The cold of early morning was misted with Adrian's breathing; every exhalation took visible form in a puff into the frosty dawn. He plunged into a dense, ruthless forest. Chilly, it nipped at his clothes and sank into his bones, yet he went onward with a determination bordering on desperation. The rain, finally, subsided to that extent that the leaves, now soaked, were clinging to his boots in such a way that every step was nearly a tug of war against the thickly carpeted ground that was slick and muddy everywhere, with puddles acting almost like mirrors to the pale light of early day.
His heart was racing in his chest, not merely from the exertion of making his way through the landscape but from the urgent need driving him onward. It was a matter of urgency, and with each passing second, he knew another opportunity lost-one more moment in which Kiera would be farther out of reach than before. The physical pain-the deep gash running along his side that pulsed with every jolt of his body, the dull ache of bruises scattered over his body wasn't anything compared to the gnawing anxiety twisting in his gut. The surrounding woods loomed over him, oppressive and silent except for the infrequent rustle of leaves in the wind or a bird's faraway cry.
For days, Adrian had followed a trail that had led him through towns, across rivers, and over mountains. Every lead he gathered, every rumor pursued, took him closer to this moment. He almost could see it now in his mind's eye-that cabin deep in the thickest part of the woods, a place Kiera was known to seek out when she needed solitude. Once haven for her; refuge from the world, and all its intransigent demands. Now, his last hope.
His heart ran riot with a hopeless and terrible tangle. He had dreamed about this reunion now for what felt like an eternity, but real life's bearing of such a moment was fraught with so much uncertainty: would she again take him into her arms or turn him away, the wounds of their past too deep to heal? The mere vision of her, the sound of her voice, the glint of her eyes-an ache, now so sharp in his chest, though he knew better than to believe in happy endings, their story being far too convoluted, steeped as it was in betrayal and regret over what they shared.
The closer he gets, the thinner the forest becomes: the trees less dense, the underbrush less tangled. He knew he was getting close when he began to see the sure signs of human activity: a narrow path worn down by use, the acrid scent of smoke hanging heavy in the air. The surge of excitement quickened his pace as he scanned for a glimpse of what lay ahead until he finally burst into a small clearing.
There, nestled between the trees, was the cabin. It was exactly as he had envisioned it: a moderately sized, weathered structure with a sloping roof and small porch; its wood darkened through years and the elements. Smoke curled languidly from a small fire pit a short way off; the embers glowed faintly in the weak light. The windows were black, and no movement could be observed inside, but a set of footprints in the mud told him someone had been here recently.
The hope that he would find her here quickened Adrian's pulse; however, one set of tracks leading from the cabin told him she was gone. His heart fell in despair, but he refused to give in. He was too far away to turn back. He approached the cabin warily, his senses on full alert. Every rustling of leaves, every creak of wood, made him jump. It was too quiet in the woods; it was if the forest itself was holding its breath, waiting to see what transpired next.
He wavered there, at the door into the cabin, his hand stopping on it. Worn wood, peeling paint, rusty hinges-all spoke of a time long gone, one when it was not all gone so wrong. A moment, and he allowed himself to remember days when he and Kiera had been happy, when the world had seemed full of promise. But those days were gone, lost under the weight of their mistakes.
It was then that his hand reached for the door handle that a voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the silence.
"Freeze right there."
Adrian's heart jumped to his throat, and everything that he was doing just stood there fixed, his hand upon the door. The eyes whirred round, peering into the dark for recognition of whose voice was talking while he was out in the forest, dark - a maze of shades and shifting light. He cocked his ears, trying to make out from where it came.
A figure emerged from behind a tree; the furtive way in which he moved spoke of years and years of practice. The man was dressed in dark, practical garb, his features hidden beneath the hood of his cloak. In his hands he clutched a crossbow-the weapon aimed directly at Adrian. Little mistaking menace.
Adrian's head spun, and his eyes circled the room in a fraction of a second. Unarmed and open to an expectant attack-with nothing to defend himself with-the only thing he could hope was that he'd make it out alive from this 'changeroom', talking his way out of it somehow by getting through to this stranger that he did not mean him any harm.
Throwing up his hands, palms open, in a conciliatory gesture of surrender, he said now in an even voice, though his veins were coursing with a sudden flow of adrenaline, "Easy. I'm not here to start any trouble. I'm just here looking for Kiera."
The figure didn't lower the crossbow. His eyes-the only part of his face visible under his hood-were cold and calculating. "Kiera doesn't want to see you."
