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Câu chuyện MidReal
Hunted Hearts: A Werewolf's Dilemma
Bối cảnh: I am a straight 19 year old female. I am a halfbreed werewolf, half human, half werewolf. Best of both worlds. Or so I thought. Now I'm being hunted by both humans and werewolves, and only my soulmate Max doesn't hate me. I have hyperthermia, because I got knocked int a snow bank and stayed overnight in a blizzard. Max just found me. I also have an arrow wound in my theigh from yesterday when a human shot at me.
Tạo phiên bản của tôi cho câu chuyện này
Elara Grey
hunted halfbreed werewolf, in a complex relationship with Max, slender with silver eyes and a scarred thigh, resilient and fiercely loyal.
Maxon "Max" Wolfe
Elara's protective soulmate and fellow werewolf, deeply connected to Elara, muscular with dark hair and amber eyes, stoic yet fiercely protective.
Sarah Jennings
Elara's human best friend turned enemy hunter, conflicted about her loyalties, petite with curly red hair and freckles, intelligent yet easily swayed.
I ran through the forest, my breaths coming out in short, sharp gasps.
My legs were burning, and my lungs felt like they were on fire.
I could hear the men behind me, their voices getting closer and closer.
They were hunting me, and I was running out of time.
I pushed myself harder, willing my body to go faster.
The snow was falling heavily around me, making it hard to see where I was going.
I stumbled over a tree root and fell to the ground.
Pain shot up my leg as I landed on my knees in the snow.
I tried to get up, but my leg wouldn’t hold my weight.
I had twisted it when I fell, and now I was stuck here in the middle of the forest with nowhere to hide.
The men were getting closer, their voices growing louder as they approached.
I could see their flashlights through the trees, shining brightly in the darkness.
I was out of time.
I lay in the snow, my leg throbbing from the arrow wound and the fresh twist.
My breath formed clouds in the frigid air, each exhale a desperate plea for survival.
The hunters' voices were closing in, panic rising like bile in my throat.
"Over here! I saw her fall!" one of them shouted.
I clenched my teeth, trying to suppress a whimper.
The cold was seeping into my bones, making it harder to think, harder to move.
Suddenly, a rustling sound came from the trees behind me.
I turned my head, heart pounding.
Max burst through the trees, his amber eyes scanning for danger.
"Elara!" he called out softly, his voice a mix of relief and urgency.
"Max," I whispered, barely able to get the word out.
He was at my side in an instant, lifting me effortlessly.
His warmth was a stark contrast to the biting cold that surrounded us.
I clung to him, shivering uncontrollably.
"We need to move," Max said, his voice low but firm. "They're close."
"I can't... my leg..." I stammered, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
"I've got you," he whispered, his eyes betraying his worry despite his calm demeanor.
Max adjusted his grip and started moving quickly, carrying me deeper into the forest.
Each step he took was sure and steady, but I could feel the tension in his muscles.
The hunters' flashlights flickered behind us, growing fainter with each passing second.
"Hold on," Max urged. "Just a little further."
My consciousness began to fade, the pain and exhaustion overwhelming me.
Max's heartbeat became my lullaby, a steady rhythm that kept me tethered to reality.
"Stay with me, Elara," he murmured. "We're almost there."
But even as he spoke, I could hear the hunters' voices again, louder this time.
They were relentless, closing in on us with every heartbeat.
"Max..." I tried to warn him, but my voice was barely a whisper.
He tightened his grip on me and picked up the pace.
The forest around us seemed to blur as we moved faster and faster.
Branches whipped past us, and the snow crunched under Max's boots.
Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed through the trees—a gunshot.
Max stumbled but didn't stop.
I felt something warm and wet on my back and realized with horror that it was blood.
"Max! You're hit!" I cried out, panic surging through me anew.
"I'm fine," he grunted through clenched teeth. "Just hold on."
But I could see the strain in his eyes, the way his steps faltered slightly.
We couldn't keep this up much longer.
Another gunshot rang out, closer this time.
Max swerved sharply to avoid it, nearly losing his balance.
We crashed through a thicket of bushes and emerged into a small clearing.
"There!" one of the hunters shouted. "I see them!"
Max's grip tightened around me as he pushed forward with renewed determination.
He reached a rocky outcrop and began rapping a sequence of knocks against the stone.
