Chapter 2 Chapter 2

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By the time I stumbled to the riverbank, my throat felt like I'd swallowed sandpaper.

I'd been running nonstop all night, and my lungs were screaming for a break.

What you need is to let me take over, my wolf said quietly in the back of my head.

Yeah… you're right, I managed, still gasping.

I reached for the shift.

It didn't feel like splitting in two or turning into something foreign. It was more like my body finally stretched out, like a door unlocking after being jammed shut for too long.

I barely shift in the pack since most of them thought I don't have a wolf.

My bones shifted with soft, muffled pops, and suddenly the world snapped into sharp focus every smell, every sound, every heartbeat hitting me like high definition...

Damp earth, far-off prey, the sharp stink of my own fear, the crawling ants in the group and the flapping of a nearby bird… it all laid out in front of me like a living map.

When it was done, I stood on four legs: silver-grey fur, the same scar cutting over one eye that I carried on my human face.

I gave my pelt a hard shake. I was still Nova. But I was also Alia now. my wolf. We were finally one.

And then we ran. Really ran.

What the hell have I done? The thought kept looping in my mind, half sobbing. I can still feel him Drake's essence sitting inside me like it's part of me now.

Why do I have to be the monster they always said I was

Oh, for Goddess's sake, stop whining and toughen up, Alia cut in sharply.

He deserved every second of it. He's been nothing but a bully and a coward. We've had more than enough.

But I killed him, I whispered back, terror curling tight in my chest. What does that make me?

It makes him gone, she said flatly. And he can't hurt us anymore. That's what matters.

Ohhh goddess!!!

For the next two days and nights, we moved like one creature trying to disappear.

We drank from icy streams, our tongue curling the cold water in perfect sync.

We snatched a slow, fat ground bird, and the rush of Alia's satisfaction flooded straight through me.

We curled up in a damp hollow to sleep, our shared breath keeping the chill away, ears flicking at every rustle in the dark.

All the while, that stolen piece of Drake pulsed inside me like a second heartbeat hot, wrong, and impossible to ignore.

On the third morning, everything shifted.

The heavy, musky scent-marks of Silverfang just… stopped.

Like someone had drawn a hard line in the dirt. The air on the other side hit different crisp, high, tasting of flint and pine and something clean and fiercely dominant that made the fur stand up along our spine.

New pack, the realization clicked into place, pieced together from old warnings I'd overheard from the pack and Alia's raw instinct. Nightcrest. Strong. They don't forgive.

We can't go back, I thought.

Alia's answer came fierce and protective: Then we walk the edge. Better to face the unknown than the wolves we know want us dead.

We stepped over the line.

The scents here were overwhelming a whole new history scratched into every tree and rock.

We stayed low, slipping through the undergrowth like smoke. We'd barely covered a mile when the wind turned traitor and whipped around, carrying our scent sweat, fear, the strange silver chill of my healing gift, and that ugly, smoky stain of what I'd taken straight back the way we'd come.

A howl cut the air. Not the long, mournful kind, but short and sharp a question. Another answered from the east, then one from the north.

Hunters, Alia said, alarm spiking through us like lightning. Three of them. They've got our trail.

Run?

Run!!.

We bolted. Our body turned into pure speed, Alia's old instincts guiding us through brambles, over streams, across jagged rocks.

But the wolves behind us weren't sloppy or random this is their territory and they are familiar with the woods.

They moved like a unit—barks that weren't just noise, but coded signals. They were herding us, blocking paths, pushing us higher up a crumbling shale slope.

They're driving us, Alia realized, frustration burning hot. They know every inch of this place.

Where the land finally says stop.

We crashed through the last thick wall of brush into a small rocky clearing. And the land said stop. A sheer granite cliff loomed straight up behind us smooth, slick, impossible to climb. Our heart slammed against our ribs.

We spun around. Three wolves stepped into view. Massive, thick-coated, eyes cold and sharp. A grey male. A russet female. And the leader is jet black, bigger than the rest, his presence hitting like a shockwave even from across the clearing.

His eyes were pale green, piercing.

They spread out, silent and deliberate.

The grey one lunged first. We snapped back, lost our balance.

Follow by a defensive growls coming from everyone.

The russet slammed her shoulder into our side. Air whooshed out of us in a sharp yelp. We staggered, legs buckling. This wasn't a fight. It was a takedown.

The black wolf let out one low chuff. The others froze mid-step and backed off. He walked forward slowly. His eyes weren't on our teeth or our cowering posture they were locked on ours.

He saw us. Really saw us.

The shift back hit me like my body just gave up. One second I was wolf, panting and cornered; the next the fur melted away, claws retracted, and I collapsed onto my knees in the moss naked, shaking, skin prickling in the cold air.

My silver-blonde hair fell in greasy clumps around my face, hiding nothing.

I couldn’t look up. Shame felt heavier than the wind. Shame for being bare, for being this weak, for the dark, stolen thing still burning low in my chest like a coal I couldn’t spit out. Three wolves stood over me two still in fur, one now a tall man who’d just shifted back and their presence pressed down until I wanted to sink into the earth.

The air around him rippled with heat. In seconds, a man stood there tall, built like he was carved from the forest itself, skin tanned, hair the same midnight black. Strong jaw. And those eyes… still that unnerving, calm green.

He didn't draw a weapon. Didn't bark an order. He just looked at us, and in the deepest part of me, something massive shifted. A golden chord hummed through every bone, every nerve pure recognition. It drowned out the burning thorn of Drake's essence for one perfect second. It was terrifying. It felt like coming home to a place I'd never been allowed to imagine.

His eyes widened. He felt it too. the shock was written all over his face.

He took one more step and dropped to one knee in the moss, bringing himself down to our level. When he spoke, his voice was low and deep, vibrating straight through me.

“Moonlight and scars,” he murmured, like he was saying something holy.

“Who are you?”

We didn't have words. We just stared back, our ragged breathing finally slowing, caught in the pull of those green eyes that somehow already knew us.

The hunt was over.

Something else had just begun.