chapter 4: Capture the child

Sage’s POV

7 years later.

The rain fell in sheets, turning the enchanted forest into a blur of silver and grey. My massive silver wolf form moved through the trees with practiced ease, my daughter perched securely on my back, her small hands gripping my fur. Seven years. It had been seven years since I'd escaped that territory, since I'd fled to the human lands with nothing but desperation and a growing child inside me that i found out after i left the pack.

Everything had changed the moment my daughter was born.

The pain of labor had shattered something inside me, unlocked something that had always been dormant. My abilities—the ones that should have been nonexistent in an omega—had exploded into existence with a force that terrified the midwife attending me. Shadow weaving, had evolved into something far more powerful. I could manipulate darkness itself now, bend light and shadow to my will in ways that defied explanation. I could move faster than should have been possible. My senses were heightened beyond anything an ordinary wolf could achieve.

But my daughter—my beautiful, brilliant daughter—was something else entirely.

"Mom, they're getting closer," Milo said from her position on my back, her voice calm despite the danger surrounding us. She was seven years old and already more aware than most adults. "Three vehicles, half a mile behind us. They have tranquilizers loaded with sedatives."

I pushed harder through the forest, my powerful legs carrying us faster through the rain-soaked terrain. The virus that had broken out six months ago had swept through both human and werewolf territories with devastating speed. And somehow, impossibly, my daughter's blood held the cure. Her unique genetics—inherited from three different powerful wolves—had created something the world had never seen before.

Which meant the world wanted her. Scientists, governments, pack leaders, all of them hunting us, all of them willing to kill to possess her.

"There," Milo said, pointing with one small hand. "Trap at two o'clock. Three-wire snare system."

I adjusted my trajectory without breaking stride, leaping over the barely-visible wires with inches to spare. My daughter's abilities were manifesting in ways that terrified and amazed me in equal measure. She could see temporal echoes—remnants of the past and glimpses of possible futures. She could sense danger with supernatural precision. She could amplify the abilities of those around her, making ordinary wolves into apex predators. And there were other gifts too, ones we were still discovering.

"More ahead," Milo warned. "Pit trap disguised with branches and leaves. Forty feet."

I veered sharply left, avoiding the carefully concealed pit that would have broken my legs. My daughter clung tighter to my neck, and I could feel her concentrating, her young mind working through the forest ahead like she was reading a map only she could see.

"Blast incoming," she said suddenly, her voice urgent but not panicked. "Three o'clock, twenty feet up."

I didn't have time to process her warning before I felt the air shift. A concussive blast of pure force erupted from the trees, aimed directly at us. But Milo moved faster than any seven-year-old should be capable of moving. Her small hand came up, and the blast split in two, arcing around us in perfect arcs before dissipating harmlessly into the canopy.

"Got it," she said, satisfaction in her young voice. "They didn't expect me to counter it."

The forest opened up suddenly, and my heart seized.

A massive chasm stretched before us, a gap at least forty feet wide with no way across. On the other side, the forest continued—our escape route, our safety, our freedom. Behind us, I could hear the vehicles getting closer, could hear the sounds of pursuit.

"Mom, we won't make it," Milo said, reality evident in her voice. "The distance is too far. Even with your speed—"

But I was already accelerating. My massive wolf form, silver fur streaming in the rain, launched itself toward the edge of the chasm. My daughter's arms wrapped around my neck, holding tight as I pushed every ounce of my power into the jump.

For a moment, we hung suspended in the air above the chasm, the rain falling around us like we were suspended in time itself. For a moment, it felt possible.

Then gravity reasserted itself.

My front paws landed on the far edge, gripping dirt and rock. My hind legs scrambled for purchase, my claws digging deep. I was so close. Just a few more inches and we'd be safe, and I could pull myself up and—

A blast hit me directly in the side.

It was  from the forest behind us. 

The force of the blast was devastating. It caught me mid-climb, mid-pull, and sent me flying backward off the edge of the cliff.

I twisted my body in mid-air, my only thought to protect my daughter. I wrapped myself around her, my massive form curling inward to shield her from the impact as we plummeted toward the raging river below.

The water hit us like a physical wall.

It was cold and violent and absolutely unforgiving. The current grabbed us immediately, pulling us under, spinning us in directions that made no sense. I fought to keep my grip on Milo, fought to keep her above water, fought to swim against a current that seemed determined to drag us deeper.

"Mom!" Her voice was muffled, panicked for the first time since this had started.

"I've got you," I tried to say, but water filled my mouth. "I've got you, baby. Just hold on."

But the current was too strong. The rain was too heavy. The roaring of the water drowned out everything else, and I couldn't concentrate, couldn't focus, couldn't think beyond the desperate need to keep my daughter alive.

My arms tightened around her. My body protected hers.

And then everything went black.

***

I woke up slowly, consciousness returning in fragments. My lungs burned. My entire body ached. But I was alive.

And I wasn't in the river.

I was lying on a flat bed—an actual bed, with soft blankets and pillows. The ceiling above me was canvas—a tent, I realized with confusion. How had I gotten here? How had I survived that fall? How had I gotten out of the river?

Panic flooded through me.

Milo.

I shot upright, my body screaming in protest. Where was my daughter? Had they taken her? Had they—

I forced myself to breathe, to think. My weapons were gone. But near the bed, I spotted a knife—simple but functional. I grabbed it, gripping it tightly, and stumbled toward the tent opening.

The forest was still wet from the rain, puddles reflecting the grey light filtering through the clouds. I was still in the enchanted forest, still in the shelter of the ancient trees. How long had I been unconscious?

I pushed through the tent flap, every muscle in my body ready for a fight, ready to—

I stopped dead.

Milo was sitting on a log near a small fire, completely dry and unharmed. And surrounding her were three men.

Three very familiar men.

Kael Ashford. Vex Thorne. And Cass Rivera. 

All three of them looked older. Harder. More powerful. But unmistakably the same men who had destroyed my life seven years ago.

The knife fell from my hand.

This wasn't possible. This was a hallucination. This was my mind playing tricks on me after the trauma of the fall. It couldn't be real. It couldn't be—

Milo turned and saw me standing in the tent opening.

“Aunty!" she cried out, joy flooding her face. "You're awake! They saved us from the river. They—"

But I wasn't listening to her words anymore. All I could see were their faces. All I could feel was the tsunami of emotion crashing through me—rage and pain and betrayal and something that might have been hope if I hadn't learned better.

Seven years. Seven years of running, of surviving, of building a life with my daughter. Seven years of thinking I'd escaped them.

And now they were here.

The knife was in my hand again, and I was moving before my conscious mind even registered the decision. I lunged toward them, every ounce of my power focused on one goal: kill them for what they'd done to me.

For what they'd done to us.