Trespassing

Nightfall had swallowed the forest as Eira ran. Branches whipped across her face, catching in her silver hair and tearing at the remnants of her clothes. She ducked beneath a low-hanging limb, leaped over a fallen tree, and landed hard on the other side. Pain flared through her legs, but she forced herself onward.

Behind her, men shouted through the trees.

“There! She went that way!” Her heart slammed against her ribs. They were getting closer. Eira pushed harder, weaving between the trees with the instinct of a wolf who knew the forest better than any human ever could. Her lungs burned with every breath. Her muscles trembled from the effort, and the deep cuts across her shoulder and ribs stung beneath the cold air.

One of the wounds on her side had reopened. She could feel the warm trickle of blood beneath her shirt. She ignored it. Stopping meant being caught. Being caught meant Cassian. The thought sent a fresh surge of terror through her, sharp enough to drown out the ache in her body. She would not go back.

She would rather die in these woods than return to Silvermoon Pack and be handed over to a man who believed her future belonged to him. Another shout rose behind her, much closer this time.

“Spread out! Do not let her reach the border!” The border. Eira had no idea how close she was. She had spent so long fleeing through unfamiliar woodland that the landscape had blurred into dark trunks, tangled undergrowth, and uneven ground. She had followed the terrain wherever it offered a chance to put distance between herself and the hunting party. Now the men were spreading out.

They had the numbers and the experience. Cassian had not sent a handful of amateur trackers to retrieve his runaway bride. No. He had sent an advanced hunting party, men who knew exactly what they were doing, and they were determined to drag her back to their alpha and get a pad on their shoulders.

Eira gritted her teeth and changed direction, dipping in between two enormous trees and down a slope. Loose earth crumbled beneath her boots. She caught a branch to steady herself, barely slowing as she reached the bottom.

A howl split through the darkness behind her. Her wolf answered inside her with a weak, furious growl she felt more than heard. Run. She did not need to be told twice.

Eira pushed herself forward. Her silver hair had come loose from its braid, streaming behind her in tangled strands. Blood darkened the fabric over her shoulder. Her hands were scratched and raw from pushing through thorn bushes and one physical altercation she nearly escaped, and every breath scraped her throat. She could still run. She could still think. That would have to be enough.

A shadow moved between the trees to her left, but Eira twisted away just as a man lunged. His hand caught the edge of her torn sleeve, ripping the fabric before she broke herself free and ran.

“There she is!” Footsteps closed in behind her. A second man appeared ahead, cutting across her path. Eira swerved sharply to the right, nearly colliding with a tree. She swung around, then dropped down a narrow passage between dense bushes.

A hand grazed her hair. She ducked. Fingers closed on empty air. The man stumbled past her, and Eira kept moving, her pulse hammering so violently that she could barely hear anything else. They were too close. The forest began to thin ahead. Eira caught a glimpse of open ground between the trees and aimed for it, even as the voices behind her grew louder.

“He wants her alive!” Her stomach twisted. Cassian Valmont had no intention of killing her. Dead, she would be useless to him. He wanted her alive, dressed in whatever he chose, standing beside him while their forced bond turned her into another piece of his political collection. He wanted her bloodline. Her inheritance. Her obedience.

He would never have either. Eira burst through the final line of trees and stumbled onto a narrow stretch of rocky ground. The land dipped ahead, disappearing into darkness. She could hear water somewhere below, though she could not see it. Behind her, the hunting party emerged from the forest. For one terrible second, she saw them clearly. Five men spread out, with more movement among the trees behind them. Their faces were set with grim determination. Eira turned and ran along the ridge.

“You cannot escape us!” Eira swallowed a ragged breath and kept going. The ground grew rougher beneath her feet. She jumped across a fallen tree and landed hard, and caught herself before she could fall. The pain in her legs threatened to buckle them, but she forced her body forward.

Then the sounds behind her changed. The shouting faded. The pounding footsteps grew distant.

Eira risked a glance over her shoulder. The men were no longer visible. She slowed just enough to listen. Nothing. No shouts. No pounding boots drawing closer. Only the wind moving through the trees. She continued forward, wary at first, waiting for the inevitable sound of pursuit. It did not. A shaky breath escaped her. Perhaps they had lost her trail. The forest was unfamiliar, but the men could not see any better than she could. Maybe they had spread out too far. Maybe she had managed to put enough distance between them to escape.

For the first time, she felt a glimpse of hope. Then Eira walked into a moonlit clearing. She stopped. Something about the place made her hesitate. The trees remained farther apart here, their branches reaching over a stretch of dark earth scattered with pale stones. Beyond the clearing, the forest rose again toward a line of jagged hills. The moon rested low between the clouds, casting a cold sheen over everything it touched. There were no hunting shouts. No footsteps.

No signs of Cassian’s men. Eira looked back toward the trees, searching for movement. Nothing. She turned forward again and stepped into the clearing. A voice cut through the silence.

“Do not move.” Eira froze. Five figures stepped out from the darkness ahead. They had been concealed among the trees, so still that she had mistaken them for shadows. Now they moved with quiet precision, spreading into a line that blocked her path. Each wore dark clothing marked with a crimson emblem: a blood-red moon crossed by a black line. Bloodmoon.

