The woods thinned as the first rays of dawn broke through the canopy, painting the forest floor in muted golds and silvers. My legs burned with every step, but I couldn't stop. Not yet. Not until I was far away from him, from the Nevermore pack, from everything that could lead him to me.
As the sky lightened, the air changed. The crisp, earthy scent of the forest gave way to something sharper—smoke from chimneys, the metallic tang of wrought iron, and the faint aroma of bread baking somewhere far off. I was close to a human town, a small one nestled near the DuskReaver pack's border.
I emerged from the forest and found myself standing at the edge of cobblestone streets lined with gas lamps, their warm glow fading as the morning light overtook them. The town looked like it warped from another time, its narrow lanes flanked by tall, gothic buildings adorned with intricate ironwork and dark, ivy-covered facades. Wrought iron gates creaked in the morning air, and the heavy wooden doors of the buildings sculpted with ornate patterns that spoke of age and history.
The windows were tall and narrow, framed by black shutters that gave the town an air of mystery. Even the storefronts seemed steeped in the past, their signs written in looping, elegant script. A bakery with frosted panes displayed delicate pastries, while a tailor's shop boasted mannequins dressed in Victorian-style coats and dresses.
The town was quiet, its residents just beginning to stir. A milk cart clattered down the street, the driver's face shadowed beneath a wide-brimmed hat, while a young woman in a dark cloak swept the stoop of what looked like a bookshop. They glanced at me as I passed, their gazes lingering, no doubt taking in my torn clothes and disheveled state.
I pulled my hood lower, quickening my pace as I scanned the streets for somewhere to stay. The town may have had an elegant facade, but its edges aged. Beneath the polished ironwork and carved stone, there was a layer of grime, a faint sense of decay that reminded me this place was far from perfect—and that suited me just fine.
At last, I spotted a small inn at the far end of the street. Its sign, hanging from a wrought iron bracket, read The Crescent Haven, the words painted in faded silver against black wood. The building itself was tall and narrow, with ivy creeping up its stone walls and a soft glow coming from the lace-curtained windows. It looked old and worn, but it had a certain charm.
I pushed open the heavy oak door, a small bell above it chiming softly, and stepped into the dimly lit interior. The air smelled faintly of lavender and old wood, and the floorboards creaked beneath my boots. A weary-looking innkeeper glanced up from the counter, his eyes narrowing in slight as he took in my appearance.
"I need a room," I said, my voice hoarse from running.
He hesitated, his gaze flicking to the mud on my boots and the tear in my sleeve, but he nodded. "How long?"
"Just for tonight," I said quickly, digging into my pocket for what little money I had left.
He slid a key across the counter without another word, and I took it, grateful for the silence. Clutching the key tightly, I headed up the creaking staircase, each step feeling heavier than the last. By the time I reached the small room at the end of the hall, I was trembling—not from fear, but from exhaustion.
The room was simple but clean, with a narrow bed draped in a dark, quilted blanket, a small writing desk beneath a lace-curtained window, and a single candle flickering on the nightstand. It wasn't much, but it was enough. For now, it was enough.
As I locked the door behind me, leaning against the cool wood, I finally let out the breath I had been holding. I had made it. I had escaped—for now. But deep down, I knew this was only the beginning.
I locked the door behind me, leaning against it as if the world's weight rested on my back. My breath came in uneven gasps, my lungs burning from the run. Slowly, I slid to the floor, the cold wood pressing against me, grounding me in a way I desperately needed.
The water streamed over me, stinging at first as it hit the minor cuts and scrapes I had accumulated from my frantic escape. I let out a shaky breath, leaning against the cool tiles. It felt like the water was trying to wash away more than just the dirt and blood—it was trying to strip away the weight of the memories that clung to me. But some stains don't wash off.
As the steam filled the tiny bathroom, I felt my body begin to heal. The small gashes on my arms and legs closed, leaving behind smooth, unblemished skin. Bruises faded like shadows retreating from the dawn. My muscles, screaming in protest moments ago, relaxed under the hot spray.
Healing faster than most wolves was a blessing of my Nyxlith lineage, though right now, it felt more like a reminder of everything I'd lost. Every rapid mend was another tether to the bloodline my father had tried to tear from me, another reason why he'd hunt me to the ends of the earth.
I closed my eyes, speaking softly into the depths of my mind. "When I'm done here, we'll head into town. Find a job. Start earning enough to leave this place. We can't keep running forever, Seraphine." My voice cracked slightly on the last word, but I forced it steady.