A hidden door creaked open, revealing the entrance to a cave.
"Almost there," he muttered, more to himself than to me.
With one final effort, Max stumbled over the frame of the cave entrance.
We both tumbled forward, and I hit the ground hard, rolling outside into the snow.
The cave door slammed shut behind us with a resounding thud.
I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the pain in my leg.
"Max!" I called out, panic rising in my chest.
I could hear him groaning weakly from inside the cave.
"Elara... I'm... I'm hurt," his voice was faint but clear enough to send a shiver down my spine.
I pounded on the cave door, but it didn't budge.
"Max! How do I open it?" I shouted, desperation creeping into my voice.
There was no response—only silence and the howling wind around me.
The realization hit me like a punch to the gut: Max was too injured to help, and I was locked out.
Reinforcements weren't due until tomorrow; I was on my own for the night.
I looked around frantically, but there was no shelter in sight—just endless snow and trees.
The cold was already seeping through my clothes, chilling me to the bone.
I had no wood to make a fire and no idea how to get back into the cave.
I pulled my coat tighter around me and huddled against the rocky outcrop for some semblance of warmth.
The wind picked up, carrying with it a flurry of snowflakes that stung my face.
I tried to stay awake, knowing that falling asleep could be dangerous in these conditions.
But exhaustion was creeping in, making it harder and harder to keep my eyes open.
Hours passed in a blur of cold and darkness.
The snow continued to fall heavily, piling up around me.
My body shook uncontrollably as hypothermia set in, making it difficult to think clearly.
At some point during the night, I must have drifted off because I woke up buried under a thick layer of snow.
My limbs felt heavy and numb, and my vision was blurry from the cold.
Through the haze, I saw a figure approaching—a silhouette against the blinding white landscape.
"Elara!" The voice was distant but familiar. "Hang on!"
Strong hands dug through the snow, pulling me free from my icy tomb.
I tried to speak but could only manage a weak croak as they lifted me up.
"You're going to be okay," they said firmly. "We've got you now."
Rescue had finally arrived.
I tried to stay conscious, but the darkness was too inviting, too overwhelming.
My vision blurred, and I succumbed to the black void.
Inside the cave, Max lay on the hard rocky floor, his breathing shallow and labored.
He had managed to dig the bullet out of his wound with trembling hands, but the effort had drained him.
Blood pooled around him, staining the cold stone beneath.
His thoughts were a chaotic mix of pain and concern for me.
"Elara..." he whispered, his voice barely audible in the cavernous space.
He knew he had to survive, not just for himself but for me.
Outside, the rescuers carried me towards safety, their boots crunching through the snow.
They moved quickly, unaware of Max's dire condition inside the hidden cave.
The wind howled around us, carrying with it a sense of urgency and desperation.
"How is she?" one of the rescuers asked, his voice tinged with worry.
"She's hypothermic but alive," another replied. "We need to get her to warmth immediately."
They moved with purpose, their steps sure and steady despite the treacherous terrain.
Inside the cave, Max's vision began to blur as he fought to stay awake.
The pain was excruciating, each breath a struggle against the darkness threatening to consume him.
He clenched his teeth, forcing himself to focus on my face in his mind.
"I have to... hold on," he muttered through gritted teeth.
The rescuers reached a small clearing where a makeshift camp had been set up.
A fire crackled in the center, casting flickering shadows on the surrounding trees.
"Get her by the fire," one of them ordered.
They laid me down gently near the warmth, covering me with blankets to stave off the cold.
Max's strength was waning; he could feel consciousness slipping away like sand through his fingers.
But thoughts of me kept him fighting.
He couldn't give up—not now, not when I needed him more than ever.
"Stay with us, Elara," one of the rescuers said softly as they checked my vitals.
Their faces were grim but determined.
"We're going to get you through this."
Max's breathing grew more ragged as he struggled against the encroaching darkness.
"Elara... I'm coming," he whispered weakly.
But even as he spoke, he knew it was a promise he might not be able to keep.
The rescuers worked quickly and efficiently, their movements a well-practiced dance of survival and care.
They wrapped me in thermal blankets and administered warm fluids to combat hypothermia.
"She's stabilizing," one of them said with relief. "We need to move her to base camp."
