Escaping the Pack

(Natalie's POV)

Emma nearly swerved off the road when I told her my news.

"Holy moon! You're amazing!" she shrieked, gripping the steering wheel of her Lamborghini. "The New Zealand College of Art? THE New Zealand College of Art? The one that rejects like 98% of applicants?"

I couldn't help smiling at her enthusiasm. "Yes, that one."

"And they accepted YOU?" Her eyes were wide with disbelief.

"Don't sound so surprised," I teased.

Emma shook her head frantically. "No, no! I didn't mean it like that. Your art is incredible. I just meant—how did you even apply? Your uncle monitors everything!"

"I had help," I admitted. "Remember that gallery owner from Moonhaven who visited your pack last year?"

"The one with the weird glasses?" Emma asked.

I nodded. "He submitted my application for me."

"Natalie Silverstone, you sneaky wolf!" Emma grinned. "Does anyone in your pack know?"

"Absolutely not," I said firmly. "And it needs to stay that way."

Emma made a zipping motion across her lips. "Your secret's safe with me. Those Silverstone jerks can all go howl at the moon for all I care."

She accelerated the Lamborghini, sending us flying around a curve. Emma always drove like she was escaping something.

"So, logistics," she said, suddenly all business. "How are you paying for this? Tuition must be astronomical, and I know your pack doesn't give you any money."

I fidgeted with the sleeve of my shirt. "Remember that big painting I was working on in your basement?"

"The one with the wolves running through the forest at night?" Emma asked. "With all those incredible colors?"

"That's the one. I sold it to a gallery in Moonhaven."

Emma nearly crashed the car. "What? When? How much?"

"Three months ago," I replied calmly. "And enough for tuition and living expenses for two years."

Emma's mouth dropped open. "Are you serious? That's incredible! But wait—how did you even get to Moonhaven? It's hours away!"

"I had the gallery owner come to me," I explained. "He came back for a second visit to your pack, remember? When everyone was at the territory council meeting."

"So that's why you insisted on staying behind with me!" Emma exclaimed. "I thought you just wanted to avoid your awful cousin."

"That too," I admitted.

Emma shook her head in amazement. "You've been planning this for months, haven't you?"

"Years," I corrected her. "I've been saving art supplies, researching schools, making connections. I just needed the right moment."

Emma's expression softened. "And your grandmother? Does she know?"

The cheerfulness drained from me instantly. "They've kept her from me for three years now."

"Three years?" Emma's voice rose in outrage. "But she's your only family!"

"Richard made it very clear that my relationship with her depends on my obedience," I said bitterly. "And I haven't been very obedient."

Emma's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "Those monsters. I swear, if my parents weren't so invested in maintaining pack alliances..."

"It's okay," I assured her, though we both knew it wasn't. "This is why I have to leave."

Emma suddenly pulled the car to the side of the road and twisted to face me. Her hazel eyes burned with intensity.

"Listen to me, Natalie. You focus on your studies and your art. If you need anything—anything at all—you call me."

"Emma, you've done enough—"

"No!" she cut me off. "Eat well, live well, if it's not enough, tell me, I'll give you money, I'll support you!"

Her fierce loyalty made my throat tighten. In a world of wolves who saw only what they could take from others, Emma Winters gave without hesitation.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Emma squeezed my hand, then put the car back in gear. "Now let's get you to that airport. Freedom awaits!"

(Florian's POV)

Three months. Three months of searching, and nothing.

I stood on the deck of my private cruise ship as it sailed into international waters from Northern Harbor. The ocean breeze did nothing to cool my frustration.

My bodyguards maintained a respectful distance behind me as I gazed out at the endless water, each wave seeming to mock my failure.

"Alpha! There you are!" Ethan Blake's enthusiastic voice broke through my thoughts as he emerged from the elevator. "The casino is incredible! Five floors of pure luxury."

I turned to acknowledge my enforcer, nodding slightly. Ethan was efficient at his job, if somewhat overeager.

"And have you seen the guest list?" he continued, falling into step beside me. "Representatives from every major territory! This is going to be the networking event of the year."

"That's the point," I replied. The cruise was ostensibly a business venture—a floating neutral ground where pack leaders could negotiate without territorial constraints.

But I had another purpose entirely.

"I can't wait to reach Silvercrest Valley," Ethan grinned, his excitement palpable. "I've heard the city is beautiful this time of year. And those Northern Territory she-wolves..." He gave an appreciative whistle.

My amusement vanished instantly, replaced by cold irritation. "What about them?"

"They're supposed to be the most beautiful in all the territories," Ethan continued, oblivious to my shift in mood. "Elegant, well-bred, traditional."

