I did not stop running until my lungs burned and my legs begged for mercy.
Even then, stopping felt dangerous.
The forest blurred around me, branches parting too easily, and roots no longer catching my boots. I moved faster than I ever had in my life, faster than fear alone should allow. Each breath filled me completely, cold air sharp and clean in my chest. My heart thundered, but it did not stutter. It did not weaken.
It carried me forward.
When I finally slowed, it was not because I was exhausted, but because something inside me insisted I listen.
I leaned against a tree, pressing my forehead to its rough bark as I tried to steady myself. The world felt too large, too loud. I could hear the whisper of leaves far away, the scuttle of small animals beneath the soil, and the distant rush of water I had never noticed before.
It overwhelmed me.
"Focus," I whispered.
The word felt strange in my mouth, like advice meant for someone else.
I closed my eyes and breathed slowly, grounding myself the way I always had when panic threatened to take over. Count the breaths. Feel the earth. Shrink the thoughts.
It helped.
When I opened my eyes again, the forest had not changed.
But I had.
I straightened slowly, testing my balance. My body felt lighter, stronger, as if some invisible weight had been lifted from my bones. The ache in my shoulder was gone. The raw sting in my palms had faded completely.
The realization sent a chill through me.
Healing like this was not human.
I looked down at my hands again, turning them over in the moonlight. Smooth skin. No scars. No evidence of the years I had spent scrubbing stone and carrying burdens that were never meant to be mine.
A laugh bubbled up, shaky and quiet.
If the pack could see me now, they would not recognize me.
The thought should have brought satisfaction.
Instead, it brought unease.
The path back toward the pack lands lay to my right. I could feel it, a familiar pull like a dull ache. The temple's influence faded with every step I took away from it, replaced by something steadier. Something that felt like awareness.
I hesitated.
Going back meant answers. It also meant danger.
They would notice. Even if they did not know what had changed, they would feel it. Wolves always sensed disturbances in their territory.
And tonight, the earth itself had answered me.
"I can't go back," I murmured.
Not yet.
I turned away from the path and followed the slope downward instead, toward the deeper forest. The land here was wilder, untouched by patrols or training routes. The trees grew closer together, their branches weaving a canopy thick enough to block the moonlight.
It should have been hard to see.
It was not.
My eyes adjusted easily, shadows sharpening into clear shapes. I stepped over fallen logs without slowing and ducked beneath low branches without thought. Each movement felt instinctive, guided by something older than fear.
Hours passed.
I did not feel tired.
Eventually, I reached a narrow stream cutting through the forest floor. Water glinted softly as it flowed over smooth stones, quiet and persistent. I knelt beside it, cupping my hands to drink.
The water tasted pure. Alive.
My reflection wavered on the surface as I leaned closer.
For a moment, I did not recognize the girl staring back.
Her eyes seemed darker, more alert. Her posture was straighter. There was something coiled beneath her skin, restrained but undeniable.
I touched my face lightly, as if it might disappear.
"I'm still me," I whispered.
The girl in the water did not look convinced.
I sat back on my heels and hugged my knees to my chest, letting the quiet settle around me. For the first time since leaving the pack house, I allowed myself to think.
About the altar.
About the way the temple had responded to my blood.
About the certainty that bloomed in my chest when I admitted the truth.
White Wolf.
The words echoed again, unbidden.
My breath caught.
I did not know what that meant. Only that it carried weight. History. Power.
And expectations I had never asked for.
A faint tremor rippled through the ground beneath me.
I froze.
It was subtle, barely noticeable, but my body reacted instantly. Muscles tensed. Senses sharpened. I lifted my head slowly, scanning the forest.
Nothing moved.
No scents reached me beyond earth and water and leaves.
Still, unease crept in.
Somewhere far away, something had shifted.
Not nearby. Not chasing.
Aware.
I swallowed and pushed myself to my feet. Sitting still suddenly felt like a mistake. Whatever had awakened in the temple did not exist in isolation. Ripples traveled. Consequences followed.
I needed distance.
The night stretched on as I moved again, guided by instinct rather than direction. I skirted ravines and climbed rocky slopes, always aware of the land beneath my feet. It felt like learning a new language fluently overnight.
Just before dawn, I found shelter.
A shallow cave nestled between two massive boulders, partially hidden by thick undergrowth. It smelled of stone and damp moss, empty of recent life. I stepped inside cautiously, then relaxed when nothing stirred.
It was small, but it was safe.
I sank down against the cave wall, exhaustion finally catching up to me now that the urgency had faded. My body still hummed with energy, but my mind felt heavy.
As I rested my head back, memories surfaced uninvited.
Kael's voice, sharp with mockery.
Rhys's laughter.
Dorian's calm cruelty.
The way Elias had looked at me in silence, torn between duty and something else he never voiced.
A familiar ache twisted in my chest.
I had thought leaving would sever those feelings.
It had not.
"I won't go back the same," I said softly to the empty cave.
The words felt like a promise.
Sleep claimed me slowly, wrapping around my thoughts without resistance. This time, there were no nightmares. No falling. No endless corridors of stone and laughter.
I dreamed of running.
Of moonlight on white fur.
Of a forest bowing as I passed.
When I woke, the sun was already high.
Warm light spilled into the cave, illuminating the dust motes drifting lazily in the air. I stretched instinctively, then froze as my body responded with fluid ease.
No stiffness. No pain.
I sat up slowly, heart pounding.
The dream lingered vividly in my mind.
Too vividly.
Outside, the forest was alive again. Birds sang. Insects buzzed. Life moved forward, unaware that anything had changed.
But it had.
Far away, on pack lands I could no longer see, wolves would be restless today. Training would feel off. Territory lines would feel thinner.
They would not know why.
Not yet.
I rose and stepped out into the sunlight, squinting as it warmed my face. The day smelled different than it ever had before. Richer. Fuller.
I took a deep breath.
Whatever I had become, whatever waited ahead, one truth was clear.
The pack might have forgotten me.
But the world had not.
And it was only beginning to remember.