POV: Liora
The golden eyes blinked once, twice, then vanished into the darkness. I didn't wait to see what they belonged to. Adrenaline overrode the pain screaming through my shoulder. I scrambled to my feet, my hand clamped over the arrow shaft, and ran. Behind me, I heard snarling, the sound of flesh tearing, more screams from hunters I couldn't see. My pack's howls had gone silent, replaced by an eerie stillness that was somehow worse.
Run. Just run.
My human form was slower than my wolf, but shifting would take energy I didn't have. Blood ran hot down my arm, dripping from my fingertips. Each breath felt like swallowing glass.
The forest grew thicker, darker. I couldn't hear pursuit anymore, but that meant nothing. Whatever killed that hunter could be stalking me right now, silent as death.
A sound reached my ears. Water. Running water. I crashed through a final wall of undergrowth and nearly fell down the embankment. A river stretched before me, wide and fast, the current churning white over rocks. The Blood Moon reflected on its surface, turning it into a ribbon of crimson.
The water would wash away my scent. Both from my pack and from whatever was hunting in these woods. I didn't let myself think. I just jumped.
The cold hit like a physical blow, driving the air from my lungs. The current grabbed me immediately, dragging me under. My feet couldn't find the bottom. The arrow in my shoulder screamed as water rushed over it, but the pain kept me conscious, kept me fighting.
I broke the surface, gasping, and let the river carry me downstream. Away from my pack. Away from the hunters. Away from those golden eyes.
I don't know how long I stayed in the water. Long enough for my fingers to go numb. Long enough for the Blood Moon to sink lower in the sky, its red light fading to the grey of approaching dawn.
When I finally dragged myself onto the rocky shore, I collapsed. My whole body shook, teeth chattering so hard I bit my tongue. The arrow had broken off in the water, leaving just a stub of wood protruding from my shoulder. Blood still seeped from the wound, slower now but steady.
I was going to die out here. No. I gripped a rock, using it to pull myself to sitting. I survived the pack. I survived the hunters. I'm not dying on a riverbank.
But I couldn't go back. My pack thought I was a murderer. Matthias had made sure of that, planting evidence, twisting the truth. Why? What did he gain from Declan's death?
It didn't matter now. I was alone. Packless. The worst fate for a wolf. I looked down at myself. My clothes were in tatters from shifting, barely more than rags. My long silver hair hung past my waist, distinctive and memorable. Anyone looking for me would recognize it immediately.
I needed to disappear. To become someone else. My fingers closed around a sharp stone from the riverbank. I lifted a handful of my wet hair and started sawing.
The strands came away in clumps. I worked methodically, cutting it as short as I could, letting the silver lengths fall into the water to be carried away. When I finished, my head felt strange, light. I touched what remained, barely longer than my fingers.
Next, I tore strips from what was left of my shirt. My hands shook as I wrapped them tight around my chest, flattening it, binding it. The pressure hurt, but it changed my shape. Made me look different.
I caught my reflection in a still pool near the bank. A boy stared back at me. Thin, bruised, with short ragged hair and hollow eyes. Not Liora. Someone else entirely.
"Leo," I whispered to my reflection. The name felt foreign on my tongue. "My name is Leo."
Saying it made it real. Liora was dead, murdered along with her Alpha. Leo was alive. Leo was no one. Leo could disappear.
I forced myself to stand. My legs trembled but held. The arrow stub needed to come out, but I didn't have the strength yet. First, I needed to put more distance between myself and my former territory.
I walked along the river until dawn broke, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. The Blood Moon was gone, replaced by pale morning light that felt too innocent for what I'd survived.
My shoulder throbbed with each step. Infection would set in soon if I didn't treat it. I needed shelter. Food. Help.
But who would help a rogue wolf?
The exhaustion hit me all at once. My vision blurred. The trees seemed to sway even though there was no wind. I stumbled, caught myself on a trunk, then stumbled again.
I didn't remember falling. One moment I was walking, the next I was on the ground, the earth cool against my cheek. My eyes drifted closed.
Just for a moment. Just to rest.
+++++++
Voices woke me.
"... fresh blood trail."
"Could be a trap."
"Or just another rogue stupid enough to cross our borders."
My eyes snapped open. Morning light filtered through the canopy above me, brighter now. Hours must have passed. I tried to sit up and bit back a scream as pain lanced through my shoulder.