Inside the cave, Max's vision dimmed further until all that remained was a pinprick of light in an ocean of blackness.
He clung to that light desperately, refusing to let go.
The rescuers lifted me onto a stretcher and began making their way back through the forest.
Their voices were calm but urgent as they communicated over radios and coordinated our extraction.
Max's last coherent thought was of me—of my smile, my laughter, my strength.
And then there was nothing but darkness.
As we moved through the forest towards safety, I remained blissfully unaware of Max's plight inside that hidden cave.
The wind howled louder around us as if mourning what we had lost.
Suddenly, one of the rescuers stopped dead in their tracks.
"Wait," he said sharply. "Where's Max?"
The realization hit them like a thunderclap—they had left someone behind.
Without hesitation, they turned back towards the cave entrance.
I threw myself at him, screaming his name.
"Max! Max, wake up!" I shouted, my voice cracking with desperation.
The rescuers had to sedate me to reach him.
"Hold her back!" one of them ordered as another injected something into my arm.
My vision blurred and then went dark.
When I woke up, I was in a healer's tent at base camp.
The canvas walls flapped gently in the wind, and the smell of herbs filled the air.
I tried to sit up but felt too weak.
A healer noticed me stirring and came over quickly.
"Easy now," she said softly. "You've been through a lot."
"Max... where's Max?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
She frowned and glanced over her shoulder.
I followed her gaze and saw Max lying on a cot next to mine.
He looked pale and fragile, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths.
The healers worked quickly, their hands moving with practiced precision as they applied salves and bandages.
One of them whispered to another about his injuries.
"He's lost a lot of blood," one said quietly. "And that wound is infected."
Another healer checked my vitals and muttered something about hypothermia.
Max groaned in pain, and I reached for his hand, feeling his warmth against my cold skin.
"Max, I'm here," I said softly, squeezing his hand gently.
His eyes fluttered open, meeting mine with a mixture of relief and pain.
"Elara..." he murmured, his voice weak but filled with determination.
Despite the pain etched across his face, he squeezed my hand back.
I knew then that we would fight on together.
The healers continued their work, their faces set in grim determination.
"We need more antiseptic," one of them called out.
Another rushed to fetch it, returning moments later with a vial of liquid that smelled sharply of alcohol.
They cleaned Max's wound carefully, causing him to wince and grit his teeth against the pain.
I held his hand tightly, willing him to stay strong.
"You'll be okay," I whispered. "We both will."
He nodded slightly, his eyes never leaving mine.
The tent was filled with the sounds of hushed voices and rustling fabric as the healers moved around us.
Outside, the wind howled through the trees, a reminder of the dangers we had faced.
"She's stabilizing," one of the healers said after checking my vitals again. "But she'll need rest."
"And him?" another asked, nodding towards Max.
"He's not out of danger yet," came the somber reply. "But he's fighting."
Max's grip on my hand tightened slightly as if he could hear their words even in his weakened state.
I leaned closer to him, resting my forehead against his.
"We're going to make it," I whispered. "Together."
His eyes closed briefly before opening again, filled with a resolve that mirrored my own.
The healers continued their work late into the night, their efforts tireless as they fought to save us both.
I drifted in and out of consciousness, each time waking to find Max still by my side.
As dawn broke outside the tent, casting a pale light through the canvas walls, I felt a renewed sense of hope.
His breathing became more labored, and his skin took on a ghastly pallor.
Desperation clawed at me, urging me to do something—anything—to save him.
I remembered an ancient halfling spell, one my grandmother had taught me long ago.
It was risky, but I had no other choice.
I knelt beside Max and placed my hands gently on his chest.
Closing my eyes, I began to chant softly, focusing all my energy on the incantation.
The words flowed from my lips like a river, and I felt a strange warmth spread through my body.
My energy surged into Max, a glowing light that enveloped him.
His color began to return, and his breathing steadied.
Relief washed over me like a wave, but it was short-lived.
A sharp pain pierced my chest, and I gasped in agony.
Blood filled my mouth, and I started choking.
The healers noticed immediately and rushed to my side.
"She's in distress!" one of them shouted.
I felt hands on me, trying to stabilize my failing body.
My vision blurred as they worked frantically to save me.
"Stay with us, Elara," a healer urged, her voice distant and echoing.
I clung to consciousness with every ounce of strength I had left.
