The forest swallowed me whole.
Branches tore at my dress as I ran, the once-soft fabric snagging and ripping against bark and thorns. My lungs burned, each breath sharp and ragged, but I didn't slow down. I couldn't. Every sound behind me—the snap of a twig, the rush of wind through leaves—felt like pursuit.
Like judgment.
Like the pack coming to drag me back.
The bond was gone, but the pain remained. It pulsed through my chest in violent waves, leaving me dizzy and weak. Each heartbeat felt wrong, uneven, as if my body was still searching for something that no longer existed.
Mate…
The word echoed like a ghost in my mind, bitter and hollow.
I stumbled over a root and crashed to the forest floor, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs. For a moment, I lay there, curled in on myself, shaking as sobs tore free.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
I had imagined leaving the sacred clearing with my head held high, marked and claimed, walking beside Kalen as the pack bowed. I had imagined a future filled with loyalty, strength, love.
Instead, I was bleeding in the dirt, rejected by fate itself.
My wolf whimpered weakly inside me, her pain mirroring my own. She had trusted the bond as much as I had. And now she was broken.
"I'm sorry," I whispered into the earth, not sure if I was apologizing to her—or to myself.
I forced myself up, ignoring the tremor in my legs. Staying still was dangerous. The Silverclaw borders were close, and once I crossed them, I would be considered rogue.
Exile was a death sentence.
The deeper I ran, the darker the forest became. The moon's red glow barely pierced the canopy, casting twisted shadows that seemed to move when I wasn't looking. Fear crawled up my spine, cold and relentless.
That was when I smelled it.
Rot.
Blood.
Rogues.
My heart slammed against my ribs as I slowed, my senses sharpening despite my exhaustion. The scent was faint but unmistakable—unclean, wild, dangerous. A pack of rogues had passed through recently.
I backed away slowly, my pulse roaring in my ears.
Too late.
A low growl rolled through the trees, followed by another… and another.
Three sets of eyes glowed in the darkness, circling me.
I shifted instinctively, bones cracking painfully as my wolf took form. She was weaker than she should have been, her movements sluggish from the shattered bond. But she stood between me and them anyway, hackles raised, teeth bared.
The rogues emerged from the shadows, their fur matted, their eyes wild with hunger. One of them laughed, the sound harsh and broken.
"Look what the moon dragged in," he snarled. "A pretty little Luna without a pack."
I didn't answer.
I attacked.
Pain exploded through my side as claws tore into me. I fought back blindly, teeth snapping, muscles screaming in protest. For every blow I landed, I took two more. Blood soaked my fur, warm and slick.
I was losing.
A powerful strike sent me crashing into a tree. Stars burst across my vision as I slid to the ground, barely conscious. The rogues closed in, their grins cruel, triumphant.
This was how I would die.
Alone.
Unclaimed.
Forgotten.
The air changed.
It was subtle at first—a pressure so heavy it stole the breath from my lungs. The forest fell silent, as if the night itself had frozen.
Then came the scent.
Dark. Ancient. Dominant.
Lycan.
The rogues stiffened, fear flashing across their faces.
A shadow moved between the trees.
Tall. Massive. Commanding.
Golden eyes ignited in the darkness, burning like twin suns. The Lycan stepped forward, his presence overwhelming, his power crushing.
"Leave," he said.
His voice was calm.
Deadly.
The rogues didn't hesitate. They fled, disappearing into the forest as if chased by death itself.
The Lycan turned his gaze to me.
I tried to move. Tried to shift back. Tried to speak.
My body gave out.
The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was his face—sharp, dangerous, carved by shadows and moonlight.
And his eyes.
They followed me into the void.
When I woke, warmth surrounded me.
Soft furs beneath my body. The crackle of fire nearby. My wounds had been cleaned, bandaged with careful hands.
I forced my eyes open.
I wasn't in the Silverclaw lands anymore.
I wasn't anywhere familiar.
And I wasn't alone.
He stood near the fire, broad shoulders tense, dark hair falling loosely around his face. He didn't turn when I stirred, but I felt his awareness lock onto me instantly.
"You should be dead," he said.
I swallowed. "So should you, for saving me."
A pause.
Then he turned.
Up close, he was even more terrifying. Power rolled off him in waves, thick enough to choke on. His golden eyes studied me like a predator assessing prey.
"What were you doing on my border?" he asked.
I hesitated.
"My pack cast me out."
A lie.
But close enough to the truth.
Something flickered in his gaze—recognition, maybe. Or interest.
"Rest," he said after a moment. "You're not strong enough to leave."
I bristled. "I don't need—"
"You do," he cut in coldly. "And I don't offer mercy twice."
I fell silent.
As exhaustion dragged me back under, one final thought slipped through my mind.
I had escaped one fate…
Only to step straight into another.