Four wolves surrounded me. No, not wolves. They were in human form but the power radiating from them marked them as warriors. Strong ones. Their eyes held the golden glow that meant their wolves were close to the surface.
I was in another pack's territory.
"He's awake," one of them said. A woman with a scar across her jaw. She crouched down, studying me with cold eyes. "You're on Nightbane land, boy. You have about ten seconds to explain why before we rip your throat out."
Nightbane. The name sent ice through my veins. Every wolf knew about the Nightbane Pack. They were ruthless, brutal, led by an Alpha who supposedly killed rogues for sport. No one crossed their borders and lived.
"I..." My voice came out hoarse. Wrong. I coughed and tried again, pitching it lower. "I didn't know. I'm sorry. I'll leave."
I tried to stand but my legs wouldn't cooperate. The world tilted sideways.
"He's half dead already," another warrior said, a massive man with arms like tree trunks. "Just leave him. He'll be gone by nightfall either way."
"Marcus will want to question him," the scarred woman said. "Check for weapons."
Rough hands patted me down. I had nothing. No weapons, no supplies, nothing but my torn clothes and the arrow stub still buried in my shoulder.
"He's clean. Got an arrow wound though, probably from hunters."
"Hunters don't cross into Nightbane territory." The woman grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet her eyes. Hers were grey, sharp as flint. "Who shot you?"
"I don't know." That was true enough. "I was running. They attacked. I jumped in the river."
"Running from what?"
My mind raced. I couldn't tell them the truth. If word got out about Declan's murder, about Liora, they'd turn me over to my old pack for the bounty. "My pack. They... I challenged myself wrong. I had to run."
It was a common enough story. Young wolves challenging for rank and losing, forced to flee as rogues. Shameful but believable.
The woman studied me for a long moment. I kept my expression neutral, praying she couldn't hear my heart hammering.
"On your feet." She released my chin. "You can explain to the Alpha why we shouldn't kill you for trespassing."
"I can't walk," I said honestly. The world was still spinning.
The massive warrior sighed and hauled me up like I weighed nothing, throwing me over his shoulder. My wounded shoulder pressed against his back and I couldn't stop the whimper that escaped.
"Shut up," he growled.
They carried me through the forest. I tried to pay attention to landmarks, to directions, but pain and exhaustion made everything blur together. All I registered was that the trees here were older, bigger. The territory felt different. Heavier, like the air itself carried weight.
After what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, we emerged into a clearing. A pack settlement spread before us, larger than my old pack's. Dozens of buildings, training grounds, what looked like a central hall made of dark wood and stone.
Wolves stopped to stare as we passed. I kept my eyes down, trying to look small and harmless. Just a rogue who got lost. No one important. No one worth remembering.
They carried me to the largest building and dropped me on the wooden steps. I barely caught myself, my good arm screaming as it took my weight.
"Wait here," the scarred woman ordered.
Footsteps approached from inside. Heavy, measured. The kind of footsteps that came from someone who never hurried because they didn't need to. Everyone else got out of their way.
A wolf emerged from the shadows of the doorway. Tall, broad shouldered, with dark hair and eyes that could cut glass. Power rolled off him in waves, making my wolf whine and try to tuck her tail even though I was in human form.
This wasn't just a warrior. This was someone high ranking. Maybe the Beta. He looked down at me with an expression of cold assessment. His lip curled slightly, showing teeth.
"Found him at the southern border," the scarred woman reported. "Claims he's a rogue on the run from a failed challenge."
The man crouched down, bringing his face level with mine. Up close, I could see scars on his knuckles, a thin line across his throat. A fighter. A killer.
"You're lying," he said simply.
My heart stopped. "I'm not.."
"Your scent is wrong. Too clean for a rogue who's been running. And that wound." He nodded toward my shoulder. "That's a hunter's arrow. Hunters don't attack wolves who run from pack challenges. They attack wolves being hunted by their own pack."
He leaned closer. I could smell leather and pine and something darker underneath. Blood, old and dried.
"So let's try again. What are you really running from, boy?"
I opened my mouth but no words came. If I told the truth, I was dead. If I lied and he caught me, I was dead.
His eyes narrowed. "Marcus!"
Another wolf appeared in the doorway. Older, with silver threading through his dark hair and eyes that missed nothing.
The man standing over me straightened, his voice carrying the snap of absolute authority.
"Take him to the Alpha."