I couldn't leave Max alone; he needed me.
The room spun around me, the faces of the healers becoming indistinct blurs.
Darkness threatened to overtake me, but I fought against it with everything I had.
"Don't let her go!" another healer cried out.
They administered something—an elixir or potion—I couldn't tell.
All I knew was that I had to hold on for Max.
The pain in my chest intensified, making it hard to breathe.
I coughed violently, more blood spilling from my lips.
"Elara!" Max's voice was faint but desperate.
I turned my head weakly towards him, our eyes locking for a brief moment.
He looked terrified, his hand reaching out for mine.
"I... I'm here," I managed to whisper through the pain.
The healers continued their efforts, their faces grim with determination.
"She's losing too much blood," one of them muttered urgently.
They applied pressure to my wound and chanted healing spells of their own.
The room seemed to close in around me, the edges of my vision darkening further.
Max's grip on my hand tightened as if he could sense how close I was to slipping away.
"Stay with me," he pleaded softly.
I focused on his voice, using it as an anchor to keep myself grounded.
The healers' voices blended together in a cacophony of urgency and hope.
"She's stabilizing," one finally said with cautious optimism. "But we need to act fast."
They moved quickly, their hands a blur as they worked to save me from the brink of death.
Max's face swam in and out of focus as I struggled to stay awake.
"Elara... don't leave me," he whispered again, his voice breaking.
Summoning the last reserves of my strength, I squeezed his hand weakly in response.
The darkness loomed ever closer, but I refused to let it take me.
"We're going to make it," I whispered back. "Together."
Max's condition had improved significantly; his breathing was steadier, and the color had returned to his cheeks.
He held my hand tightly, his eyes filled with worry as he watched the healers work on me.
I could feel the tension in the tent, a palpable sense of anticipation hanging in the air.
"How is she?" Max asked, his voice strained but stronger than before.
One of the healers glanced up from her work, her expression serious.
"She's stable for now, but it's touch and go," she replied. "We need to keep a close eye on her."
Max's grip on my hand tightened, and I could see the fear in his eyes.
"Hang in there, Elara," he whispered. "You have to fight."
I nodded weakly, trying to muster a reassuring smile.
The tent was dimly lit by lanterns, casting flickering shadows on the canvas walls.
The smell of herbs and antiseptic filled the air, mingling with the scent of burning wood from the campfire outside.
Suddenly, distant howls echoed through the night, sending chills down my spine.
The sound was eerie and unsettling, a reminder that danger was never far away.
The healers exchanged nervous glances, their movements becoming more urgent.
"What was that?" Max asked, struggling to sit up despite his weakened state.
One of the healers placed a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back down.
"Stay still," she said firmly. "You're not fully healed yet."
Max's protective instincts kicked in, and he tried to rise again.
"I can't just lie here while there's danger out there," he insisted.
I stirred slightly, my breathing shallow but steady.
"Max... please," I managed to say. "You need to rest."
The howls grew louder, closer now, signaling the imminent arrival of a new threat.
The camp braced for an impending confrontation, the tension in the air thickening with each passing moment.
"We need to be ready," one of the healers said urgently. "Everyone stay alert."
Max finally relented, lying back down but keeping a firm grip on my hand.
"We'll get through this," he said softly. "Together."
I nodded again, feeling a renewed sense of determination despite my weakened state.
The howls continued to echo through the night, growing ever closer.
Outside the tent, I could hear the sounds of people preparing for whatever was coming—footsteps crunching on gravel, weapons being readied.
The camp was a hive of activity, everyone moving with purpose and urgency.
"Elara," Max said quietly. "No matter what happens, I won't leave your side."
His words gave me strength, and I squeezed his hand in response.
"We'll face it together," I whispered.
The tent flaps rustled as a gust of wind blew through the camp, carrying with it a sense of foreboding.
The healers continued their work with grim determination, their faces set in concentration.
"Stay strong," one of them said to me. "We need you both to pull through this."
I took a deep breath, focusing on Max's presence beside me.
The howls were almost deafening now, a cacophony of menace that seemed to surround us.
Suddenly, there was a commotion outside—a shout followed by the sound of clashing metal.
The camp had been breached.
Max struggled to sit up again, his eyes wide with alarm.
"They're here," he said urgently. "We have to do something."
