7

I ran until the pack house was far behind me, my wolf howling loud in my head, urging me on. My legs burned, and my body ached from the long day’s work, but I didn’t stop. Part of me wished running could end it all—wished I could just keep going until I dropped and didn’t have to feel this pain anymore. But I kept pushing forward, feet pounding against the earth, not caring where I was headed. By the time I finally slowed down, the night had deepened, probably close to midnight. I found a sturdy tree and climbed up, settling myself across a wide branch, hoping I wouldn’t roll off in my sleep. Exhaustion hit me hard, pulling me under, and I didn’t even try to stop the tears streaming down my face as I drifted off.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of birds chirping and small animals scurrying through the underbrush. I had nothing with me—no food, no supplies—just me and my wolf. I’d have to rely on her to get through this. I slid down from the tree, landing softly on the ground, and took a deep breath. “Alright, Alexa,” I murmured to my wolf through our mindlink, “let’s do this.” It was our first shift, and I braced myself for the pain everyone always talked about—the cracking bones, the tearing muscles. But it never came. Instead, in one smooth motion, my body changed. Where my legs had been, her paws stood, silver fur gleaming in the morning light. I barely had time to process it before Alexa took off, her instincts kicking in.

“We need food,” I said to her, my voice echoing in our shared mind. She didn’t need telling twice. We moved through the forest, her senses sharp, picking up every sound and scent. It didn’t take long to track down a couple of rabbits. Alexa pounced, swift and precise, and we tore into them, the raw taste grounding us in the moment. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep us going. After we ate, I felt Alexa’s excitement bubbling up. “Go on,” I told her, smiling inside. “Run. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

She didn’t hesitate. We raced through the woods, her paws barely touching the ground, the wind rushing past us. For the first time in a long time, I let myself relax, letting her take control while I just… existed. It was freeing, in a way, to let her carry us wherever she wanted. I didn’t have to think about the pack, the rejection, or the mess I’d left behind. For a little while, it was just us and the forest.

When Alexa finally slowed down, I noticed a lake ahead, its water so clear it looked like glass. “Wow, look at that,” I said through the mindlink, my voice soft with awe. Alexa padded closer, her paws silent on the soft earth, until we reached the edge of the lake. I caught her reflection in the water, and my breath hitched. She was a silver wolf, her fur shimmering like moonlight, with patches of white woven through it. “You’re beautiful,” I whispered, stunned. Silver and white wolves were rare—almost unheard of. I’d never seen one in person, and now here I was, staring at my own wolf. “We’re rare, Alexa. Did you know that?”

She let out a low, pleased rumble, her pride echoing through our bond. I sat back in my mind, letting her stand there, taking in the sight of herself. A thought started forming, slow and tentative. “This place,” I said, my voice quiet but firm. “It could be ours, you know? Somewhere we can come when everything gets too heavy. A sanctuary.” Alexa’s agreement hummed through me, warm and steady, and for a split second, I forgot the sting of the rejection, the weight of being cast out. It was just me, my wolf, and this perfect, quiet moment.

“Hey, Alexa,” I said, a small smile tugging at my thoughts. “Think we could stay out here forever? Just you and me, hunting, running, no one to tell us what to do?” She gave a playful yip in response, her tail swishing. “Yeah, I know,” I laughed softly. “Probably not realistic. But it’s nice to dream, right?”

Her ears twitched, and I felt her shift beneath me, her body alert. “What’s up?” I asked, scanning the trees through her eyes. The forest was still, too still, and a prickle of unease ran through me. “Just the wind, probably,” I said, trying to shake it off. I forced a laugh, but it felt hollow. “Come on, don’t get all jumpy on me now.”

Then I heard it—a rustle, sharp and deliberate, like dry leaves crunching underfoot. Alexa’s head snapped around, her eyes narrowing as she searched for the source. “Easy, girl,” I whispered, but my heart was starting to race. “It’s nothing. Just a squirrel or something, right?”

But before I could convince myself, something slammed into us, hard and fast. The force sent us flying, the world tilting as we hit the ground with a thud. I gasped, struggling to make sense of what was happening, but whatever it was pinned us down before we could react, holding us there with a strength we couldn’t shake.

It was a large grey wolf pinning me down, its weight heavy and unyielding. I thrashed beneath it, summoning all my strength to shove it off. Alexa snarled in my head, her instincts fueling my fight. The wolf didn’t budge easily, but I managed to fling it back, only for it to come at me again. We clashed, teeth snapping, claws swiping, bodies slamming into each other in a blur of fur and fury. Then, in an instant, the wolf shifted. Where the beast had been stood a tall, lean woman with blonde hair, her eyes locked on me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

“Shift,” she commanded, her voice firm but not cruel.

I stood my ground, defiance rising in my chest. Alexa growled in agreement, and I glared at the woman. “I’m not here to harm you,” she said, her tone softening just a touch. “Now shift, rogue.”

The word hit me like a slap. “I’m not a rogue,” I snapped, letting the shift take me back to my human form. My voice trembled with anger as I stood there, fists clenched. “I’m not.”