The reality struck her like lightning. She had crossed into Bloodmoon territory—the Black Alpha’s land.

Eira felt the last hope leave her. One of the patrolmen moved to her left. Another took position behind her. The remaining three held the path ahead, cold eyes locked onto her like she was prey.

She assessed their positions, their reach, the weapons at their sides. They were large, broad-shouldered men, all of them trained. Even if she had been well rested and uninjured, fighting them would have been foolish. In her current condition, it would be suicide.

She did not run. The patrolman in the center stepped forward. His gaze moved over her bloodied shoulder, the torn fabric clinging to her side. Then his eyes settled on her face.

Recognition hardened his expression. “Eira Silvermoon.” Her stomach tightened. They knew who she was. Rumors traveled between packs, and Cassian had likely made certain that every Alpha within reach knew his intended mate had fled. Eira slowly raised her empty hands, keeping them where the warriors could see them.

“I am sorry,” she said. Her voice came out rough and strained. She swallowed and tried again.

“I did not know I had crossed into Bloodmoon territory. I swear to you, I did not mean to trespass.” The man did not lower his guard. “You expect us to believe that?”

“I understand why you would doubt me.” Eira fought to keep her breathing steady.

“But I am telling you the truth. I have been running from a hunting party sent by Cassian Valmont. I did not know where I was. I was trying to get away from them.” Her legs shook under her. She locked her knees before the patrol could mistake the movement for an attempt to lunge.

“I will leave your territory,” she continued. “I will turn around and go wherever you tell me to go. I only ask that you allow me to do so.” Another man moved closer, his eyes narrowing as he examined the blood on her clothes. “You are asking us to let a wanted Silvermoon heir walk away after trespassing on our land?”

“I am asking you to understand that I did not come here to cause trouble.” Eira’s throat tightened. “I have no intention of challenging your Alpha or your pack. I only want to escape the men hunting me.”

“And why should that concern us?” The question landed harder than she expected. Eira looked at him, struggling to find an answer that might persuade them. She knew nothing about these men beyond the insignia they wore and the territory they guarded. She knew what people said about the Black Alpha, but rumors were not promises, and she had no reason to believe his men would show mercy to someone who had crossed their border uninvited.

“Because I am not your enemy,” she said quietly. “I have done nothing against Bloodmoon.” The central man studied her in silence. Eira could feel their attention on every movement, every shallow breath. She had fought men who wanted to drag her back to Cassian. She had crossed an unknown border because she had been too desperate to care what lay beyond it.

She stood before five Bloodmoon patrolmen, and her instinct warned her that she had traded one danger for another. “I know I should not have crossed your border,” she said. “I am sorry. Please. I do not want any trouble.” The patrolman’s expression remained unreadable.

“Your apology does not change where you are standing.” Eira swallowed. “I know.”

“Nor does it change who you are.” Her fingers curled despite her efforts to keep them open. “No,” she whispered. “It does not.” He exchanged a glance with the man beside him. “Take her.”

Eira gasped, “Please,” she said, unable to stop the word from escaping. “I am not asking you to protect me. I only need somewhere to go where Cassian cannot reach me. I will leave as soon as I am able.” The man seized her arm. She flinched at the sudden grip, but she did not fight him. Another man stepped behind her, closing off the last possible route of escape.

“Walk,” the first man ordered. Eira looked toward the trees. Somewhere beyond them, Cassian’s hunting party might still be searching. She could not hear them now, and she had no way of knowing whether they had followed her across the border. But she could not outrun the five warriors surrounding her. She knew that. Any attempt to escape would only give them a reason to treat her as a threat.

So she lowered her gaze and forced herself to move. They led her across the clearing toward a narrow path concealed between two rocky outcrops. The entrance was almost invisible beneath the overhanging branches. Beyond it, uneven stone steps descended into the earth.

Eira stopped at the top. Cold air hit her nostrils, carrying the smell of damp stone and something stale that made her stomach turn. “Down,” the patrolman behind her ordered. She looked into the darkness. “Where are you taking me?”

“To a place where you cannot wander into more of our territory.” The answer gave her no comfort.

Eira placed one foot on the first step. Her legs protested, but she kept moving, one hand brushing the rough stone wall for balance. The patrolmen followed close behind, their boots echoing through the narrow passage. The steps wound deeper underground. The last traces of moonlight disappeared above them, swallowed by the rock.

They reached a heavy iron door. One of the patrolmen unlocked it. The door opened, revealing a narrow corridor lined with stone cells. Eira’s chest tightened.

She had escaped Silvermoon. She had escaped Cassian’s hunters. She had crossed an unfamiliar border believing that any direction was better than the one that led back to him.

And now she was being taken underground by the very pack she had prayed would never notice her. The man pushed her forward. Eira stumbled through the doorway and caught herself against the wall. Before she could turn around, the iron door slammed shut behind her.

The sound reverberated through the underground passage. Then came the lock—one heavy click.

Eira stood in the darkness, listening to the men's footsteps retreat. She had no idea how long they intended to keep her here. She only knew that she was no longer running. And for the first time since she had fled her home, she had no idea what would happen next.