#Chapter 2: Escape

Isla's POV

I froze, unable to think or move, not even to breathe.

I could only stare at the man I had once loved, his eyes wild with fury, his fingers red with my father's blood. His focus lifted from my father's corpse at his feet to focus on my mother instead.

Mom rushed to me, placed both hands on my shoulders, and shoved me towards the back door.

"Run!" she said. Her sharp, terrified voice snapped me out of my trance. "Isla, you have to run!"

I did, rushing to the back door. I threw it open, then glanced back – just in time to see my mother collapse in a pool of her own blood.

Adrian, splattered in red, still in his human form yet more beast than I had ever seen him, growled as my mother struggled, pulling herself on her hands and knees, crawling through her own blood.

Adrian drew back his claws once more.

I turned and I ran, not wanting to see my mother's end.

Tears filled my eyes, blurring my vision, but I didn't need to see. The safehouse was surrounded by a forest. If I could get into the trees and find a way to cover my scent, I would be safe.

Nearby, I heard the sounds of a stream, or perhaps a small river. That was what I needed, so I raced towards it. The water would hide my scent and my trail.

When I broke the treeline, I dared to look back again. My heart was breaking, and I wanted this to all be some kind of nightmare. How could the man I loved – the father of my unborn baby – kill my parents?

"Find Isla!" Adrian roared, appearing at the back of the house. Some of his enforcers rounded the house, heading toward the forest.

"Should we kill her, Alpha?" asked one of the enforcers.

He paused a moment, and in that moment my heart raced.

Too soon, though, he found his voice again and barked at his underlings, "Bring her back to me alive, and I will cast judgement on her."

I had already seen his form of judgement, delivered to both of my parents.

I would not stay to see the same thing happen to me. Turning, I ran to the water, drudged my way through it, to the waist-high middle, and then allowed it to carry me downstream.

While the river carried me, I thought desperately about where I could hide. A Lycan attack would be huge news in the werewolf community. Adrian would undoubtedly send messengers to the other packs, searching me out.

Werewolf packs weren't always friendly with one another, but in a fight against Lycans, they were united.

I wasn't a Lycan, but if my parents truly were, then I was guilty by association. I needed a place to hide, somewhere away from any and all werewolves.

That left only the human realm.

I trudged out of the water, then walked for a while. Eventually, I found a roadside motel, the neon sign reading Vacancy lit up and buzzing. The rooms were cheap enough for me to pay for with what I had on me.

Then, finally, behind a closed door, in my time motel room, I allowed the reality of what I had seen and experienced to crash over me.

Then I didn't leave my room for a full twenty-four hours.

I couldn't really move. I just laid on the bed.

A key rattled in the lock on my door, but I couldn't care anymore. Maybe it was Adrian here to finish me off.

If it was, I wouldn't fight.

Then the door opened, and the woman who had checked me in, Martha, opened the door. She was an older woman, with graying hear, a pear shape, and kind eyes.

"Oh my! Honey, are you okay?" she asked, seeing me on the bed.

I couldn't move or reply, aside from blinking blearily at her.

She rushed over to me. "You look like you're on the brink." She placed her wrist to my forehead. "Holy Hannah! You are burning. Hold on, honey. I've got medicine in the office. No one dies in my motel." As she stood, she shook her head. "It'd be bad for business."

Martha left for a few minutes, then came back with some pills and a bottle of water. She put two pills in her hand and held them out to me.

I weakly pushed her hand away.

"This is no time to be stubborn, honey," Martha said. "You could be on death's door."

She didn't understand.

"I might be… pregnant…" I said, my voice rough from disuse and my illness.

Martha's worry seemed to compound, her brow furrowing. "Then what are you doing here? Where's your family? Where's the baby's father?"

I didn't have an answer, so I stayed quiet.

"That's the way of it, huh? Poor girl facing the world," Martha said. "You hang in there, honey. If not for yourself, then for your child. Get up now, I'll help you. We're going to the hospital."

I looked at this strange, human woman, wondering how she could care so much about a stranger like me.

I hadn't interacted with many humans before. Was this the way they all were? So warm-hearted?

She was right though. I had to fight for my child. I had to live, no matter what had happened to me. My child deserved a good life, and I had to live to give it to them.

With great effort, I pushed myself upright.

"That's it," Martha said. "Come on."

With her help, I stood, and together, we hobbled out to the parking lot and her car.

Five Years Later.

"Adrian, please. Adrian, don't!"

I shot upright in bed, suddenly awake, my body coated in a cold sweat. Fear coursed through me, and it was only after several harsh breaths and looking around that I realized I was safe in the bedroom of my trailer.

For years, I'd been suffering the same dreams, of Adrian cutting down my parents with such hatred in his eyes.

Then those eyes looked at me.

I shivered, and looked at the clock on my nightstand. My alarm would go off in a few minutes. I might as well get out of bed now. There was no way I was going back to sleep.

Standing, I pulled on a housecoat, then walked, perhaps with a bit more desperation than I needed to, to the room opposite mine in the hall.

Relief flooded me to see Noah, my child with Adrian, sleeping peacefully in his bed.

For five years, we'd been safely hidden from Adrian and his pack. Maybe it was time to finally let my guard down. Yet, with Noah potentially in danger, lowering my guard felt unrealistic.

The nightmares were reminders. Adrian was still out there. And if he found me…

If he found Noah…

I didn't want to think about it.

I softly closed Noah's door, then went down the hallway to start making breakfast for him.

He must have been lured by the smell of pancakes, because soon, he came to the kitchen, rubbing his blue eyes – so much like Adrian's.

"You making pancakes, Mommy?" Noah asked.

"Yes," I said. "I know they are your favorite."

He walked to my side near the stove and hugged me. "Thank you."

I knelt down to hug him back. "Of course." I would do anything for this boy.

After breakfast, we went back to our usual routine. I drove Noah in my used sedan down to the kindergarten, and then I headed to our small town's Main Street and to the bakery I rain.

I parked in the usual place, the alley behind the bakery, then came around to the front to unlock the door. As soon as I stepped onto the sidewalk, I froze.

A line of people were waiting outside the door.

My heart leaped into my throat.

Could it be Adrian's enforcers, finally having tracked me down?