she could travel in wolf form and not worry too much.

By the time it was about eleven at night, she had pushed herself and gotten to Gold Bar, a little stop on Highway 2 that she normally liked to make. She paused in a thicket near the river’s edge, took her half-wolf form and rummaged through her satchel for a piece of jerky. Running was burning up calories and she had to keep a steady lope if she wanted to make Wenatchee by morning.

In wolf form, she and her kind were much larger than normal wolves. Her gait was faster than a normal wolf’s, but even loping took a lot out of her as the terrain varied quite a bit. Sometimes she had to slow down to keep a proper footing near the deep channels carved by the river.

She pressed on, making it through Stevens Pass. She took a short break at the summit before starting the long stretch toward Wenatchee. She chanced the road on occasion, as it was well past midnight by the time she started her descent. Well, mostly descent. There were still a few hills to climb, especially the first part of that leg of her journey.

By the time the sun was peeking from behind the mountains, Diedre had found a few low-hung willows whose branches interwove near the river’s edge. She shifted back to human, changed into her clothes, and curled up in the cool morning air with her satchel. A few hours rest, and then she could hike to town. If memory served right, there was a bus line she might be able to catch to Spokane tomorrow. She would try to get a ticket there, as it would take her two or three more days at this pace, and she felt like time was getting shorter.

She woke to someone kicking her foot.

The sun was high overhead now, casting broken shadows through the willow branches. A ranger stood over her who looked like he’d slept in his uniform. His black hair shone where the light slipped between the leaves above them. His dark, black eyes flicked from her to her pack, then back again.

“Sorry, miss!”

“What seems to be the problem?”

“Oh—no problem,” he said quickly. His gaze drifted back to her satchel again. “We just got word of a large wolf in the area. Saw you sleeping here and thought I’d warn you.”

“Do you need to see my ID or something?” she asked.

She turned slightly away and took a slow, careful sniff of the air. She had his scent. Her hand slipped into the satchel and closed around one of the obsidian knives she had packed.

When she turned back, the ranger’s body twisted and reshaped. Fur burst through his skin as he collapsed forward into a massive black wolf.

A Hound of Hell.

“I’m pretty sure I know who you are,” it snarled as it hurled itself at her.

Diedre rolled aside, shifting to her half-wolf form just in time, and came up with the blade in her hand. A flicker of fear passed through the creature’s cold eyes when it saw the obsidian. Its gaze darted to the pile of clothes it had shed moments earlier.

Diedre felt a sudden, sinking dread.

In a flash, she feinted right—but dove left as the Hound lunged toward the clothes. Her knife drove deep into its shoulder. The beast howled, ripping her off and throwing her hard into the dirt by the riverbank.

She spat mud from her mouth and looked up just in time to see the ranger—in its half-wolf form—grabbing for the pistol on his belt. She heard the pop of leather.

Her satchel lay just within reach.

In one practiced motion, she cartwheeled toward the bag. Her hand landed perfectly on the second knife. Using the rest of the motion, she hurled the blade straight at the Hound as it raised the gun.

The knife struck with a sickening thump.

It buried to the hilt between the creature’s ribs.

The Hound staggered, then collapsed. As it fell, it changed once more—this time into an enormous black wolf. Its tongue slipped from the side of its mouth as it rolled onto its back and drew its final breath.

Diedre scanned the ground, searching for any sign of tracks where he had come from.

After changing into a fresh set of clothes, she followed his trail back to his truck.

It wasn’t even a real ranger vehicle. Just an old, beat-up Chevy.

She ran back to the body, fished the keys from the ranger’s discarded clothes, and returned to the truck. The Hounds of Hell rarely bothered with legitimate vehicles. It was probably stolen.

She drove to the edge of town and pulled into an empty alley. Carefully, she wiped down everything she might have touched.

Then she left the keys in the middle of the seat for someone else to find. She calmly walked away towards where she remembered the bus station being. With luck she’d get a bus to Spokane.

The smell of burgers overrode her desire to catch a bus. Diedre stumbled into a brick building called Rail Station—something. To be honest, after her fight, she was too hungry to care. She ordered the biggest burger they had and wolfed it down. Then she hopped over to the bus station and managed to get there in time for the one-twenty bus to Spokane.

She found a seat near the middle of the bus. Far enough away from the front that she wouldn’t draw attention, and far enough from the back so her wolf senses weren’t overwhelmed by the bathroom smell. She didn’t want to take the chance of running into another Hound of Hell.

The bus took off, and Diedre put her satchel up like a pillow again. Her belly full, her energy spent, and her relief overwhelming, she drifted quickly off to sleep. Another dream came quickly.

The light was blinding, but should make out a distant shape of a boy walking a street. It was raining. The voice from before returned.

“You’ll know him when you see him.”

“Where will I find him,” she pleaded. “How will I know how to get him to trust me?”

The vision shifted and a Greyhound bus emerged from the blinding light. She was able to read SEATTLE briefly on the destination board before her she was thrust into its interior. The boy was alone on the bus, one seat open next to them. “Find this lost Hound and tell them, ‘What your mother said was true. You need to find her pack. They will guide you and help you come to know who you truly are.’”

