CHAPTER 11: Awakening Beneath the Ancient Bough

Edward taught me something no one ever had before how to depend on myself. I was born a werewolf, marked with the moon’s own blood, yet the shift had never come. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I ached for it, the wolf inside me stayed silent, locked away behind walls I could never break through. My former pack had called me broken, useless, a stain on their bloodline. My ex-mate had laughed and said I was less than a proper female weak, unworthy, good only for chores until he found someone better. And he had found her, hadn’t he? Someone who shifted easily, who bore the alpha’s mark with pride, who could give him the strength and status he craved.

But Edward… Edward never once looked at me like I was lacking. He looked at me like I was whole already—like the wolf was still there, waiting for the right moment, the right strength, the right me to wake it up.

“There is no use wishing for what you cannot control yet,” he had told me on our first morning of training, his voice steady and sure as he stood beside me on the vast grounds behind his mansion. “What you can control is your body, your speed, your reflexes. Start there. Build your foundation brick by brick. When the time comes, everything else will follow.”

And so I did. There was no time to sit idle, no time to cry over those bastards who had thrown me away like trash. Every tear I shed for them was a second I could have spent making myself someone they would one day fear.

The training grounds were like nothing I had ever seen stretching for acres across manicured grass, ringed by tall hedges and ancient oaks. Every kind of equipment I could imagine was there: hurdles of every height, balance beams, stone weights stacked in neat rows, dummies wrapped in tough hide, tracks laid with packed earth, sand, and even smooth river stones to train my footing on any terrain. It was all perfectly maintained, gleaming in the sunlight, a testament to how seriously Edward took protection and strength.

My first lesson was simple: run. Run until my lungs burned, until my legs shook so hard I could barely stand, until sweat stung my eyes and every breath felt like swallowing fire. I ran the length of the track again and again, pushing myself faster, harder, further than I ever thought possible. I did not stop when my muscles screamed. I did not stop when my sides ached. I ran until the memory of my ex-mate’s sneer faded into the rhythm of my own breathing, until the sting of every bruise he left turned into fuel driving me forward.

Faster, I told myself. Faster than they can chase me. Faster than they can hurt me. Faster than I ever ran before.

By the time the sun climbed high overhead, my legs felt like lead, my shirt soaked through with sweat, my hands scraped raw from catching myself when I stumbled. But I did not quit. I was just about to start another lap when a soft voice called out to me.

“Miss Lily? We have your breakfast and snacks ready. We have laid them out for you in the garden shed.”

I slowed to a halt, chest heaving, and turned to see one of the household staff standing a respectful distance away. She looked to be in her late thirties or early forties, with kind eyes and gentle hands, dressed in the same crisp uniform as the others. She did not look at me with pity, or curiosity, or judgment only with quiet care, the kind I had almost forgotten existed.

“Thank you,” I said, wiping sweat from my brow with the back of my arm. “I’ll be there in just a moment. I just need to wash my hands first.”

I walked over to the stone faucet set into the wall nearby, twisting the handle until cool clear water spouted out. I splashed it over my face and hands, watching the dirt and grime run away down the drain. As I dried off on a clean cloth hanging beside it, my gaze drifted toward the shed where the servants were setting out trays of food. My mind turned back to the words I had heard yesterday the epidemic that was spreading across the lands, turning vampire, werewolf, fae, and every other kind into mindless, violent monsters.

It was terrifying to think about. A sickness that could strip away reason, loyalty, and self, leaving only hunger and rage. No one knew where it came from, or how it spread, or how to stop it. Every report said it was moving faster than anyone could keep up with, striking without warning, tearing families and packs and covens apart from the inside out. And here I was still weak, still unable to shift, still learning how to throw a proper punch. If it reached here… if it came for Edward… for me…

I shook my head sharply. No. I will not be helpless anymore. I will run more, train harder, learn everything Edward teaches me until I am strong enough to stand beside him instead of behind him. I will not let anyone use my weakness against me ever again.

I walked toward the garden shed, and my breath caught for a moment. It was not just a plain wooden outbuilding like I expected. It was built of pale stone with a sloped roof of cedar, its walls draped in climbing vines heavy with bright red and yellow tulips, their petals glowing like flames in the sun.

The air smelled sweet and fresh, mixed with the scent of warm bread and honey and roasted meat. It was the first time in my whole life I had ever felt safe just standing still like I could rest without watching my back, without waiting for someone to shout or strike or betray me.

I stepped closer, my stomach growling loud enough for me to hear, and that was when the peace shattered.

A scream tore through the air sharp, terrified, coming from the front of the mansion. Then another, and another, rising in a wave of panic. I heard low, guttural growls, snarls that did not sound like any beast I knew, and then the sickening wet sound of tearing flesh and blood splattering.

My blood turned to ice. It can’t be. Not here. Not already.

I stood frozen for a heartbeat, my mind racing. Had the sickness found its way past the guards, past the protections Edward had spoken of? Had it reached the very heart of his home?

The servants who had been setting out my food gasped and looked toward the noise, their faces draining of color. Without a word, they turned and ran for the main house, slamming the heavy oak door shut behind them and bolting it tight. In the space of a few seconds, I was completely alone in the garden.

I pressed myself back against the wall of the shed, my heart hammering so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest. What do I do? If I run inside, I might draw them there. If I stay here, I am trapped. I am still so weak. I cannot fight. I cannot shift. I cannot even defend myself properly yet.

The sound of dragging footsteps and wet, ragged breathing drew closer. I peeked around the corner of the shed and my stomach twisted so tight I thought I would be sick.

