Elowen's POV
Run.
The word screams through my mind as the glowing eyes move closer through the darkness. But my broken body won't obey. My legs are already shaking from hours of walking. My ribs scream with every breath.
I can't run. Can barely stand.
The eyes blink once—yellow-gold and massive—then disappear back into the shadows.
Whatever was watching me is gone.
For now.
I force my legs to move, stumbling deeper into the forbidden forest. Away from Shadowpine Pack. Away from Cassian and Seraphine and the life that tried to destroy me.
The forest is alive with sounds I don't recognize. Howls that aren't quite wolf. Rustling that's too deliberate to be wind. Every shadow feels dangerous.
Good. Let them be dangerous. At least here, the threats are honest. Not like Cassian, who whispered promises while planning my destruction.
Hours pass. Or maybe minutes. Time loses meaning when every step is agony.
My broken ribs grind together with each breath. Blood from my split lip has dried on my chin. One eye is swollen nearly shut from where Vera punched me.
But I keep walking because stopping means thinking. And thinking means remembering.
Cassian's face when I told him about the baby. Disgust. Panic. Rage.
"Get rid of it or leave."
The kicks to my stomach. The cruel laughter.
"You're nothing."
Papa's broken expression as he bandaged my wounds, knowing he couldn't protect me.
No. Don't think. Just walk.
The sun sets, and the temperature drops fast. I'm wearing only the thin dress I packed—omega clothes, cheap and threadbare. Nothing meant for wilderness survival.
My teeth start chattering. My fingers go numb.
Cold. So cold.
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to preserve body heat. But it's not enough. The frozen air cuts through my clothes like knives.
How long can a pregnant omega survive freezing temperatures? How long before the cold kills my baby even if I somehow don't die first?
My foot catches on a root, and I fall hard. Pain explodes through my injured ribs. I lie there gasping, my vision swimming.
Get up, I order myself. Get up or die here.
But my body won't listen anymore. It's done. Finished. Broken beyond what willpower can fix.
I manage to crawl toward a tree, pressing my back against the rough bark. At least I'll die sitting up. At least I tried.
Through the trees, I see a frozen stream. Ice gleaming in the moonlight.
Water. I'm so thirsty.
I drag myself toward it, leaving a trail of blood in the snow. When I reach the stream's edge, I break through the thin ice and cup freezing water in my shaking hands.
It tastes like metal and earth and desperation.
I drink anyway.
Then I collapse beside the stream, too exhausted to move another inch.
This is it. This is where my story ends. Beaten omega dies alone in forbidden forest. The pack won't even look for my body.
I press my hand to my stomach, searching for movement. For some sign my baby survived.
There—a flutter. So faint I almost miss it.
Still alive. Still fighting.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, tears freezing on my cheeks. "I'm so sorry, little one. I wasn't strong enough to protect you. Wasn't brave enough to fight back. I tried to run, but I didn't run far enough."
The flutter comes again, weaker this time.
"Please forgive me," I sob. "You deserved a better mother. A stronger mother. Someone who could have kept you safe."
My vision blurs. Not from tears this time. From cold. From blood loss. From my body finally giving up.
I close my eyes.
At least we'll die together. Me and my baby. Not alone. That's something.
The mate bond in my chest gives one last painful pull toward Cassian—toward the fated mate who threw me away like garbage.
Then even that fades.
Everything fades.
I'm ready. Ready to let the cold take me. Ready to stop fighting a battle I was always going to lose.
Peace, finally.
Then I hear it.
Footsteps.
Not human footsteps. Too heavy. Too deliberate.
Massive paws crunching through snow and ice. Getting closer. The predator from before must have followed me, waiting for me to weaken.
Smart. Why waste energy on a chase when your prey is dying anyway?
I should be scared. Should try to defend myself.
But I'm too tired. Too broken. Too done with everything.
Let it kill me quickly. That's all I ask.
The footsteps stop right beside me.
I force my one good eye open and see them.
Paws. Enormous paws, each one the size of my head. Silver-gray fur. Claws that could tear me apart with one swipe.
This isn't a normal wolf.
This is something ancient. Something powerful. Something that could end me without even trying.
I tilt my head back, looking up at the creature standing over me.
It's massive—easily twice the size of any wolf I've ever seen. Its fur shimmers with silver light in the moonlight. And its eyes...
Golden eyes. Ancient and knowing and terrifying.
This is no rogue.
This is the Lycan King.
I've heard stories about him my whole life. The immortal ruler who's lived for centuries. The monster who kills trespassers on sight. The beast who built a kingdom on the bones of his enemies.
They say he's more demon than wolf.
They say he has no mercy.
They say his lands are where wolves go to die.
The Lycan King stares down at me, and I wait for the killing blow.
Instead, he shifts.
The massive wolf becomes a man—tall, powerfully built, with dark hair streaked with silver and those same golden eyes that seem to see straight through me.
He's terrifying and beautiful and so clearly dangerous that my survival instincts finally wake up.
But it's too late to run.
"You're on my lands now," he says. His voice is deep, resonant, like thunder rolling across mountains. "State your purpose, or die where you lie."
I try to speak, but only blood comes out. My mouth won't form words anymore.
The Lycan King's eyes narrow, studying me. Taking in my battered face, my broken ribs, my swollen belly.
"Omega," he says, and something flickers across his face. "Beaten. Pregnant. Running from something."
It's not a question, but I nod anyway.
"Please," I finally manage to whisper. "Just... make it quick."
His expression doesn't change. "Make what quick?"
"Killing me. I'm trespassing. I know the punishment. Just... please don't hurt my baby first."
For a long moment, he just stares at me. Then he does something I don't expect.
He kneels in the snow beside me.
"I'm not going to kill you," the Lycan King says quietly.
"You're not?"
"No." He reaches toward me, and I flinch. He pauses, letting me see his hands are empty. Not threatening. "How far did you run?"
"From Shadowpine Pack. Since dawn."
"Shadowpine." His mouth tightens. "Alpha Greythorne's territory."
I nod, too weak to explain.
The Lycan King studies me for another moment, then makes a decision.
"You have two choices, omega," he says. "Die here in the snow, which is clearly what you came to this forest to do. Or let me help you."
I almost laugh. Almost. "Why would you help me?"
"Because I've lived 347 years, and I've learned to recognize strength when I see it." His golden eyes hold mine. "You're not weak, little omega. You're a survivor. And I don't let survivors die on my lands if I can prevent it."
"I'm nobody. Nothing. Just an omega—"
"Who walked for hours through deadly forest, bleeding and broken, to protect her child." He stands, looking down at me. "That's not nothing. That's the kind of strength most warriors never find."
He offers his hand.
I stare at it, my mind struggling to process this impossible moment.
The Lycan King—the monster from every scary story—is offering to save me.
"Choose," he says. "Die here, or live. What's it going to be?"
My hand trembles as I reach for his.
Our fingers touch, and warmth floods through me. Not from the mate bond—that's still connected to Cassian, unfortunately.
This is different. This is choice. Protection. Possibility.
"Live," I whisper. "I choose to live."
The Lycan King's grip is strong and steady as he pulls me to my feet.
Then the world spins violently, and everything goes black.
The last thing I feel is strong arms catching me before I hit the ground.
The last thing I hear is that thunder-deep voice: "I've got you. You're safe now."
Safe.
I haven't been safe in so long I forgot what the word meant.