Her presence unfurled in my mind like the slow stretch of a shadow. Her voice, rich and smooth like midnight silk, wrapped around me. And what, exactly, do you think a job will accomplish? Coins won't save us when his claws are at your throat.
I winced, her words hitting closer to home than I wanted to admit. "We can't keep sleeping in the woods. We need money for food and supplies. For somewhere to stay." I ran my hands through my wet hair, wincing as my fingers caught in the tangles. "We need to live, Seraphine, not just survive."
Do you think hiding in some human town will keep him from finding us? Her voice was a growl now, sharp and low. This town is too close to the border. Too close to DuskReaver lands.
"Do you think I don't know that?" I snapped, slamming my palm against the tile. The sharp sound echoed in the small space, and for a moment, the only other sound was the rush of water. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my emotions from spilling over. "I don't have a choice, Seraphine. Or do you think we should just keep running until I collapse?"
Seraphine was silent momentarily, her anger simmering in the back of my mind. Then, she spoke again, her tone softer though no less intense. You're not weak, Aurelia. You're not prey. Stop acting like it.
Her words stung, but they ignited a fire in my chest. "I'm not acting like prey," I said firmly, stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel. The threadbare fabric scraped against my skin as I dried myself off. "I'm trying to be smart. Running blind isn't strength, Seraphine. It's desperation."
She huffed a low sound that rumbled through me like distant thunder. And staying here isn't? You're too trusting of this place. Do you think the humans won't notice your eyes, hair, or scent?
"They won't." I wrapped the towel around me and turned to face the fogged mirror. My reflection stared back, blurred and ghostly. I reached out, wiping a hand across the glass until my face appeared. My silver-white eyes glimmered faintly, their glow dulled but still striking. My hair, dark as the endless night sky, shimmered with streak
We made it, I told myself, though the words felt hollow. My chest ached with the emptiness left by the shattered pack bond, the silence in my mind where voices once lingered. It felt like a gaping wound, raw and pulsing with every beat of my heart.
But not all silence remained. In the depths of my mind, Seraphine stirred. Her voice, low and steady, rippled through me like the whisper of a midnight wind. Barely. Your legs feel like they are lead, and you've been bleeding for hours. You can't keep this pace forever.
Her tone was clipped, almost scolding, but beneath it was a thread of concern that she couldn't hide.
This town will do for now, I answered her, closing my eyes and letting my head rest against the door. Long enough to catch my breath. Long enough to plan.
Plan? Her voice carried a sharpness now, like claws dragging across stones. You mean long enough to stumble onto your next catastrophe. Hiding here is a mistake. It's too close to the border. Too close to them.
Do you think I don't know that? My response came out harsher than I intended, my frustration bubbling over. I don't have a choice, Seraphine. Or did you forget the part where my father is hunting us down like prey?
She growled softly, the sound reverberating through my chest. I haven't forgotten. I'll never forget. But running on instinct alone will get us killed. We're stronger than this, Aurelia. You're stronger than this.
I pushed myself up, my muscles protesting with every movement, and walked toward the bathroom. My steps were heavy, the floorboards groaning beneath me, but Seraphine's words stuck with me, pushing me forward.
The bathroom was small, its tiles cracked and stained with time. A tarnished mirror hung crookedly above a porcelain sink, and the clawfoot tub in the corner looked like it had weathered decades of use. Still, it was a luxury compared to the forest floor I'd slept on the night before.
I turned the faucet, and the shower sputtered to life, hot water streaming from the rusted showerhead. Steam rose, curling around the room like ghostly tendrils, softening the edges of the space.
You should've let me take over, Seraphine said, her voice softer now, though it carried an edge of frustration. You're running yourself into the ground. I could've carried us farther, faster.
I hesitated, my fingers curling around the edge of the sink. This made a beacon for him to find us. He'd see your light from miles away, Seraphine. You know that.
She was silent momentarily, her presence coiling like a shadow in the back of my mind. When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter, almost resigned. I hate this. I hate seeing you like this. Exhausted. Broken. Hiding.
I stepped into the shower, letting the water cascade over me. The heat stung against the cuts and bruises on my skin, but I welcomed it. The water washed away the dirt and blood, but it couldn't touch the ache deep inside me.
I hate it too, I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. But we don't have a choice. Not right now. We just need to survive.
