The forest swallowed them whole.
One moment they were at the edge of the estate grounds, ruins smoking behind them. The next, they'd crossed into the tree line and everything changed.
Darkness. Even though the sun still hung in the sky, the canopy blocked most of the light. Green-filtered shadows stretched everywhere.
Selene flinched at every movement.
A branch swaying in the wind became a soldier reaching for her.
A bird taking flight became the whoosh of a blade.
Rustling leaves became footsteps chasing them.
Her wolf cowered inside her chest. Whimpering. Terrified.
The shift still wouldn't come. She was too young. Too traumatized. The wolf retreated deeper, hiding from everything.
Alaric moved quickly through the underbrush. He knew these woods. Had hunted here. Knew the paths and the hiding places.
He carried a small pack on his back. Salvaged from somewhere. Inside, Selene could hear things shifting. Food maybe. Or supplies.
She didn't ask. Didn't care.
Her body moved automatically. One foot in front of the other. Following Alaric because she had nowhere else to go.
But her mind was still in the garden.
Still kneeling beside Isolde's grave.
Still watching her sister's body being lowered into the ground.
The mark on her forehead had stopped burning. The glow had faded to almost nothing in the forest shade.
But she could still feel it. A raised ridge of scar tissue. A permanent brand.
She touched it as she walked. Traced the crescent shape.
This was what had destroyed everything. This tiny mark.
"How far?" Her voice came out hoarse. Raw from screaming and crying.
"Three days to the village," Alaric said without turning. "If we keep moving. If we're not followed."
Three days. Alone in the forest with only her grief and fear.
"Tell me about this woman. The one who helps refugees."
"Her name is Mira. She's... unaligned. No pack. Lives outside the territorial systems."
"A rogue?"
"No. Rogues are wolves who've lost their minds. Gone feral. Mira chose to leave civilized wolf society. There's a difference."
Selene didn't understand the distinction. Didn't care enough to ask.
They walked in silence for a while. The forest growing darker as the sun moved west.
"Why does she help refugees?" Selene finally asked.
"Because she knows what it's like to lose everything. To have your pack torn apart by politics and power."
Alaric jumped over a fallen log. Turned to help Selene across.
She ignored his hand. Climbed over herself. Her bloody palms left smears on the bark.
"She'll hide you," Alaric continued. "Teach you survival skills. Keep you safe until..."
"Until what?"
"Until you're old enough to fight back."
The words settled over them. Heavy. Final.
Fighting back meant training. Meant years of preparation. Meant becoming something other than a scared child.
"Why can't you come with me?" Selene asked.
She hated how small her voice sounded. How desperate.
She didn't want to be alone. Didn't want to lose the only family she had left.
Alaric's jaw tightened. He kept walking.
"Because I need to stay. To watch them. To learn everything about the Alpha King and his court."
"You're going to the capital?"
"Eventually. I'll work my way into his service. Become a guard maybe. Or a soldier. Get close to him."
"Why?"
Alaric stopped walking. Turned to face her.
"To find his weaknesses. His fears. His vulnerabilities. To learn how to destroy him."
His eyes were hard. Dark with something that might have been hate. Or ambition.
"For revenge?" Selene whispered.
"For justice," Alaric corrected. His voice was fierce. "For your family. For Isolde. For everyone he murdered because he was afraid of a prophecy."
Selene wanted to believe him. Wanted to trust that someone else carried the same burning need for vengeance that she did.
But something felt wrong. A small voice in the back of her mind.
The way he'd frozen when the masked wolves came. The nod they'd given him. His words: "not yet, I need more time."
"Alaric?" She looked up at him. "Those masked wolves. You never told me who they were."
His expression flickered. Just for a second.
"Assassins. Hired by the Alpha King to make sure the job was done."
"But they knew you."
"They knew of me. Everyone in the southern territories knows about the Eltharion family and their adopted son."
It made sense. But it didn't feel true.
Selene was too tired to push. Too broken to question further.
She let it go.
They walked until sunset began to paint the sky orange through the tree canopy.
The forest thinned ahead. A road appeared. Dirt and gravel cutting through the woods.
A fork. Two paths splitting. One heading north. One heading west.
Alaric stopped at the junction. Set down his pack.
He knelt before Selene. Took her small, blood-stained hands in his larger ones.
His touch was gentle. Almost tender.
"I'll come for you when it's safe," he said. "I'll send word. Letters. Messages. You won't be alone forever."
"I'm already alone."
"No. You're a survivor. There's a difference."
He squeezed her hands.
"But until then..." His voice dropped to a fierce whisper. "Survive, little sister. Live. Grow strong. Learn to control your wolf and your power."
His eyes burned into hers.
"Because one day, we will return to the capital. And we will make Alpha King Damian pay for every drop of blood he spilled."
Selene's throat tightened. She wanted to cry but had no tears left.
"I promise," she whispered.
Alaric pressed his forehead to hers. The gesture was intimate. Familial. A wolf pack's sign of trust and love.
"You're all I have left," he said quietly. "Don't die out there. Please."
Then he pulled back. Stood. Pointed down the left path.
"That way. Follow the road for two days. You'll reach a stream. Follow it upstream until you find a cabin built into a hillside. That's Mira's place."
He shouldered his pack.
"Go. Don't look back."
Selene took a step down the left path. Then another.
Her legs felt like lead. Every step was agony.
She was ten years old. Walking alone into a forest. No family. No pack. No home.
Just a mark on her forehead and a dead father's dagger at her belt.
She walked.
The path curved through the trees. Around a bend.
When she finally glanced over her shoulder, Alaric was gone.
Vanished like a ghost into the darkening trees.
The forest felt bigger suddenly. Emptier.
Selene stood alone on the dirt road as night began to fall.
Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled. Not friendly. Not pack.
Wild.
Hungry.
Selene's hand went to her father's dagger. Her fingers closed around the familiar hilt.
She was alone now. Truly alone.
No one to protect her. No one to save her.
Just her and the darkness and whatever waited in the trees.
The mark on her forehead pulsed once. Faint. Almost imperceptible.
A reminder.
She wasn't just a scared child anymore.
She was marked. Chosen. Cursed.
Destined to save or destroy.
Right now, she just wanted to survive the night.
Selene turned away from where Alaric had been. Faced the dark path ahead.
And started walking.
Into shadow.
Into exile.
Into whatever waited beyond.