The words caused Adrian's heart to sink, but he made himself be strong of mind. He could not let this man shut him down, not now, not when he was all but there. "Please," he said, desperation tangling his voice. "I need to talk to her. It's important."
For a long moment, he got only a stare weighted with consideration. Lengthening into silence, the moment stretched between them, till the tension was palpable, almost thick enough to be cut with a knife. Finally, the man lowered the crossbow a fraction, though he kept it ready.
"Lucky for you," he said then-the suspicion was an edge in his voice-"she's not here. She's gone into town, stocking up on supplies."
Relief swarmed his chest, tempered by another tide of anxiety. Kiera was still close by, but she wasn't here. And if this man was any indication, she wasn't exactly champing at the bit to see him. "Can you tell me where she went?" Adrian asked, trying to keep the pleading tone from his voice.
He didn't say anything at all. Something churned in the pit of his stomach; he narrowed his eyes to glare hard at Adrian. Then, with a low, resigned sigh: "She's going to the general store out in Harrow's Edge. But let me warn you-you follow her, cause her a little more pain, you'll have to answer to me."
Adrian nodded, a wave of gratitude mixing with gnawing fear of what was to come washing over him. "Thanks," he said with great sincerity, realizing the threat not to be trifled with was in the man's voice. "I won't hurt her. I just need to talk."
The man nodded curtly and melted away into darkness once more, leaving Adrian to his own devices. Without ado, he set off in the direction of Harrow's Edge, quickening with every step despite the flaring pain. The forest was still a maze of treacherous paths, far from an easy journey, but this-the knowledge that Kiera was so close, he was on the brink of seeing her again-drove him onward.
Time grew muffled, and with drifting, Adrian veered onto a track that gradually pulled him in the direction of the woods' edge. The landscape buckled around him, trees thinning to rolling hills and roads arcing this way and that but generally going one way: toward the small town of Harrow's Edge. The sun was higher in the sky by that time, casting longer shadows as he at last emerged from forest and onto the outskirts of the town.
Slight, silent, and unobserved, the margin of Harrow wore some scattered houses, few shops, and, in the centre of it, an open space or square, where the people congregated on market-dams. First, and foremost was the general store-appropriately enough, "Miller's Goods,6 easy enough to spot: a low, weathered building with a faded sign that swayed lazily in the breeze. Adrian felt his heart hammer against his chest, his every step that much closer to a moment he had long expected yet dreaded at every turn.
He had stopped a minute outside the door to collect his thoughts. He opened it now; the bell above the entrance jingled sweetly where the atmosphere inside should have been inappropriately cheerful. The store was small and cluttered: goods lined its shelves, everything from canned goods to tools, and a few customers milled about-murmuring in the background.
Adrien's gaze swept the room and settled on her-or so he desperately hoped as his innards fell out from underneath him. Kiera stood at the far end of the store, her back to him while she perused a display of canned foods. She looked the same as he remembered, her dark hair cascading in loose waves down her back, tense and guarded, ready to spring into action at any second. Yet there was something in her, something that kicked his heart up into that achy ache of guilt and longing. She seemedsmaller, somehow, beaten out of her by the weight of their shared past.
"Kiera,
Kiera spun to the sound of his voice, her eyes locking with his in shock of surprise, in a disbelieving leap, with a flicker of something darker-anger, perhaps, or pain. Her face-a face he once had known so well-felt suddenly remote, some vague memory from another time and place. Yet the something he saw in her eyes, some spark of recognition; yet tainted by something that made his heart ache inside his chest.
"Adrian?" Her voice cut, accusatory, the shock evident in her voice. "What are you doing here?"
Adrian felt the weight of her gaze like a physical weight. He took one cautious step forward, his hands slightly outstretched in a gesture of peace. "Kiera, I. I had to find you. I need to talk to you."
Her face hardened and she stepped backward, crossing her arms over her chest. "You shouldn't be here," she said with steadfast resolve, though the lacing of hurt was surely heard in her voice. "You have no right to just show up like this."
"I know," Adrian returned, his tone thick with regret. "I know that I don't deserve even your forgiveness, or for that matter, your time. Please-just listen to me. There's something I should explain."
Kiera's eyes flashed with an indecipherable knot of emotion-anger, sorrow, something that almost resembled betrayal. "Explain?" she echoed, tone so incredulous. "Explain what? How you left me? How you betrayed everything we had?
Her words cut physically-her words cut as any knife could with fineness. "Aye," he finally managed to get out, his voice cracking with emotion. "I know I hurt ye. I know what I did was unforgivable. But there are things ye dinnae ken, things I couldnae tell ye before. I'm sorry, Kiera. I am so sorry."
