8
The storm raged with a fury that matched my own. Rain lashed down in sheets, turning the ground to treacherous mud that sucked at my bare feet with each step. Lightning split the sky in jagged veins of silver, illuminating my path through the wilderness beyond Bloodfang borders.
Behind me, I could hear the sounds of pursuit howls echoing through the night as Kael's trackers followed my scent. Their voices carried on the wind, harsh and determined. They would not let their escaped prisoner simply vanish into the darkness.
But the storm was my ally now. Each crash of thunder masked the sound of my footsteps, each flash of lightning revealed paths through the dense forest that my enemies could not see. The rain washed away my scent trail, leaving the pursuing wolves confused and directionless in the chaos.
I ran deeper into the wild lands, my feet finding purchase on slick stones and fallen logs with impossible grace. The power that had freed me from my cell still coursed through my veins, lending me strength and speed beyond anything I had ever possessed. My wolf reveled in this new freedom, pushing me forward through the storm with relentless determination.
The shackles had left no marks on my wrists, but I could still feel their phantom weight. Every step took me further from the life I had known, from the pack that had raised me, from the mate who had betrayed me. With each mile, the last threads connecting me to my old existence stretched and finally snapped.
I was alone in the wilderness, hunted by my former pack, with nowhere to go and no one to trust.
And for the first time in months, I felt truly alive.
The terrain grew rougher as I fled deeper into the borderlands. These were contested territories, places where pack boundaries blurred and rogue wolves made their homes. Ancient trees towered overhead, their branches creating a canopy so thick that even the storm's fury was muted to a steady drumming above.
My bare feet were bleeding now, cut by sharp stones and thorns, but I barely felt the pain. The power within me seemed to dull all sensation except the burning need to keep moving, to put as much distance as possible between myself and the pack that had cast me out.
A wolf howled somewhere behind me, closer than the others. My pursuers were gaining ground despite the storm. I pushed myself harder, my breath coming in ragged gasps as exhaustion finally began to creep in around the edges of my supernatural strength.
That was when I heard different sounds cutting through the rain snarls and the clash of teeth and claws. Fighting. A battle was taking place somewhere ahead, the sounds echoing off the rocky walls of a narrow canyon I was approaching.
I slowed my pace, creeping forward through the underbrush until I could see the source of the commotion. In a small clearing at the canyon's mouth, a lone wolf was surrounded by a pack of rogues mangy, half-starved creatures with foam around their muzzles and madness in their yellow eyes.
The surrounded wolf was larger than his attackers, his coat a rich dark brown that gleamed even in the rain. He fought with deadly precision, his movements controlled and efficient, but he was outnumbered six to one. Blood streaked his flanks where rogue claws had found their mark.
I should have kept running. Should have skirted around the battle and continued my flight into the deep wilderness. This was not my fight, and I had my own survival to worry about.
But something made me pause.
Perhaps it was the way the lone wolf fought not with the desperate savagery of the rogues, but with honor and skill. Perhaps it was simple recognition of a fellow outcast, struggling against overwhelming odds.
Or perhaps it was the power within me, hungry for release after so many months of suppression.
The largest of the rogues lunged for the lone wolf's throat just as my decision crystallized. I stepped into the clearing, my body blazing with silver light that cut through the darkness like a beacon.
The rogues froze, their yellow eyes going wide with shock and primitive fear. The lone wolf stumbled back, equally stunned by my sudden appearance.
"Enough," I said, my voice carrying that strange harmonic resonance that made the very air tremble.
The power flowed out of me like a tide, washing over the clearing with irresistible force. The rogues whimpered and cowered, their savage courage crumbling before something older and more primal than their madness.
One by one, they slunk away into the forest, their tails between their legs and their eyes never leaving my glowing form. Within moments, the clearing was empty except for myself and the wounded wolf I had saved.
He shifted then, bones cracking and reshaping as he took human form. I found myself looking at a man perhaps a few years older than myself, with dark hair plastered to his head by the rain and intelligent gray eyes that studied me with wary intensity.
He was handsome in a rough, dangerous way all sharp angles and lean muscle, with scars crossing his chest and arms that spoke of a warrior's life. But it was his scent that made my wolf take notice. Alpha. Strong and unmistakable, even mixed with the copper smell of blood.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice hoarse from the fight.
I realized I was still glowing, power radiating from my skin like moonlight. With effort, I pulled the energy back within myself, though I kept enough active to heal the cuts on my feet.
"Someone who should be dead," I replied honestly.
His eyes narrowed, taking in my torn and muddy dress, my bare feet, the exhaustion that was beginning to weigh down my limbs despite the supernatural strength still flowing through me.
"Bloodfang," he said, and it wasn't a question. My scent would have told him that much, even diluted by the storm.
I nodded, wondering if I had just saved an enemy. The borderlands were contested territory, after all. This could be a Nightshade wolf, or a member of one of the smaller packs that raided Bloodfang lands.
"You're bleeding," I observed, noting the claw marks across his ribs.
He looked down at his wounds dismissively. "I've had worse."
"Not recently, I'd guess. Those rogues were trying to kill you, not just drive you off."
Something flickered in his gray eyes surprise, perhaps, at my observation. "What do you know of rogue tactics?"
"Enough to recognize a coordinated hunt when I see one." I took a step closer, studying the pattern of his wounds. "They weren't acting randomly. Someone sent them after you."
He was quiet for a long moment, rain streaming down his face as he considered my words. Finally, he nodded slowly.
"You're right. The question is why a Bloodfang exile would care about Nightshade politics."
My breath caught. Nightshade. The enemy pack, the wolves we had been taught to hate and fear since childhood. And I had just saved their Alpha's life.
"Because," I said slowly, "sometimes the enemy of your enemy is the only ally you have left."
Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating both our faces in stark relief. In that moment of brilliant light, I saw recognition dawn in his gray eyes.
"Selene," he breathed.
I stiffened, my hand instinctively moving to where a weapon would have hung if I had been armed. "You know me."
"Every Alpha knows the Bloodfang Luna. Or former Luna, I should say." His expression was unreadable. "The question is, what is Selene Bloodfang doing alone in the wilderness, glowing like a fallen star?"
Before I could answer, the sound of pursuing howls echoed through the canyon behind us. My former packmates had found my trail again.
The Nightshade Alpha for that was surely who he was heard them too. His posture shifted, becoming predatory and alert despite his wounds.
"They're hunting you," he observed.
"Yes."
"Why?"
I met his gaze steadily, knowing that my next words would determine whether I lived or died. "Because they believe I'm a traitor. Because my mate cast me aside for another. Because I know too much about their lies."
He studied me for another long moment, weighing my words against whatever he knew or had heard about the night's events.
The howls were getting closer.
"Come with me," he said finally, extending his hand.
I stared at it, knowing that taking it would make me a traitor in truth not to my pack, but to everything I had been raised to believe.
But Bloodfang had already branded me a traitor. They had already sentenced me to death.
What did I have left to lose?
I took his hand.
His fingers closed around mine, warm and strong despite the cold rain. The moment our skin touched, I felt a jolt of something not the mate bond I had shared with Kael, but something else. Recognition, perhaps. Or possibility.
"I'm Darius," he said as he led me away from the clearing, away from the approaching sounds of my pursuers. "Welcome to Nightshade territory."
As we disappeared into the storm-lashed forest, I felt the last of my old life slip away like water through my fingers. Behind us, Bloodfang wolves would find only an empty clearing and a scent trail that ended in confusion.
Ahead lay the unknown, dangerous and full of enemies who had every reason to kill me on sight.
But for the first time since this nightmare began, I wasn't running alone.