Chapter 5 The Velocity of Terror

My lungs burned, sucking air that tasted sharp, of pine needles and cold, clean oxygen. Every frantic, clumsy step through the damp undergrowth sent a shockwave of pain through my ankles, but the pain was distant, muted. It was like I was watching my body run from a great height.

Run. Move, you pathetic thing.

The voice was back. Clear, cold, and utterly detached from the screaming terror that was my consciousness. It wasn't the voice of the goddess or the great white wolf; it was just her. My wolf. Nyx.

I can't. I can't breathe, Kaelen… My thought was a whimper, a raw wound ripped open by the memory of his face, the chilling indifference, and the power of his rejection.

Silence. The command was a psychic whip-crack across my mind, immediately dulling the edge of the panic. You will breathe. You will move. Focus on the ground. Three steps, then three more.

I tried to focus on the numbers, but my senses were a chaotic siren. The gentle whisper of the wind was a scream in my ears. The scent of pine was so overwhelming it felt like a chemical burn in my nostrils. I stumbled, slamming my palm down on a rock hidden by moss.

There should have been blood. There should have been screaming agony. I remembered the beatings from the pack and the way my skin tore easily. But Nyx’s influence was already distorting reality. I looked down.

The skin on my hand was already knitting itself together, the scrape fading to a pale, pink memory in seconds. It was horrifying. The skin was tougher, the bone beneath feeling dense, almost alien.

That is your gift. Stop gawking and move. Nyx was impatient, a predator watching its prey hesitate. They are close.

“Who?” I gasped aloud, the sound thin and reedy. Who is close? Kaelen?”

Search parties. His pack. They will not allow an undead omega to wander free. You were supposed to be fertilizer for the forest floor. They will ensure the job is finished.

The cold reality of her words was more paralyzing than any dream. I was a loose end. A mistake. My legs locked up beneath me, the memory of Kaelen’s pack finding me, dragging me back, and finishing the execution seizing my will.

Stop it! Nyx roared inside my head, and this time, it felt like a physical shove, forcing my torso forward. You are not running from him; you are running to survival. The forest is loud. They are louder.

I forced my weight onto my feet again, trying to listen, trying to use the chaotic symphony of my new senses for something useful. The gentle hum of the tree roots, the chattering of squirrels... then, cutting through it all, a sound that made the hair on my arms stand up:

The rhythmic thud of heavy paws. Not rogues. These were disciplined, strong wolves, moving in formation. And they were close.

Fifty paces, uphill. Three of them. They are moving fast. They are not looking for a frightened mouse. They are looking for a broken body.

My body, driven solely by Nyx’s cold assessment, responded before my mind could. I veered sharply left, my bare feet seeming to glide over jagged stones without feeling the edges. The grace was terrifyingly alien. I was moving like a hunter, not a victim.

“What if they catch us?” My internal voice was shaking so badly I could barely form the thought.

They won’t. Nyx’s conviction was absolute. If they get within ten feet, you will shift.

“Shift? I can’t! I only did it a little; it hurt! I don’t know how!” The memory of the violent, uncontrolled agony of the initial partial transformation flooded me.

You will. I will do it for you. You will allow me control of your pain. Your fear is a liability. My control is salvation.

Her offer was chilling. It wasn't comfort; it was a demand for surrender. Surrender of the little sliver of my identity that was still Anya.

“No. I won’t give up control. I can run. I can hide.”

Fool. You hide, you die. I run, we live. Your body is a vehicle. Your terror is slowing us down.

Anya's fear, however, was still my fuel. It pushed me into a sprint I didn't know I possessed. I heard the search party howl, a sharp, cutting sound that sliced through the forest like a knife. They knew they were close.

Change course! Left, now! There is a stream fifty feet ahead. You will mask your scent in the water.

I obeyed instantly, driven by the pure, primal instinct that Nyx injected into my bloodstream. My feet slapped into cold, shallow water. The freezing temperature was shocking, a small, welcome relief from the overwhelming heat of the chase. I plunged my face into the water, swallowing lungfuls of the icy liquid.

Don’t drink! Kneel. Let the water wash the blood and the scent of fear away. Hurry.

I crouched, my chest heaving, listening as the thunder of the three wolves approached the bank of the stream twenty yards downstream. They had paused.

They smell the water. They know you were here. Hold still.

I squeezed my eyes shut, every muscle screaming at me to run, to scream, to give up. The wolf inside me was a rock of stillness. I could feel the tension radiating off her, a coiled spring ready to explode.

A wolf sniffed loudly, the sound echoing in the silence.

“She’s fresh, Beta. The scent is faint, but it’s here. It’s the omega. She went into the water.”

“She won’t get far. We’ll follow the water upstream. If she’s injured, we’ll find her resting soon enough.”

They were coming for me. Slowly, meticulously, they were hunting the mistake.

My terror began to spiral again, that all-consuming, destructive panic.

Anya. Nyx's voice dropped to a near-whisper, but it resonated with lethal power. You have done enough. Rest now. Let me drive.

It wasn't a choice. It was an inevitability. I was too weak, too broken, too afraid. She was a survivor. And I wanted to survive.

“Okay,” I whispered internally, the single word a surrender of my will. “Take it. Just keep us alive.”

The instant I yielded, the fear vanished. It didn't fade; it was cut off, leaving a sudden, chilling void where panic had been. My heart rate dropped instantly. Nyx was in control.

I opened my eyes. The world was still painfully vivid, but the chaos was gone. Now, I saw only geometry and strategy. The rocks were stepping stones. The stream was a shield. The three wolves were predictable targets.

Good girl. Nyx sounded pleased, almost affectionate.

With a silent, effortless movement, my body rose from the water. I was no longer fleeing; I was stalking. I turned not to run away from the approaching threat but to face the dense woods on the opposite bank, where I could use the shadows to vanish entirely.

A flicker of light caught my attention in the dark trees. It wasn't the sun; it was a faint, violet shimmer around the tips of the leaves as I passed them. My Luna Essence, uncontrolled and chaotic, was reacting to the surrender, painting the world in an eerie, ephemeral glow.

Be mindful of your essence. It is not ready to be a beacon. Nyx warned, and the shimmer instantly subsided, pulled back into the dense core of my being.

I knew, suddenly and with chilling clarity, that this was the end of Anya, the terrified girl. The creature moving through the trees now was Nyx, forged in the cruelty of rejection, and only her cold, sharp vengeance would see the dawn.

We

were safe for now. But I was no longer myself.