Seraphine's response was a low, rumbling growl full of simmering anger and unspoken promises. Survive then. Rest. Though don't forget what we are, Aurelia. We are not prey. We are not weak. When the time comes, we will fight. We will make them pay.
Her words sent a shiver through me, a fierce determination kindling somewhere deep within my chest. She was right. I couldn't let myself fall into despair; I couldn't let fear consume me. For now, I would rest. But one day, when the time was right, I would rise.
The water streamed over me, stinging at first as it hit the minor cuts and scrapes I had accumulated from my frantic escape. I let out a shaky breath, leaning against the cool tiles. It felt like the water was trying to wash away more than just the dirt and blood—it was trying to strip away the weight of the memories that clung to me. But some stains don't wash off.
As the steam filled the tiny bathroom, I felt my body begin to heal. The small gashes on my arms and legs closed, leaving behind smooth, unblemished skin. Bruises faded like shadows retreating from the dawn. My muscles, screaming in protest moments ago, relaxed under the hot spray.
Healing faster than most wolves was a blessing of my Nyxlith lineage, though right now, it felt more like a reminder of everything I'd lost. Every rapid mend was another tether to the bloodline my father had tried to tear from me, another reason why he'd hunt me to the ends of the earth.
I closed my eyes, speaking softly into the depths of my mind. " When I'm done here, we'll head into town. Find a job. Start earning enough to leave this place. We can't keep running forever, Seraphine." My voice cracked slightly on the last word, but I forced it steady.
Her presence unfurled in my mind like the slow stretch of a shadow. Her voice, rich and smooth like midnight silk, wrapped around me. And what, exactly, do you think a job will accomplish? Coins won't save us when his claws are at your throat.
I winced, her words hitting closer to home than I wanted to admit. "We can't keep sleeping in the woods. We need money for food and supplies. For somewhere to stay." I ran my hands through my wet hair, wincing as my fingers caught in the tangles. "We need to live, Seraphine, not just survive."
Do you think hiding in some human town will keep him from finding us? Her voice was a growl now, sharp and low. This town is too close to the border. Too close to DuskReaver lands.
"Do you think I don't know that?" I snapped, slamming my palm against the tile. The sharp sound echoed in the small space, and for a moment, the only other sound was the rush of water. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my emotions from spilling over. "I don't have a choice, Seraphine. Or do you think we should just keep running until I collapse?"
Seraphine was silent momentarily, her anger simmering in the back of my mind. Then, she spoke again, her tone softer though no less intense. You're not weak, Aurelia. You're not prey. Stop acting like it.
Her words stung, but they ignited a fire in my chest. "I'm not acting like prey," I said firmly, stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel. The threadbare fabric scraped against my skin as I dried myself off. "I'm trying to be smart. Running blind isn't strength, Seraphine. It's desperation."
She huffed a low sound that rumbled through me like distant thunder. And staying here isn't? You're too trusting of this place. Do you think the humans won't notice your eyes, your hair, or even your scent?
"They won't." I wrapped the towel around me and turned to face the fogged mirror. My reflection stared back, blurred and ghostly. I reached out, wiping a hand across the glass until my face appeared. My silver-white eyes glimmered faintly, their glow dulled but still striking. My hair, dark as the endless night sky, shimmered with streaks of violet and silver, like moonlight captured in strands. "I'll keep my hood up. Blend in as much as I can."
You? Blend in? Seraphine's laugh was dry, almost bitter. You dressed like a specter of the past, and your aura burns like a beacon, but okay. If this is your plan, I'll follow. Just don't expect me to keep quiet if it all falls apart.
"I wouldn't dream of it," I murmured, a small, humorless smile tugging at my lips.
I moved back into the main room, pulling on the only clean clothes I had left. The dark, layered fabrics clung to my frame, combining practicality and my usual Victorian-inspired style. It was far from inconspicuous, but it was all I had.
As I laced up my boots, Seraphine's voice came again, softer now. You know I only push because I care. You're my other half, Aurelia. I need you safe. Whole.
Her words sent a pang through my chest, and I paused, my hands trembling slightly. "I know," I whispered. "And I promise, I'll do everything I can to keep us alive. To keep us free."
Then let's go, she said, her voice a low, steady hum of resolve. The longer we wait, the closer he can get.
I slipped my cloak over my shoulders, pulling the hood low over my face. My heart was steady now, my resolve stronger. With a deep breath, I stepped out of the room and into the unknown, determined to forge a new path, no matter the dangers ahead.