Chapter 4

Alanza’s POV

“You’re not planning on doing anything foolish at the Lunar Gala, are you, Alanza?”

My whole body jerked. Pascual’s voice was like gravel, unexpected in the silent truck cab. I stared at the side of his head, fighting the urge to flinch harder. Did he know? Could he sense the knot of anxiety twisting in my gut?

“Of course not,” I said, trying to keep my voice flat and even. “Dad would kill me. He made what he expects perfectly clear.”

Pascual grunted. It wasn't a yes or a no, just a sound that hung in the air, heavy and noncommittal. I wanted a wolf’s ability to read minds in that moment. Instead, I had to guess at what my brother thought, which was always just a shade less painful than being invisible.

I turned back to the window, the tall Idaho mountains starting to crowd the horizon. "Besides," I added, letting a little of the true rot inside me seep into the words, "it’s not like anyone will mate a defect."

Silence again. I guess that was the answer he wanted.

The three days leading up to this trip had been a blur of forced normality and secret desperation. I’d mostly stayed in my room, trying to build an escape plan strong enough to cut through the panic. My brain kept slamming the door on the memory of Teo, deciding that ignoring it was a cheaper route than facing the reality of what it meant.

The walls of my room had felt like they were pressing in on me, my heart a trapped bird hammering my ribs. I couldn't focus on anything. School was a joke now, my classes canceled in my mind. I was never coming back.

The plan was simple: run from the Lunar Gala. Everyone would be too busy, too distracted by the mate-hunt energy, to notice one quiet, wolf-less girl vanish. I had packed my bag carefully: a few changes of clothes, some granola bars, and all the cash I had drained from my bank account. I bought a cheap burner phone and put Lucia’s number in it. But I hadn't texted her. I couldn't risk it. Telling her would put her in danger if the pack ever cared enough to hunt me down for information. I was pre-mourning the loss of my best friend, choosing to be a coward for her safety.

That third evening, Dad dropped the bomb at dinner.

"We’re going to the Agate Pack’s territory for the gala."

It was happening.

I kept pushing the dry green beans around my plate. A million angry insects seemed to be crawling under my skin, but I kept my face blank. My family wouldn't notice anyway. They never did.

Dad cleared his throat, a loud, attention-grabbing sound. I looked up. His eyes were actually on me. “Alanza,” he said, his voice flat, like reading a statement off a cue card. “This is a big event for all of us.”

"Yes, Father."

"I would prefer you stay home, but it would look strange for me to leave my unmated, eligible daughter here when Jimena is attending.”

My sister Jimena glowered at her plate. Pascual glanced at me, his expression the usual wall of cold detachment. He loved Jimena easily, but he looked at me like I was a thing under a magnifying glass. To them, I was.

Dad tapped his fingers, a nervous, staccato rhythm on the wood. "I expect nothing less than your best behavior while we are there, Alanza." His eyes dropped to the edge of my collarbone, and I quickly pulled my head down. The bruises from the previous attack were fading, but not fast enough.

“I understand, Father.” My fork scraped against the porcelain.

"Since you don't have a wolf, it isn't like you'll find your mate there. Just try to stay out of trouble and keep your mouth shut." He went back to his own food.

I clenched my fists under the table. His words didn't hurt. They just confirmed the plan was necessary.

The trip was long and silent. Mom, Dad, and Jimena were in the main car ahead of us. I was trapped with Pascual in Jimena’s truck.

Pascual drove with that relaxed arrogance, one elbow hooked over the door frame. The radio stayed off. He looked so much like Dad: cold, distant, perfectly in control.

The hours passed. Rolling plains melted into the heavy, forested mountains that marked the northern border of the state. I tried to think about Lucia, and if she'd be angry or worried when I was gone.

“At least Montero will take you in,” Pascual continued, pulling me back to the cab. “You won’t be his mate, but your kids will be legitimate and treated well.”

I flinched, an honest, near-violent reaction I couldn’t stop. The sound of Montero’s name made my stomach twist. “As long as they have wolves, you mean.”

Pascual flicked a quick, assessing glance my way. “Right.”

No. There was absolutely no way I was staying here. He knew. He knew what Montero did, what he was, and he was sitting here telling me to be thankful that man, who had beaten me without mercy for years, was willing to take me as a glorified breeding machine.

I let out a slow, controlled breath, focusing on the route. Valle de Sombras was huge, maybe four times the size of our home, White Peak. More people, more places to hide, more roads to muddy my tracks. I wanted them to think I ran to the suburbs, not a far-off train station.

My chest felt tighter as we neared the Agate territory. It was a risk, stepping into a world of powerful shifters, but it also felt like my only chance. My heart hammered with fear and a frantic, desperate hope.

I risked a look at Pascual. He was still focused on the road, the stoic mask perfect. I mourned the younger brother I barely remembered, then locked the memory away. I couldn't afford sentiment.

My escape plan solidified in my head: movement, timing, distance.

The truck crossed an unmarked line, and we were officially on Agate land.

“Just try not to embarrass us, Alanza,” Pascual said, his voice dropping to a low, warning note. “Or do you want Dad to be disappointed again?”