The anger melted somewhat from Kiera's face, but it was as if the pain just felt so raw, so palpable in her eyes. "You think saying sorry is enough?" she asked, her voice shaking with emotions threatening to spill over. "You think it's gonna fix it all?
"No," Adrian whispered, his head shaking. "I know it's not. But I had to come, had to try and make things right. There's something you need to know, something that could change everything."
Kiera's face went from cold to wary curiosity. "What could possibly change anything now?" she asked, though the tone was tinged with cautious interest.
Adrian took a deep breath, clenching his teeth for what he needed to say. "There's a rogue Alpha," Adrian said, much more careful in his tone and weighting every word the way it would make an earthquake occur inside Kiera's eyes. "Somebody out there wants nothing more than to destroy everything we've built and worked our asses for, everything that we care about. The pack's in danger, Kiera. Everyone we know and everyone we care about is in jeopardy. And I need your help to stop him."
Kiera's eyes had gone round in incredulity; all anger forgotten. "A rogue Alpha?" she echoed low. "Why should I believe you, Adrian? You have lied to me before. How do I know this isn't another of your tricks?"
"I am not asking you to trust me," Adrian begged desperately. "I know I don't deserve that. This is real, Kiera; He's destroyed so much already, and he's not going to stop until he takes down everything we are fighting for. We have to stop him, and I can do absolutely nothing without you."
Kiera looked up at him, all warring emotions masked in her eyes, which searched his face as if looking for a lie. She said nothing at all for what felt like an eternity. Adrian watched the reflective battle that was reflected within her eyes. Finally, she exhaled with a slow, wearied breath.
"Why should I help you?" she snapped. "Why would I put myself out there and get hurt for something which never mattered to me?
"Because if we do not stop him, he will come for you too," Adrian says in a really deep, low, intensive voice. "He is ruthless, Keira. He will not stop until he gets what he wants, and that includes you. I know you owe me nothing, but please-I beg of you-help me protect our people; help me stop this before it's too late."
The weight of the world fell onto Kiera's shoulders as they slumped slightly. She looked around at the trinkets stocking the store's shelves, as if in search of something to anchor her amidst the storm Adrian had just unleashed.
She finally turned back to him, her face set in a steely line, though the hurt still shimmered in her eyes. "Fine," she said softly. "I'll help you. But that doesn't mean I forgive you, and that doesn't mean I will forget what you have done. I do this because it is the right thing to do, not because of you."
Relief washed over Adrian, but it was modulated by the surety that all this was just the first step in a long, arduous journey. "Thanks," he whispered, unmistakable sincerity lacing his tone. "I promise, I won't let you down."
Kiera nodded curtly, resolute. "Let's just get this over with," she said shortly, not wanting to debate. "We have a lot of work to do."
Coming out of the shop, walking side by side, words seemed to hang in the air between them, unresolved tension. Adrian felt that it was there, the distance separating them, the gulf his actions had created all this time, yet for the first time in a long while, that glimmer of hope was there, faint and fragile, yet there.
The streets of Harrow's Edge came alive-fit to bursting with the sounds of midday-as they stepped out into waiting sun. People moved here and there, tending to their business without a single inkling of the battle that was soon to play out in their midst. Adrian and Kiera fell into an uneasy rhythm together, feet stepping in time as minds already turned toward the task at hand.
So much hung in the balance with this moment, so much that could go horribly wrong. Yet as they walked together in silence, the tension between them palpable, Adrian felt a new sense of resolve. The road to redemption would go on to be long and hard, he knew, beset with trials and tribulations. But he also knew that for the first time in a long while, he wasn't facing that road alone.
They'd had a rogue Alpha to stop, a pack to protect and a past to face. And they were going to do that together-whether they liked it or not.
Each step, every movement that took them further into the uncertainty of their future as they turned their backs on Harrow's Edge, brought Adrian back to one unavoidable thought: was this where every decision and all those mistakes brought them? Somewhere out there, an Alpha waited in the dark, a threat to be hung over their heads.
But with Kiera now by his side, he felt for the first time that this was perhaps-something they might face together-and that he could hope, with any luck, not to be wholly beyond the reach of redemption.
They plunged into the void, their fates joined by the chains of a shared past, this bond they had hammered out tenuous at best, an agreement to safeguard those who mattered most to them, whom they loved. The path forward would be perilous, yet now they had each other.
And that was enough for a world so uncertain.