The moon was low in the sky now, a pale crescent that hardly seemed to penetrate the dense forest. Kiera moved with quiet, fluid ease through the underbrush, her senses on high alert. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig sent a jolt of adrenaline through her system. They'd barely left the cave after sundown and pressed deeper into the mountains, on a route Adrian said would bring them to one of his old contacts—a werewolf named Rowan who lived at the edge of pack territory. It was supposed to be a quiet journey, a way to avoid attention they didn't want; Kiera just couldn't shake this feeling they were being watched.
Adrian was several paces in front of her, confident, sure steps as if he had walked this way a hundred times before. Kiera tried to keep pace with him, her eyes scouring the darkness around them, which seemed to close in around them. Too quiet, the forest was unnervingly quiet, and that set her nerves on edge.
You're certain of that?" Kiera whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over the quiet crunching of their footsteps.
Adrian glanced back over his shoulder; his face unreadable in the poor light. "It's our best bet," he returned low. "Rowan is trustable. If anyone can help us, it's him.
Kiera nodded, but that knot in her stomach just about refused to unravel. She so desperately wanted to trust Adrian-to believe that he knew what he was doing-but how could she when gnawing fear dug at her insides? It was a memory still fresh within her brain: the violence, the chaos, the blood. She had barely escaped with her life, and the thought of running into them again was almost too much to bear.
They moved on, silent for the most part, every step carrying them deeper into a denser forest. The trees here were taller, their limbs twisting to interlock with others and to form a close canopy that excluded much of the moonlight. Kiera could feel the temperature drop, the air colder and heavier as if the forest itself pressed down upon them.
"Adrian," she whispered, her voice trembling. "What if they're already here? What if they know where we're going?"
Adrian halted and turned to her. His eyes were stone, unyielding. "If they did, they would have struck by now," he said in a quiet tone. "Still, you are right to be cautious. We cannot afford to take any chances.
His hand reached out and caught her, the hold firm but light. "Stick close to me," he repeated, his voice softening. "We'll get through this.
Kiera swallowed hard and nodded, her fingers clutching his a little tighter. The warmth of his touch was little solace; it did very little for her apprehension. They continued onward, though much more cautiously now. Every few feet Adrian would stop, head cocked, listening intently to the sounds of the forest, peering around in the shadows for any danger.
The minutes crawled by like hours as they pushed deeper into the undergrowth. It was as if the very walls of stifling darkness and oppressive silence closed in around her. Kiera's heart thundered in her chest, the sound thrumming in her ears, while her breathing came quickly, in shallow gasps. She tried to turn her mind toward the path ahead-the feel of Adrian's hand within hers-but it was as if the fear had been some living thing, clawing at her insides, threatening to devour her, alive.
Just about the time Kiera was starting to think that they might actually get away, Adrian suddenly drew to a halt, his body rigid. He threw up a hand-the universal sign that she should stop. Literally, Kiera's heart skipped a beat as she did so, her eyes wide with fear.
"What is it?" she whispered.
Adrian didn't say another word. His eyes spear the blackness of the distance, his body a tightly coiled spring-ready to leap at any instant. Kiera strained her ears, trying to catch what he was hearing, but all she could make out was the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze.
Then she heard it, a low growl, soft yet distinct. Her blood ran cold; her heart leaped into her throat. There was the sudden snapping of a twig and the rustling of something big moving through the underbrush. The growl came once more this time louder, closer.
"Adrian…," Kiera breathed in barely above whisper, weak-a quiver, words shaking as her grasp on his hand tightened.
"Stay cool," Adrian whispered, though he was wired. He released her hand and reached for the knife at his belt. "We have no idea how many we'll be facing, but we need to be ready.
Kiera nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched her small blade to her. She was no fighter, not like Adrian, but she knew she wasn't going to just lay there and be harmless. Not when she had seen what the helpless endured—what she could be made to endure or experience.
