Noemi first mistook the figure for a wandering husky, but as it climbed from the surf she saw the truth: shoulders too broad, snout too long, fangs bared in effortless malice. A wild wolf—an apex hunter that could sprint faster than she could scream—was stalking the same quiet shore she had chosen for safety.
Its molten‑yellow stare pinned her in place, and every fact she had ever read flooded back: wolves can sense fear, their bite crushes bone, their endurance outlasts fleeing prey for miles. The empty beach now felt like a narrow cage, the distant cottages laughably far.
The animal’s paws spread like black stars on wet sand, closing the gap with soundless confidence. No growl, no warning—just lethal curiosity. Noemi’s pulse pounded so loudly she feared it might trigger the attack. She forced her lungs to hold steady, aware that a single flinch could ignite raw survival instinct in the beast before her.