A Werewolf's Unexpected Mate-Chapter 104: Unnatural Strength

•Thunoa Southwest Forest•

[Kai’s POV]

The rhythmic, monotonous creak of the wagon wheels and the steady, dull clop of the horses’ hooves were the only sounds breaking the deep, watchful silence of the forest. In the prisoner’s own wagon, which we led behind ours, they lay in an unconscious heap, their unnatural slumber so deep not even the wagon’s jostling could stir them. Meanwhile, in our wagon, my men and I sat in a comfortable, sated silence, the shared meal from Mrs. Melinda a warm, pleasant weight in our stomachs, its rich aromas still clinging to the air.

I tore off a large piece of the stew meat with my teeth, its rich, savory flavor bursting on my tongue. The herbs were fresh, so tender from slow cooking. "This is so good," I mumbled around the mouthful, my words slightly garbled. "Mrs. Melinda could convince a king to abandon his throne for her cooking."

"You’re right," Shin replied, his voice as flat and even as a still pond. He was nibbling with surgical precision on a fluffy pancake, his expression so impassive he might as well have been tasting stale field rations. He possessed the unique ability to make devouring a feast look like a tedious, mandatory duty.

Curiosity, a habit I’d never shaken, got the better of me. "Shin," I began, swallowing the hearty bite. "What do you think of the Silverhowl princess?"

At my side, Mon, Shin’s ever-present monkey, suddenly froze. He stopped shredding his banana, his tiny, wrinkled head swiveling toward me with unnatural speed. His dark, intelligent eyes were wide, fixed on me with an intensity that felt almost human.

What is this monkey’s problem?

Shin paused mid-bite. His fingertips came to rest on his chin, a rare, almost theatrical gesture of deep thought for him. "Hmmm," he hummed, a low, considering sound. "She’s strong. I think Silverhowl has a promising princess." He delivered this significant assessment with the same neutral, report-giving tone one might use to describe a clear sky, then took another methodical, unhurried bite of his pancake.

"Strong?" I pressed, tearing into a piece of fried rabbit with my fingers. The skin crackled. "Mentally? Physically? You’ve got to give me more than that."

"Both," he stated, the single word offering no further illumination.

I groaned in frustration, waving my piece of rabbit for emphasis. "Shin, I need an actual explanation, you know. Context. Details. The stuff that makes a story."

He chewed his food with infuriating slowness, fixing me with a look that clearly said, ’This line of questioning is beneath my concern and a waste of calories.’

I stared back, my own expression pleading, ’I’m genuinely curious! Humor me!’ We held this entire silent conversation while both still chewing, a ridiculous standoff over lunch.

He finally swallowed and let out a short, put-upon sigh, a clear sign of relenting. "When Mon returned to the inn without you all, I was... concerned. For the structural integrity of the mission. And for Ace and Ray’s efficiency." He took another deliberate bite, making me wait.

"You know, Shin, you’re a real tease when you tell a story," I complained my shoulders slumping.

He shot me a look that said, ’My narrative pace is not yours to command,’ and swallowed again.

"I found Ovelia. She was engaged with the stray werewolf. Alone. Armed with a knight’s sword." For the first time, a flicker of something—not emotion, but the intense, sharp focus of a tactician analyzing data—passed behind his eyes.

"Her eyes... they had a faint, unnatural crimson glow. Her technique was unpolished, raw, instinctual. But she was parrying the beast’s attacks. The strength behind her blocks was not that of a regular human. The kinetic force was all wrong." He paused, and I saw a faint, almost imperceptible shadow of analytical disappointment cross his features.

"But then, it vanished. All of it. Drained away in an instant, like a plug had been pulled." He looked down at his now-empty lunchbox.

"The werewolf threw her into a tree. But something was strange. It was as if the wind itself cushioned her fall, reducing the force of the impact. That was when our pack’s former assassin, Ann, arrived for the rescue. I detected your team’s approach vector and determined my presence was no longer required for mission parameters. I returned to the inn with Mon." Having finished his story, he closed his lunchbox with a definitive, final snap.

"A human female who can go one-on-one with a werewolf, even for a minute," I mused. The information was staggering. "I heard she was adopted. Do you think there’s a bloodline there? Something from the Amethyst Kingdom? King Alfred’s son, Zephyr, is known for his superhuman strength."

"A plausible hypothesis," Shin conceded, nodding once. "However, after all these years, there have been no credible rumors of a missing royal from King Alfred’s house. No whispers, no searches. The statistical probability is low." His logic was, as always, cold and impeccable.

I swallowed my last bite. "I see your point." I said, already reaching for another piece of fried rabbit from a shared pouch.

"But I meant what I said. She’s tough in here, too. Must be because of her past." He said, his expression not changing even a fraction. "From what I’ve gathered, her non-biological parents treated her as a slave. Their cruelty culminated in designating her as a ’peace sacrifice’—a transactional offering to the werewolf pack to become a mate, a role their biological daughter was spared from."

The casual delivery of such a horrific truth made the rabbit taste like ash in my mouth. His intel was always chillingly precise.

"That kind of trauma either breaks you or forges you into something harder," I muttered.

"Maybe. It typically explains the resilience. But thinking about it again, when I saw her fight... something was not right... that strength... it didn’t feel like that. It felt different. Something else was there." He continued, his gaze distant now, analyzing the memory.

Something not right? Now my curiosity was fully alight again. I closed my lunchbox, the latch clicking shut. "What do you mean by not—"

SNAP.

The sound cracked through the forest like a gunshot. It was too heavy, too deliberate for a squirrel or a deer. It was the sound of a booted foot, carelessly or confidently placed.

My eyes snapped to Shin. He was already a statue, and a monkey jumped on his shoulder. Shin’s head tilted slightly, his entire body coiled with a predator’s stillness. Every muscle was taut, his ears practically twitching as he filtered the forest’s sounds. He had heard it too.

"Something’s coming," he said, his voice dropping to a low, urgent whisper that carried no further than my ears.

I was on my feet in an instant, the comfortable atmosphere vaporizing. My voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the false calm. "EVERYONE, ON GUARD! FORM A PERIMETER AROUND THE WAGON!"