The moon hung high above the forest, casting a pale glow over the endless stretch of trees. Lyra stumbled forward, her bare feet aching from the cold ground, her body trembling with exhaustion. Her thin, torn dress clung to her, offering little protection against the biting wind. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stave off the chill as tears streamed down her face.
She had nothing. No home. No family. No future.
Darius hadn't even allowed her to gather her belongings. He had stripped her of her dignity and cast her out like a stray. As much as she tried to push forward, every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of rejection crushing her spirit.
"Lyra!"
The voice startled her, echoing through the stillness of the forest. She froze mid-step, her heart racing. Slowly, she turned, her tears blurring the sight of Sarah sprinting toward her. Relief coursed through her veins as Sarah threw her arms around her in a tight embrace.
"Thank the moon I found you!" Sarah exclaimed, her voice shaky with emotion. "God, Lyra, he didn't even let you change your clothes?"
Lyra sniffled, her voice breaking. "I-I'm okay."
"No, you're not." Sarah pulled away and shrugged off her own jacket, draping it over Lyra's shoulders. She handed her a bundle of clean clothes. "Here, put this on. It's freezing out here."
Lyra hesitated, her eyes welling up with gratitude. "Thank you, Sarah. But you shouldn't have come. If Alpha Darius finds out—"
"I don't care what Darius does," Sarah interrupted, her tone firm. "He's crossed every line tonight. I can't sit back and watch him treat you like this."
Lyra lowered her gaze, guilt twisting in her stomach. "I don't blame him, Sarah. I'm weak. I'm wolfless. What Alpha would want someone like me?"
Sarah's expression hardened, her fiery determination igniting. "No. Don't you dare say that about yourself. You're not weak, Lyra. You're one of the strongest people I know. The fact that you've survived this long in our pack, with everything they've done to you, proves it."
Lyra shook her head. "I can't shift, Sarah. I'm an omega. That's all I'll ever be."
"You can fight better than most wolves in the pack, and we both know it," Sarah said, her voice rising. "Not being able to shift doesn't make you less. If anything, it makes you stronger."
The truth in Sarah's words stung, but Lyra couldn't bring herself to believe them. "It doesn't matter," she murmured. "Darius made his decision. I just need to leave before things get worse."
Sarah glanced over her shoulder, her expression shifting to one of urgency. "That's the thing, Lyra. You need to hide. Now."
"Hide?" Lyra frowned. "Why? He already cast me out."
Sarah stepped closer, lowering her voice. "My brother is unstable. He's not just letting you leave. He's hunting you."
Lyra's heart skipped a beat. "H-Hunting me? But why? I haven't done anything!"
"I don't know," Sarah admitted, her voice breaking. "I overheard him talking to the warriors. He wants you dead, Lyra. I think it's some twisted way of saving face. He doesn't want anyone to know he was ever bonded to a wolfless mate."
The words hit Lyra like a punch to the gut. Her legs trembled as panic threatened to overtake her. "I… I don't understand. What did I do to deserve this?"
"You did nothing," Sarah insisted, gripping her shoulders. "This is his cruelty, not your failure. But you need to run. Far away. As fast as you can."
Lyra felt a sob rise in her throat, but she forced it down. "Where would I even go? I don't have anywhere."
"I packed you some things," Sarah said, thrusting a small bag into Lyra's hands. "There's food, clothes, and a little money. It's not much, but it should help you get by until you find a safe place."
Tears blurred Lyra's vision as she clutched the bag to her chest. "Thank you, Sarah. For everything. You've done so much for me already."
Sarah cupped Lyra's face in her hands, her own eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I'll find you, Lyra. I promise. Just stay safe. Survive. And don't give up, okay?"
Lyra nodded, her throat too tight to speak. She hugged Sarah one last time, savoring the warmth of her only friend, before turning and disappearing into the shadows of the forest.
Lyra pressed forward, her senses on high alert. The further she got from the Crimson Fang Pack, the safer she felt—or so she thought. A rustling sound to her left sent a jolt of fear through her. She froze, her pulse hammering in her ears.
The sound came again, louder this time.
"Who's there?" she called, her voice trembling.
The only response was a low, menacing growl.
Panic surged through her as she broke into a run, her bare feet pounding against the forest floor. The growls grew louder, followed by the thunderous sound of paws chasing her.
"Help!" she screamed, though she knew no one would come.
Before she could react, a rogue wolf lunged at her from the shadows, its massive jaws sinking into her shoulder. Lyra let out a bloodcurdling scream as pain seared through her body. She clawed at the wolf, desperate to free herself, but its claws raked across her side, drawing fresh blood.
"Please," she sobbed, her strength fading. "Stop…"
The rogue growled, its teeth snapping inches from her throat. Just as it prepared to strike the fatal blow, a blur of black fur slammed into it, knocking it off her.
Lyra collapsed to the ground, her vision swimming. She could hear snarling and growling as more wolves joined the fray, but her body refused to move.
"You're in Blackmoon Pack territory!" a commanding voice bellowed. "If you value your lives, leave now!"
Blackmoon Pack.
The name sent a shiver down her spine. Everyone knew about the Blackmoon Pack. They were ruthless, feared by allies and enemies alike. Being in their territory was a death sentence for outsiders.
Through the haze of her pain, she heard the sound of scuffling and yelps as the rogues were driven off. Then, silence.
A shadow loomed over her, and a deep, calm voice spoke. "You're safe now."
Lyra blinked up at the man standing before her, his sharp features illuminated by the moonlight. His dark eyes studied her with an intensity that made her stomach churn. She tried to speak, but her lips refused to form words.
"You're injured," he said, crouching down beside her. His voice softened. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you."
"No…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I can't stay here."
"You don't have a choice," he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Lyra tried to push him away, but her strength was gone. As the darkness closed in around her, she felt strong arms lift her from the ground.
The last thing she heard was his voice, calm and steady. "You'll be fine. Just hold on."