Each word scraped against my raw nerves. For three months, I'd had my best people searching Silvercrest Valley for one particular Northern Territory she-wolf. A woman with green-gold eyes and a defiant streak who had disappeared without a trace.

"I mean, our Western wolves are great," Ethan rambled on, "but there's something about those Northern beauties that—"

"Enough," I cut him off, my voice sharper than intended.

Ethan fell silent instantly, confusion and concern flashing across his face. "Did I say something wrong?"

I didn't answer, turning back to stare at the horizon. My mind filled yet again with images of her—the mysterious artist, my supposed mate, who had slipped through my fingers like smoke.

Logan growled restlessly inside me. My wolf had been agitated since that night, sensing the mate bond but unable to fulfill it.

"Sir?" Ethan's voice was hesitant now.

"Prepare the meeting documents," I ordered, forcing my thoughts back to business. "I want to review them before we dock."

As Ethan hurried away, I closed my eyes, trying to banish the memory of green-gold eyes that haunted me day and night.

(Natalie's POV)

"Just try the caviar," William insisted, pushing the small plate toward me. "It's a delicacy."

I smiled politely across the elegantly set dinner table. "I'm fine with what I have, thank you."

William Winters, Emma's older brother, had been trying to impress me all evening. His fiancée Sophia sat quietly beside him, occasionally exchanging sympathetic glances with me.

We were dining in one of the cruise ship's exclusive restaurants, surrounded by wealthy wolves from various territories. This wasn't the freedom I'd imagined when I left Silvercrest Valley three months ago.

"You should join us at the casino after dinner," William said, not for the first time. "The tables are hot tonight."

"I don't gamble," I replied gently. "And I don't have money to lose."

William waved his hand dismissively. "I'd stake you, of course. Consider it a gift."

"My brother thinks throwing money around impresses people," Emma interjected, rolling her eyes. "Ignore him."

William's expression soured. "Not everyone enjoys your idea of fun, Emma. Some prefer more refined activities."

"Like losing at blackjack?" Emma shot back.

I sipped my water, feeling the familiar tension between the siblings. They were as different as night and day—Emma rebellious and free-spirited, William rigid and traditional.

"Natalie understands proper decorum," William said pointedly. "Unlike you, she was raised to be a well-bred she-wolf."

Emma slammed her glass down. "Are you serious right now? Her pack treated her like garbage!"

"Emma!" Sophia finally spoke up, her soft voice cutting through the tension. "Not here."

William's eyes narrowed at his sister. "Where have you even been these past three months? The pack has been asking questions."

"Around," Emma replied vaguely. "Living my life."

"Running wild is not living," William criticized. "You have responsibilities to the pack."

"So do you," Emma countered, "but that doesn't stop you from gambling away family resources."

The siblings glared at each other across the table. I caught Sophia's eye, and she gave me a tiny shrug as if to say, "They're always like this."

"Perhaps we should order dessert?" I suggested, attempting to change the subject.

William's attention snapped back to me, his expression softening. "Excellent idea. The chocolate soufflé here is exceptional."

The remainder of dinner passed in strained conversation. When we finished, William insisted on escorting me back to my cabin.

"I don't want you wandering around the ship alone," he said as we walked down the corridor. "International waters can be dangerous. Pack laws don't hold the same weight here."

"I can take care of myself," I assured him.

"Can you?" William's tone turned cold. "From what I understand, you ran away from your pack without permission. That's not the behavior of someone who makes good decisions."

Emma bristled beside me. "Back off, William."

"I'm simply stating facts," he replied. "And the fact is, she belongs back in Silverstone territory."

My stomach clenched at his words. We reached my cabin door, and I quickly swiped my key card.

"Thank you for dinner," I said formally, eager to escape.

William caught the door before I could close it. "This ship docks in Silvercrest Valley in three days. I intend to contact your Alpha."

"William!" Emma gasped. "You wouldn't!"

"It's my responsibility," he replied sternly. "Pack law is clear on runaways."

I met his gaze steadily. "I'm twenty-two, not a juvenile. I don't need pack permission to travel."

"Without a formal release, you do," William countered. "And I doubt Richard Silverstone issued one."

He stepped back, allowing me to close the door, but his warning hung in the air.

"Sweet dreams, Natalie," he said. "Don't wander around the ship. For your own safety."

The door clicked shut, and I leaned against it, my heart pounding. After three months of freedom, the threat of returning to Silverstone control sent ice through my veins.

Behind the closed door, I heard Emma arguing with her brother, their voices growing fainter as they moved down the corridor.

"You can't send her back there!" Emma's outraged voice echoed.

"Watch me," was William's cold reply.