I did not stop running until the sky began to pale.
The forest thinned gradually, trees giving way to rolling hills dusted with frost. My lungs burned, my legs trembled, but I forced myself onward until exhaustion finally won. When I collapsed near a cluster of low rocks, dawn was already bleeding into the horizon, painting the clouds in muted shades of gray and gold.
Only then did I allow myself to breathe.
I curled inward, arms wrapped around my knees, pressing my forehead against them as my body shook. Cold seeped through my cloak, but it was nothing compared to the storm inside me.
Mate.
The word echoed again, unwelcome and heavy.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push it away. I had run from cruelty, from chains disguised as duty. I would not run straight into another cage, even if fate itself had forged the bars.
Yet my body betrayed me.
Every nerve still hummed with awareness, with the lingering imprint of Caelen's presence. His scent clung to my senses like smoke, grounding and infuriating all at once. I hated how my pulse had reacted to him. Hated how my instincts had quieted instead of screaming danger.
That was the most frightening part.
When the sun finally crested the hills, warmth touched my skin, and with it came a strange clarity. Panic would not help me now. I needed answers. Control. A plan.
I rose slowly, muscles protesting, and surveyed my surroundings. In the distance, a narrow road cut through the hills, well-worn but not heavily traveled. Beyond it lay the faint outline of structures, low and scattered.
A settlement.
Not a pack stronghold. Too small. Too open.
Rogues, perhaps. Or neutral ground.
Either way, I needed supplies. And information.
I adjusted my cloak and made my way toward the road, keeping my senses alert. Every sound made me tense, every shift of shadow setting my heart racing. I half expected Caelen to appear again, stepping out of nowhere with that calm, infuriating certainty.
He did not.
By the time I reached the settlement, the sun was fully up. It was little more than a cluster of stone cottages and wooden buildings gathered around a central square. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys. The air smelled of bread and damp earth.
No pack banners flew here.
Relief washed through me, tentative but real.
I kept my head down as I entered, moving with the quiet caution learned from years of survival. A few people glanced my way, their gazes curious but not hostile. Humans. Shifters. A mix. No one paid me more attention than a passing glance.
For the first time in my life, I was invisible by choice.
I found a small market stall selling dried meat and bread. My hands shook slightly as I counted out the few coins I had managed to take with me. The vendor did not comment on my appearance, only nodded as he handed over the food.
I ate behind a low stone wall, savoring every bite. The simple act felt unreal. No one watching. No one waiting to take it away.
As I ate, I listened.
Travelers talked freely here. Of borders shifting. Of strange disturbances in the north. Of wolves restless under the moon.
One conversation made my blood chill.
"They say an ancient line stirred," a woman murmured to her companion. "White as moonlight. The kind that changes everything."
My grip tightened on the bread.
"So it's true?" the other asked.
"That's what they say. Alphas are losing their minds over it."
I swallowed hard, appetite gone.
I finished quickly and slipped away, heart pounding.
There was no denying it now. Whatever I was, whatever had awakened inside me, it was not quiet. It was a beacon. And the longer I stayed unshielded, the more dangerous this would become.
I needed somewhere hidden.
The answer came from a memory I had almost forgotten.
The Moon Goddess temple.
Not the grand one near my former pack, but the old shrines scattered across the land. Forgotten by most. Revered by few.
If there was anywhere I could find answers without immediately being claimed, it was there.
The nearest one lay days away, deep in the mountains.
I left the settlement before anyone could look at me twice, following a narrow trail that wound eastward. The terrain grew rougher as the day wore on, hills rising into jagged stone, paths narrowing into little more than goat tracks.
By nightfall, my body screamed for rest.
I found shelter beneath a rocky overhang, tucked far enough back to be hidden from casual sight. I gathered what little brush I could for warmth, then curled up, exhaustion dragging me down.
Sleep came fast.
Dreams did not.
I stood in a vast clearing bathed in silver light. The moon loomed impossibly large overhead, its glow sharp enough to hurt. The ground beneath my feet shimmered like frost.
"You run from what you are."
The voice was neither male nor female. It echoed from everywhere and nowhere.
"I run to survive," I replied, my voice steady despite the fear clawing at my chest.
A figure emerged from the light, tall and luminous, with features shifting too fluidly to define.
"You were never meant to kneel," the figure said. "But neither were you meant to walk alone."
"I didn't ask for this."
"No," the figure agreed. "But you will decide what comes of it."
The light intensified, pressing against my skin, sinking into my bones. Pain flared, sharp and searing, and I cried out as something inside me stirred violently.
White fur. Silver eyes. Power coiling and uncoiling like a living thing.
"You are awakening," the voice said. "And with awakening comes choice."
The ground cracked beneath my feet.
I woke with a gasp, sitting bolt upright.
Moonlight filtered into my shelter, pale and cold. My heart raced, my skin prickling as if electricity ran just beneath it.
For a terrifying moment, I thought I might change right there.
But it passed.
Barely.
I pressed my shaking hands to my chest, feeling my heart thunder.
Choice.
The word lingered.
I did not know what path lay ahead. I did not know how many would hunt me or how many would claim to love me once they realized what I was.
But one thing was clear.
I would not be dragged into my fate kicking and screaming.
I would walk into it with my head high.
Somewhere far away, under the same moon, bonds tightened and instincts howled. Alphas turned restless. Warriors dreamed of silver and white.
And Caelen, standing at the edge of his territory, lifted his face to the night air and breathed in, his jaw tightening.
She was moving again.
And this time, the world itself seemed to shift to follow her.