Chapter Two
Evie trudged through the dense forest, every step weighed down by anger and shame. The moonlight barely broke through the canopy above, casting fragmented patches of light on the forest floor. The quiet rustling of leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl reminded her just how alone she was now. Banished. The word echoed in her mind, an undeniable truth that felt like a punch to her chest every time she thought of it.
She stumbled on a root, cursing under her breath as she righted herself. Her body ached, but her heart throbbed even worse. She wanted to scream, to tear through the woods and release the rage building inside her. Lucian's words burned in her mind, a scar she knew would never truly fade. She'd been nothing more than a "pathetic mutt" to him, and he'd made sure everyone in the pack knew it.
As she walked, she sensed the forest changing, the familiar scent of her pack territory fading. A shiver crawled up her spine. She was crossing into unknown lands, where no one knew her name, where her past wouldn't follow her. A new fear mingled with her anger, making her steps slower and more cautious. The realization of her isolation struck her again, a chill that settled deep within.
She stopped, taking a deep breath. "No one's here to save you, Evie," she whispered, her voice barely audible. But even as she tried to brace herself, she felt a prickle of unease—a sense that she wasn't truly alone.
The snap of a twig made Evie's head whip around. She squinted into the dark, scanning the shadowed trees, but saw nothing. Her heartbeat quickened as she listened, every nerve on edge. She wasn't sure if it was paranoia or instinct, but something felt off. The forest was too quiet, as though holding its breath. Another sound, this time a low rustling, came from somewhere behind her.
Her fingers curled into fists, nails digging into her palms as she focused on the sound. "Show yourself," she muttered, barely loud enough to break the silence.
A figure emerged from the darkness, moving with a silent, predatory grace. A man. He was tall, lean, with dark, unkempt hair falling over piercing amber eyes that seemed to glow even in the shadows. Evie's muscles tensed, ready to bolt, but something in his gaze held her in place.
"You're far from home, aren't you?" His voice was smooth, with a hint of amusement that made her bristle. She kept her chin high, refusing to let him see her fear.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice steadier than she felt.
The man tilted his head, studying her with an intensity that made her skin prickle. "Someone who knows what it feels like to be cast out," he replied, his gaze never leaving hers.
Evie took a step back, trying to put some distance between herself and the stranger. He didn't move, just watched her with a calm, calculating expression that unsettled her even more. She had no idea who he was or what he wanted, but there was something about his presence—an undeniable air of danger mixed with an odd sense of familiarity.
"I didn't ask for sympathy," she said, her voice sharper than she intended.
The stranger smirked, a faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Good. I'm not offering any." He took a slow step forward, closing the distance she'd tried to create. "But you should know—these woods aren't as welcoming as you might hope. Not for someone… unclaimed."
Evie's jaw tightened. She'd heard that word enough for one lifetime. "I can take care of myself."
"Is that so?" His gaze dropped to the scratches on her hands, the bruises forming on her arms. "You look like you've been through a lot already."
Evie straightened, ignoring the ache in her muscles. "What do you care?"
The stranger's expression softened, just for a second. "Maybe I don't," he said, his voice lower. "But I know what it's like to be alone in these woods. And trust me, they can be unforgiving."
Evie held his gaze, the flicker of warning in his eyes giving her pause. She'd spent her life surrounded by people who either ignored her or outright despised her. But this man—this stranger—looked at her with something she couldn't quite place. Was it pity? Curiosity? Whatever it was, it unsettled her.
"Why are you here?" she asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and wariness. "Are you… following me?"
The man let out a low chuckle. "You flatter yourself, little wolf. I don't follow anyone." He paused, his expression turning serious. "But I felt… something. A change in the air. Like someone had crossed into lands they don't belong."
Evie bristled. "I don't belong anywhere," she replied, a bitter edge to her voice.
His gaze softened. "That's where you're wrong." He glanced at the shadows around them, then back to her. "These woods are full of souls like yours. Lost, wandering, clinging to memories of what was taken from them."
A silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken understanding.
"Come with me," he said, his voice steady but leaving no room for argument. Evie's instincts screamed to refuse, but there was something about him, something that hinted at safety, or at least knowledge. In her gut, she knew he wasn't a threat—yet.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked, her voice quieter now, tempered by exhaustion and curiosity.
"To a place where you'll be safe," he replied, nodding toward the dense thicket behind him. "For now. At least until you know what you're up against."
Evie hesitated, glancing back into the forest she'd come from. There was nothing left for her there, only memories she wished she could forget. She turned back to the stranger, eyes narrowed. "Fine. But if this is some kind of trick…"
He raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. "Trust me, I've got no reason to trick you. You're more valuable than you realize, Evie."
The sound of her name from his lips sent a shiver through her. She didn't know whether it was fear, intrigue, or something else entirely. Without another word, she nodded, following him into the shadows as the forest swallowed them whole, her heart pounding with the uncertainty of what lay ahead.
"How are you so sure of that?