With a sudden jolt, she awoke. The bus had stopped quickly in the rain for a pedestrian that tried to cross the road in front of the bus. The driver yelled something at the person in the road, while Diedre turned to an old lady who had taken up the seat next to her while she was sleeping.

“Excuse me,” she tapped her softly.

The old woman turned towards her with a broad smile, “Oh, you’re not dead!” She joked with Diedre, and she couldn’t help but laugh while the old woman laughed at her own joke.

“Thanks, I needed the laugh,” Diedre confessed.

“I saw you sitting alone and thought, ‘That pretty girl shouldn’t sleep alone on a bus like this.’ So, I sat next to you while you were sleeping.”

“Thanks,” Diedre felt a little blush rise to her cheeks. She hadn’t had someone care about her like that in a long time. “But, what city are we in?”

“We just got into Spokane, sweety,” she smiled and patted Diedre’s knee.

“I slept a lot longer than I thought I would,” she confessed aloud—more to herself than to the woman.

“Well, you’re at least awake for our destination!” The bus pulled to a stop in the station and Diedre and the other passengers made their way off.

She looked around the station, but didn’t see or smell anybody that matched this boy. She circled the whole exterior of the station and then went to see if she could find a ticket counter. There wasn’t one, but she felt the need to get a ticket for the 10 PM bus that night.

She asked around and found a library not far from the bus station. She had to pay someone double the ticket cost to get them to buy the ticket for her because she didn’t have a credit or debit card. Then she grabbed a bite to eat at Dick’s Burgers. Then made her way back in the rain to the bus station.

 She got there just as the bus was pulling out. She waved her hands frantically and it stopped. “You just barely made it!” The bus driver chuckled as he let her on. She shook the rain out of her hair and shouldered her satchel before starting down the aisle. She caught his scent from the front of the bus. It was warm, like pine, and tinged by fear. But it mostly reminded her of somewhere she hadn’t thought of in years—home.

As the bus started moving, she followed her nose to a cute blond haired boy with a few days stubble on his cheeks. He was devilishly rogue-looking and she had a hard time taking her eyes off of him. She stood over him and pointed to the empty seat, “Mind if I sit here?”

As soon as she made eye contact with him, she felt a spark light a fire in her that she hadn’t felt before. “Go right ahead,” he responded as he sat up a little straighter in his seat. He was a little taller than her and she liked that.

She pulled her satchel into her lap. As the bus made its way towards the freeway, she opened up her backpack and started looking for the food she’d packed. Passengers all around them were settling down for the long night drive to Seattle, but not this boy. She held the jerky out to him. “Want some?” He snatched it up so fast she couldn’t hold back her pleasure. A smile played on her lips. “I like you, kid. What’s your name?”

“Whelan,” he said between bites.

“Whelan,” she echoed. “Name’s Diedre. Nice to meet you.” She felt herself blush a little and she fought to bring her heart rate back down. Finally, she got the nerve. “I have a message for you, Whelan.”

The sour smell of fear started to rise as he gripped his armrest with white knuckles. Quickly, she places her hand over his. It was much warmer than her own, and she found it comforting. “It’s alright. I’m here to help. I was told to find a lost Hound and tell them, ‘What your mother said was true. You need to find her pack. They will guide you and help you come to know who you truly are.’” He eased up in his chair and the smell of fear faded. The rush of pine surfaced even stronger. “I knew I’d be looking for a lost Hound, but I didn’t expect one so cute.” She laughed and pulled her hand back. She pulled a book out of her bag and handed it to Whelan. “You like reading?” He nodded and she tapped the cover. “This will fill you in on a lot. You’re going to find this interesting.”

He looked down and read the cover which was emblazoned in gold lettering: The History of the Hounds of Heaven. All at once, the smell of home flooded the space between them. He looked over at Diedre and smiled. “Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

A tear rolled down his cheek as he opened the book, sighed, and began to read.

The bus cut through the night, rain drumming softly against the glass. Streams of rain glided across the glass as she watched the city lights fade to the darkness of the open road. Diedre watched the reflection of the passing lights ripple across the aisle, then turned to Whelan.

He was reading now with more confidence, the book resting easily in his hands. “You were right,” he said quietly. “This feels… like something I’ve been missing.”

Diedre smiled, just a little. “That’s how it starts.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the steady scent of him—pine, resolve, belonging. The vision she’d seen hadn’t shown her battle or blood. It had shown her this.

A single empty seat next to a lost Hound.

A choice made instead of a chase.

For years, Diedre had been shaped into a weapon—pointed, sharpened, and spent. But weapons didn’t build futures. They only survived what the past had thrown at them by sure will alone.

As the road stretched out toward Seattle, she rested her hand over the satchel in her lap, clear of the weight of the book—the weight of her promise.

She wasn’t running anymore. She wasn’t lost. She had found her purpose. She would be his guide. She would be his shield.

And this time… she would not fail.