Walking toward me was one of the kitchen maids a woman I had seen only yesterday, laughing softly as she arranged flowers in the hall. Now her dress was torn and stained dark red, her skin pale and streaked with black veins that snaked up her neck and across her face. Her eyes were completely black no white, no iris, nothing but endless void. She drooled thick, dark fluid from her open mouth, stumbling like she was drunk, her limbs jerking in unnatural ways.

She stopped and tilted her head, and I saw her hands begin to change. Fingers fused together, skin turning black and glossy, then melting away like hot wax, leaving nothing behind but sharp, jagged bone that dripped with acrid smoke. Her whole body began to seep pale green mist, curling around her like a shroud. And then she looked straight at me, and a twisted, terrible smirk stretched across her face.

She did not walk she crawled, dragging her melting limbs across the grass, closing the distance between us faster than I could believe. Panic surged through me, hot and sharp, and I turned and ran for the nearest oak tree, scrambling up its rough bark until I clung to a thick branch high above the ground, my fingers digging deep into the wood.

I pressed my back against the trunk, eyes squeezed shut, shaking so hard the branch swayed beneath me. Edward… where are you? Please…

The creature stopped directly below me, head tilted all the way back, those empty black eyes locking onto mine. It let out a shriek that made my teeth ache, and began to pull itself up the trunk, its melting hands sticking to the bark then tearing away with a sickening hiss.

I was trapped. There was nowhere to go but down, and down meant certain death. I closed my eyes tight, bracing myself for the end, and that was when something strange happened.

My heart began to beat so fast it felt like it was pounding against my ribs from the inside out. My breath caught in my throat, and a surge of heat shot through me starting deep in my chest, spreading down my arms and legs, filling every inch of me with a raw, wild power I had never felt before. It was like something locked inside me had finally broken free, roaring to be let out.

I do not have to wait for him to save me, a voice whispered in my mind strong, fierce, unyielding. I can save myself.

I bent my knees, gripped the branch until my knuckles turned white, and leaped.

I hit the ground rolling, coming up in a crouch, and screamed back at the thing climbing toward me. “You will not take me! I am done being prey!”

In the distance, more snarls answered. I looked up and saw three more figures shambling toward me across the lawn all changed, all twisted, all dripping with the same black corruption. They moved faster now, driven by hunger and madness, closing in from every side.

“Edward… I wanted to wait for you,” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes, “but I cannot just stand here and let them tear me apart. I will not go down without a fight. I will become strong enough to face you again strong enough to deserve you, and to stand beside you instead of hiding behind you.”

I took one last look at the mansion, at the golden roof glinting through the trees, and every memory of Edward’s kindness his gentle hands, his soft words, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered in the whole world flashed through my mind. For the first time in years, I did not run away from heartbreak. I ran toward hope.

I turned and sprinted for the dense green forest that bordered the estate, pushing my legs past their limit, leaping over roots and ducking through tangled branches. Thorns tore at my dress and scratched my arms, but I did not slow down. Every scratch was a reminder that I was still alive. Every drop of blood was proof that I was fighting for myself, for my future, for the day I would look my enemies in the eye and make them pay.

I ran until the mansion disappeared behind me, until the sounds of snarling and screaming faded into the rustle of leaves and the beat of my own heart. I ran until my lungs burned and my legs felt like jelly, until I could not take another step without collapsing.

That was when I saw it.

A tree so massive it took my breath away. Its trunk was wide enough that five people linking arms could not wrap all the way around it, its bark rough and silver-gray, carved with faint swirling patterns that seemed to shift when I looked at them directly. Its branches reached so high they seemed to touch the sky, heavy with leaves that shimmered like emerald in the sunlight. Thick roots rose from the earth like great serpentine backs, winding far out across the ground. It felt ancient older than the mansion, older than the dukedom, older than any story I had ever heard.

I sank down at the base of its trunk, leaning back against the cool bark, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. I had heard tales of trees like this ancient guardians, places where the veil between worlds grew thin, sacred to the fae and other magical beings who had lived in these lands long before vampires or werewolves ever set foot here.

“I am sorry to intrude,” I whispered, bowing my head toward the great trunk. “I only need a moment to rest. I mean no harm to you or yours.”

I wiped sweat and dirt from my face, my hands trembling. My white dress was stained with mud and grass and small spots of blood, torn at the hem, clinging to my skin. I was a mess bruised, exhausted, alone but I was still breathing. And that was enough for now.

Then the sound came again low, wet, guttural, close enough that I could hear the squelch of melting flesh. My head snapped up. I scanned the trees, but all I saw was tall grass and wild dandelions swaying in the breeze, nothing to hide behind, nowhere to run that they could not follow.

A shadow lunged from the underbrush.

It was a man one of the gardeners, I thought his face half melted away, oozing thick green slime, his jaw hanging loose and dripping with black saliva. He shrieked and launched himself straight at my throat.

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the end, and the great tree roared.

A brilliant, blinding light exploded from its trunk pure white shot through with streaks of gold and violet. It wrapped around me like a shield, throwing the creature back with a force that made the ground shake. The light swirled and spun, pulling itself into a perfect circle, like a door cut straight through the air.

I did not stop to think. I did not look back. I leaped through that glowing portal without hesitation, the wind of its power tugging at my hair and clothes, the roar of the tree fading into a hum that vibrated in my bones.

The light swallowed me whole. The world tilted and spun, pain lancing through my head as if my very soul was being pulled apart and stitched back together again. And then, there was only darkness.