Thunder crashed overhead as Willow slipped through the servant's entrance, her stolen pack weighing heavily on her shoulders.
The full moon celebration had wound down hours ago, leaving most of the pack drunk or asleep.
The violent storm that rolled in just after midnight was an unexpected blessing because it would mask her scent and cover her tracks.
Rain immediately soaked through her cloak, but she pressed forward, keeping to the shadows of the buildings.
Every flash of lightning made her freeze and she was terrified someone would see her. Her heart hammered so hard she feared it might burst.
The eastern border was two miles through dense forest. On a good day, it would take her thirty minutes. Tonight, pregnant and terrified, fighting through mud and torrential rain, it felt endless.
She had just reached the tree line when a hand grabbed her shoulder.
"Where do you think you're going?"