The growling grew louder, more insistent. Kiera tried to dart her eyes everywhere, pinpointing the origin of that sound, but the shadows were just too thick and every movement seemed to come from all directions at once. Her breath caught in her throat as a dark shape materialised from the trees in front of them.
It was a wolf, black as midnight, eyes glowing with an eldritch yellow light. For a moment, it just stood there watching them—watching and weighing. Then, with a malicious calculation, it bared its teeth, the low, menacing growl rumbling from the bottom of its chest.
Adrian stepped forward then, placing himself between Kiera and the wolf. "We're not here to fight," he said, his voice smooth yet firm. "We're just passing through."
It didn't move farther, eyes fixed intently on Adrian in a way that was very disconcerting. Kiera's heart was racing, screaming internally to run, to flee, but her feet would not budge-paralyzed by fear.
Then came another rustling in the bushes to their right. Kiera's head jerked in its direction. A second wolf materialized, larger than the first, its fur a mottled gray. It came to stand with the first; its eyes were just as predatory, just as hungry.
"We're surrounded," Kiera whispered, her voice shaking.
Adrian said nothing else, his gaze nailed intently upon the wolves. He lifted his knife-the blade shone palely in the moonlight. "If they attack," he whispered, "don't hold back. Fight with everything you have.
Kiera swallowed, her grip on the blade forcing her knuckles to turn white. Had she ever been in this position? No—or actually, she hadn't been put in a position where she was supposed to fight for her life ever before. It was bonding out, suffocating, but she knew she couldn't afford to panic. Not now.
The wolves began to circle them, the movements sinuous as their bodies sliding along the floor-with a grace only a predator could pull off. Kiera could see muscles coiled in them, eyes glinting with an intent nothing short of malevolent. They were but biding their time and waiting for just that right moment-an invitation, really-by way of weakness.
Adrian stood paralyzed, staring fixedly at the wolves. "On the count of three, run," he breathed quietly into Kiera's ear. "To the river—the only way."
Kiera's heart had raced in her ears. "And what about you?"
"I'll be right behind you," Adrian volunteered, but his eyes flitted a spark of doubt.
One of them, before Kiera could say anything, sprang. A blur of fur and teeth, it was on them with terrifying speed. Adrian responded in the blink of an eye, swinging his knife in a wide arc. The blade whistled through the air, biting into the wolf's side. A yelp of pain escaped its jaws; it tumbled backward but didn't stop.
"Go!" Adrian shouted, his voice slicing the chaos.
As if she needed to be told. Kiera yanked around and began to run, her legs pumping as fast as they could carry this load. The snarls and growls behind her were definitely real, but she could not bear to look back. Adrian's footfalls stayed right behind her as he struggled to keep up, his breath heavy from the effort of running.
The trees blurred into a dizzying whirl around her, whipping past in flashes; her lungs were on fire, and her heart slammed against her chest, but she didn't stop, couldn't stop-not with the wolves on their tail.
Ahead of her now came the sound of rushing water. The river. Just a little further ahead, and they just might make it.
But just when she thought they might make it, a third wolf appeared bursting from the underbrush in her path; Kiera skidded to a stop. Her heart leapt into her throat. The wolf snarled, his eyes glinting with malice.
"Kiera!" Adrian's voice was husky with the effort of sliding to a stop beside her. He raised his knife, prepared to fend off this new menace, but in his eyes Kiera could see the weariness, the strain in the movement. He was running on fumes.
The wolf snarled again, tensed to lunge. Kiera could feel her breath hitch in her throat, thoughts racing. She couldn't let Adrian do this alone. Summoning every last bit of courage within herself, Kiera took a single step forward, her blade ready.
The wolf's eyes flicked her way, its lips curling back to reveal razor-sharp, gleaming fangs. It was poised to strike, to take them both down.
As the wolf sprang, there burst from the copse a tremendous howla sound much deeper and more resonant than any other tone seemed to vibrate the very air itself. The wolves, feeling that sound, braked sharply, their erect ears cocked and staring wide with alarm.