I wait about thirty minutes, counting each one by the steady thud of my heart and the slow burn of panic in my veins. I pretend to sip from a glass I no longer taste, pretend to watch the dancers spin and laugh, pretend I belong here—while my eyes track every movement in the room. Every glance in my direction feels like a threat. Every laugh sounds too loud. Every shadow feels like it's watching me back.
When I'm sure no one is paying attention, I slip into the mindlink.
"Cam. Bathroom by the side door. Now."
My nerves are shot by the time I reach the hallway. My skin feels too tight, my limbs restless and buzzing like I've had too much caffeine and not enough air. I pace once. Twice. My thoughts spiral uncontrollably—every way this could go wrong plays out in brutal detail.
What if someone follows me?
What if someone smells the fear on me and knows?
They whip people here for punishment. Not often—but it happens. And running away after being ordered to go with the Alpha's daughter to another pack? That's defiance. That's treason in their eyes.
That's blood.
Goddess—what about Cam?
If she's implicated—
I squeeze my eyes shut, nausea rolling through me. I can't do this. I can't drag her into this. Do I even have the guts to leave the Clearwater Pack? To walk away from the only structure I've ever known, even if it's rotted from the inside out?
'Breathe,' Emma says softly. 'You are okay. We are okay. Everything is going to be fine. I'm with you.'
Her voice is different. Calmer. Steadier.
'How are you so calm?' I reply shakily. 'You're usually the one winding me up.'
'I don't know,' she admits. 'There's something different. A few minutes ago something chan—'
She cuts off abruptly.
"Oh Goddess, this is happening, Sam!" Cam barrels in, nearly slamming the door behind her.
"Shh," I whisper urgently, grabbing her hands. "Yes. I'm leaving now. I love you, okay?"
Her face crumples, and the sight of it nearly breaks me. The grief there is raw and unguarded, like I've already died in her eyes. I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight, breathing her in like I might never get the chance again.
She sobs quietly against my shoulder for a few minutes, fingers gripping the back of my dress like if she lets go, I'll vanish.
"Call me as soon as you can," she says finally, pulling back just enough to look at me, her hands still clutching my shoulders. Her eyes are red and glassy. "I need to know you're safe."
"Yes. Of course." My voice barely holds together. "You too be safe, stay away from Seraphina."
She looks at me nervously, "Oh don't worry about me… I kinda found…" looking back quickly. "Oh nevermind, just go." She hugs me.
One last hug. One last breath of her scent.
Then I slip out the side door, heart hammering, and Cam turns back toward the ballroom, shoulders squared, pretending nothing ever happened.
The garden welcomes me with cool air and the scent of night-blooming flowers. The beds are tall and overgrown on purpose—decorative, wild, meant for guests to wander through. Thank Goddess for that. No one will think twice about a wolf walking here, laughing softly, pretending to admire the scenery.
The second I reach the tree line, I break into a run.
Branches whip past me, skirts snagging on thorns as I tear through the underbrush. The bag Cam hid is only a ten-minute run upriver. I'll grab it, cross the river to muddle my scent, and keep going. By morning, I should be close to the human city.
They won't even notice I'm gone until then.
I'm wearing thick flats and leggings beneath the dress—thank Goddess for Cam's foresight.
The moon is blindingly bright tonight, even for the day after a full moon. I slow without meaning to, my steps faltering as silver light spills through the trees. The moon hangs heavy and luminous above me, radiant, almost alive.
She's beautiful.
Vibrant.
Iridescent.
Is she glowing for me?
That sounds ridiculous—but my chest tightens anyway, something warm and aching blooming behind my ribs. I come to a complete stop, breath shallow, eyes locked on the sky. The river is right there. I should keep moving.
But I can't.
It's like she's calling me. Like she's trying to tell me something—and I don't know how to listen.
CRUNCH.
The sound snaps me out of it.
My heart leaps violently as twigs snap beneath unseen weight.
Idiot. Stupid wolf thing to do. Staring at the moon like some lovesick pup.
Another snap.
Closer.
Cold fear slides down my spine. Clearwater patrols aren't out this way right now—I checked. I made sure.
From behind an oak tree steps a wolf.
No—a monster.
Huge doesn't begin to cover it. This is the biggest wolf I've ever seen, his presence swallowing the clearing whole. My heart slams against my ribs as instinct screams at me to run. Every lesson drilled into me since childhood crashes through my mind at once—unknown wolf, unknown intent, territory unclear.
My hands curl into fists even though I know how useless they'd be.
Goddess, he's massive.
Dark fur ripples under the moonlight, muscles rolling beneath his coat as he moves with terrifying grace. This isn't a patrol wolf. This isn't a guard.
This is a predator who knows exactly how powerful he is.
Emma stirs sharply, fully alert now.
'Easy,' she murmurs. 'Don't bolt yet.'
Yet?
That word does absolutely nothing for my panic.
The wolf steps closer, slow and deliberate, as if he knows I'm calculating escape routes. His head tilts, nostrils flaring as he scents the air—
And then he freezes.
Completely still.
Ears forward. Body rigid. Eyes locked onto me with an intensity that steals the air from my lungs.
It's not hunger I see there.
Not aggression.
It's recognition.
My chest tightens painfully as a strange pull settles deep in my gut—warm, dizzying, undeniable. Gravity shifts. My skin prickles, nerves buzzing like lightning skimming just beneath the surface.
'Sam…' Emma whispers, awed and shaken. 'That's not just a wolf.'
"No," I breathe aloud, backing up a step, shaking my head. "No, no, no. This can't be fucking happening. Not now. Not tonight. Shit."
The wolf takes another step forward.
The earth feels heavier beneath his paws, like the world itself is leaning toward him. His eyes glow brighter, silver catching the moonlight, and something ancient presses against my senses—commanding, overwhelming, not cruel but utterly dominant.
Run, my mind screams.
But my body won't listen.