The forest swallowed her whole.
Every tree looked the same in the pale moonlight, tall and silent, their branches tangled like skeletal hands reaching toward her. The night was alive with sound—the distant cry of owls, the rustle of small animals in the underbrush, and, most unnerving of all, the occasional low howl echoing through the darkness.
Rogues.
Selene staggered forward, clutching her raw wrists. The chains had left deep welts, the brand on her collarbone still burned as if the iron were pressed there anew. Every breath scraped against her throat, heavy and ragged. Her wolf stirred weakly inside her, still numbed from the wolfsbane.
We can't shift, her wolf murmured, voice faint in her mind. Not yet.
Selene swallowed hard. That left her vulnerable, more human than wolf. And in rogue territory, a lone human was nothing but prey.
She pressed on. Her feet carried her through thick undergrowth, each step agony, but stopping wasn't an option. Behind her was death—Magnus's command, Lucian's betrayal, Seraphina's sneer. Ahead was uncertainty, but at least it was hers to claim.
Hours blurred together. The cold bit at her skin, the night air damp with dew. Her crimson cloak—her only possession, and the last remnant of the girl she had been—snagged on branches, tearing, fraying, until it hung in tatters.
By dawn, her legs gave out beneath her. She collapsed against the roots of an ancient oak, her chest heaving. Every muscle screamed, her wounds pulsed with fire. Hunger gnawed at her belly, sharper than any blade.
Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
"This isn't the end," she whispered again, though her voice cracked with the weight of exhaustion. "It can't be."
Her wolf whimpered softly inside her. Rest. Just for a little while.
Selene let her eyes drift shut. For a moment, she floated in a haze of half-dreams—memories bleeding into nightmares.
Lucian's voice, cold and final: I reject you.
Seraphina's laughter, sweet and poisonous.
Her father's words: No daughter of mine.
She jolted awake with a gasp. The forest was darker now, clouds veiling the moon. A strange silence pressed in on her, too deep, too absolute.
Then came the growl.
Low, guttural, close.
Selene's blood ran cold. She forced herself upright, her body protesting every movement. Her eyes scanned the shadows. That's when she saw them—two glowing orbs of gold, staring at her from between the trees.
A rogue.
The wolf stepped forward, its fur matted, ribs visible beneath its pelt. Saliva dripped from its jaws as it bared its teeth, hunger and madness burning in its eyes.
Selene's heart thundered. She had no weapon. No strength. No pack to protect her.
Her wolf surged weakly inside her. Fight.
"I can't," Selene whispered. "Not like this."
The rogue lunged.
Instinct screamed, and Selene dove aside, barely escaping the snap of its jaws. Pain flared in her side as she hit the ground, her body rolling against rocks and roots. She scrambled to her feet, blood rushing in her ears.
The rogue circled, growling, savoring the hunt.
Selene grabbed a fallen branch, gripping it like a spear. Her hands shook, but she raised it anyway.
When the wolf pounced again, she thrust the branch upward with all the strength she had left. It struck the rogue's chest—not deep enough to kill, but enough to make it stumble back with a snarl.
Selene staggered to her feet, her breaths ragged, her vision swimming. She knew she couldn't last much longer.
The rogue lunged once more—faster, deadlier.
But before it could reach her, another shape erupted from the shadows.
A wolf, massive and scarred, slammed into the rogue midair. The two crashed to the ground in a tangle of fur and teeth. Growls split the night, savage and raw, the sound of beasts locked in mortal combat.
Selene stumbled back, clutching the tree behind her for support, her eyes wide. The newcomer was unlike any wolf she'd ever seen. Larger than most Alphas, its black fur streaked with scars, its eyes burning with a strange mix of fury and intelligence.
The fight was brutal, over in moments. The scarred wolf ripped into the rogue's throat, ending its life with a final, wet crunch. The forest fell silent again, save for Selene's ragged breathing.
The wolf turned to her. Blood dripped from its jaws, its chest heaving. For a heartbeat, she thought it might attack her next.
But it didn't.
It only stared, eyes gleaming—strangely human, as if weighing her worth.
Selene's knees buckled. Her body couldn't take any more. The world tilted, blurred, and went black.
The last thing she saw before the darkness swallowed her was the massive wolf stepping closer, lowering its head as though to guard her, not kill her.