Blood and Roots

Rose's POV

The first thing I felt was cold.

Not winter cold. A deeper chill that had settled into my bones while I lay unconscious at the base of the willow. The Blood Moon had set. What was left was a grey sky that promised nothing but more pain.

I tried to move. My body screamed.

My left shoulder had popped out of its socket. My ribs ached with every breath, and when I lifted my head the world spun. My wedding dress hung in tatters, streaked with mud and blood. The crown of jasmine was gone, lost somewhere in the nightmare I'd fled.

I sat up using the willow's roots for support. The motion sent pain through my chest, but I bit down on the scream. No sound. Not until I knew if they were still hunting me.

The forest was silent. Too silent.

Then it all came back. Papa falling. His eyes finding mine, telling me to run without words. Kael's throat opening under Fiona's knife. My father's warriors cut down protecting an Alpha's daughter too blind to see the trap closing around her.

I pressed my hand over my mouth to hold back the sob. A memory surfaced — Papa teaching me to ride when I was six, his hands steady on the reins while I shrieked with delight. My brave little Rose, he used to say.

Don't think about it. If you start, you won't stop. And then you'll die here, and he died for nothing.

I hauled myself up, gripping the trunk until my fingers ached. The forest stretched out in every direction, indifferent to me. Somewhere beyond it lay the River Lands. Aiden. My only living relative — a cousin I hadn't seen since we were children, before his father's pack claimed territory to the north.

The journey would take days on healthy legs. On mine, with a ruined shoulder and who knew what else torn up inside —

I took a step. Then another. Each one hurt, but I kept moving. The sun rose through the canopy and I followed its light east, toward the sound of running water.

I walked until my legs gave out.

The second time I woke, voices surrounded me.

"Her pulse is thready. She's lost too much blood."

"Can we save her?"

"We can try. Help me roll her."

I tried to open my eyes. A hand pressed against my forehead, cool and calloused. I flinched, some leftover instinct telling me to fight.

"Easy." A man's voice, calm. "You're safe. We're not going to hurt you."

Safe. The word meant nothing anymore. I forced my eyes open against the light.

Three figures knelt around me. The one who'd spoken was older, salt-and-pepper hair, deep lines around his eyes. No pack markings on his clothes. His hands were stained with old blood and herbs.

Traveling healers. Wolves who wandered the territories helping whoever needed it, pack or rogue.

"Edwin," he said. "These are Mara and Finn. We found you by the river. Can you tell us what happened?"

My throat only produced a rasp. Mara, stocky, iron-gray braids, pressed a waterskin to my lips. I drank until she pulled it back.

"Slowly," she said. "Your body's been through enough."

"Silver Creek," I managed. "Attacked. My father — my pack—"

Edwin's face changed. "The Blood Moon wedding. Eastern Pack and Silver Creek. We heard rumors in the villages. They said the bride was killed."

I shook my head, and it cost me. "I'm the bride."

The three of them looked at each other. Finn, the youngest, maybe seventeen, shifted on his feet.

"The rumors say Silver Creek's hunting survivors. There's a bounty."

"Enough." Edwin's voice cut through it. "She's hurt, and she's a victim. Our oath doesn't care about pack politics."

He turned back to me, hands moving to my shoulder. "This is going to hurt. Mara, hold her."

I braced. There wasn't another option.

The shoulder went back into place with a white flash of pain that stole my breath. I screamed into Finn's hand, clamped over my mouth before the sound could carry.

Edwin packed the joint with a poultice that smelled of bitter herbs and wrapped it tight.

"Broken ribs. Three, maybe." His fingers pressed my side. "You should be dead."

I should be. My father's warriors bought me time. Kael bought me time. And I'd collapsed at the base of a tree and waited to be found.

"You need to rest," Mara said. "We move at nightfall. There's caves near the eastern ridge—"

She stopped. Her head snapped toward the treeline. Finn was already on his feet, hand on his knife. Edwin went still, eyes scanning the shadows.

I heard it. Wolves baying on a hunt. Paws hitting the ground in rhythm.

Ethan's patrol. Fiona's hunters. They'd found my trail.

"No." I tried to scramble up. "You have to go. They'll kill you—"

Edwin's hand closed on my arm. "We're not leaving you."

The first wolf broke through the trees — massive, silver-marked, eyes full of murder. Finn met him head-on, knife flashing. They went down together in a tangle of claws.

Mara hauled me to my feet despite my crying out. "Run, girl. Now."

I couldn't run. My body had nothing left. Two more wolves came through the brush, muzzles wet, eyes locked on me.

Edwin stepped in front of me, hands raised. "She's under my protection. We've no quarrel with your pack. We're healers—"

The wolf lunged. Edwin dodged too slow. Fangs found his arm and he staggered back with a shout.

Finn wasn't moving. His chest was a ruin of claw marks.

"No." The word tore out of me. "No, please—"

Mara shoved me back from the fight, her face wrecked. "Go! Edwin and I will hold them. Survive this!"

I stumbled, caught my feet on a root, my vision swimming. The last thing I saw before the trees closed around me was Mara going down, three wolves on her while Edwin fought to reach her.

I ran until I couldn't hear it anymore. I ran until the sun set and rose again, my body moving on instinct, refusing to let the guilt catch up.

Three more lives. Three more wolves dead because they tried to help a hunted bride.

I collapsed at the edge of a stream, cold water lapping at my fingers. My reflection looked back at me — a stranger's face, hollow, streaked with blood and dried tears.

Then footsteps behind me.

"Wait." Edwin's voice, ragged. "Rose. Wait."

I turned, not daring to believe it. He came through the trees, his left arm a bloody mess, but alive. His face was ash grey, his eyes carrying a grief that matched mine.

"Edwin." My voice broke. "Mara. Finn."

He shook his head. He didn't need words.

Gone. Both of them. Because of me.

He sank down beside me, his good hand on my shoulder. "I made a promise," he said, voice shaking. "To Mara. Before she — before. I promised I'd get you to the River Lands. I promised you'd survive this."

I stared at him. Why keep going? Why risk more for a stranger?

I saw the answer in his eyes. He'd lost everything. Mara was his mate. Finn was like a son to him. If he stopped now, their deaths meant nothing.

"Get me to the River Lands," I whispered. "And I swear on my father's grave, I'll make them pay."

Edwin nodded slowly. Something like purpose flickered through the grief in his eyes. "Then we have a long walk ahead of us."

The stream kept moving beside us, indifferent to the blood soaked into the ground. Somewhere north, Aiden waited. The River Lands offered sanctuary.

But sanctuary was never going to be enough.