#3: We've Been Looking For You

The night is a chaotic blur of feverish, half-formed dreams that twist and turn through my mind like a knot of aggressive vines. Every time I close my eyes, I hear Freya’s voice.

There’s an academy. It’s your last hope.

When the grey morning light finally filters through my window, it brings zero relief, only the heavy, unmistakable reality of a relocation deadline. My suitcase is sitting open on the mattress while my family moves around my bedroom in a solemn, mechanical rhythm to help me fill it.

“I still can’t believe he didn’t even have the decency to come down here himself,” Mom says as she folds a thick wool sweater and presses it into the luggage. “To send a low-level driver to wait at the edge of the property line while his own people are cast out. It’s cruel, Arthur. It’s entirely beneath the dignity of an Alpha.”

“Traditions don’t care about our dignity, Mom,” I say, pulling the zippers shut on my backpack with a harsh, metallic snap. “Thorne is running a business, and I’m a bad investment. He doesn’t owe us anything.”

“You’re not an investment, Leia,” Dad says, stepping into the room and lifting the heavy suitcase off the bed with a single, effortless motion that reminds me exactly what I’m leaving behind. “You are my daughter. And this pack is going to regret the day they decided to measure a person’s worth entirely by the thickness of their hide.”

By late morning, the bag is packed and sitting near the front door. Which means it’s real.

I keep hoping someone will suddenly burst in yelling psych! Huge misunderstanding! Please remain seated while we restore your citizenship.

Shockingly, this doesn't happen.

Outside, snow melts slowly beneath pale sunlight while distant ocean wind rattles through the trees. Dad finally picks up my duffel first. “I’ll carry it down.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m capable of lifting things.”

“I know,” he says and still carries it anyway.

We step outside together. The village feels quieter today, or maybe I just feel disconnected from it now. Some wolves pass farther down the path, glancing toward us awkwardly before quickly looking away.

Mom stops at the bottom step, turning to face me with tears already spilling over her lashes. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small, delicate chain holding a smooth, polished blue stone that feels impossibly cold even in the morning light. She steps close, looping the necklace around my neck and fastening the clasp with trembling fingers.

“You wear this, my child,” she whispers, her hands lingering on my shoulders as she looks into my face. “You are our miracle, do you hear me? You are stronger than any wolf in that square.”

Emotion clogs my throat instantly and I quickly swallow it down.

Nope. Absolutely not. I’m not doing feelings right now.

Mom cups my face gently anyway. “Don’t you ever let the coldness of this world dim what is inside your heart.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I say, forcing a small reassuring smile. “I’ll keep it close.”

Dad steps forward next, wrapping his massive arms around me in a tight, crushing bear hug that smells like home.

He holds me for a long, silent beat before pulling back just enough to look down at me with a deadly serious expression. “You be careful out there, little bird. The world beyond these mountains doesn’t play by our rules, and it certainly doesn’t show mercy to the unaligned. And be careful with that quick mouth of yours, it won’t save your life.”

“It’s saved several conversations.”

Dad huffs a rough laugh before stepping back quickly like he can’t bear doing this any longer.

Freya waits until the very last moment, stepping into my space only after our parents have retreated toward the porch to give us a shred of privacy. She pulls me into a fierce, desperate embrace, her grip so tight it pinches the skin beneath my coat. When she speaks, her lips are brushed directly against the shell of my ear, her voice dropping into an urgent, barely audible hiss.

“Listen to me carefully, Leia,” she says, her eyes darting toward the main road to ensure no one is watching. “Don’t take the driver’s transit route. The moment you get past the lower gate, slip into the trees and follow the coastline south through the old-growth woods. Keep walking until you find a three-pointed stone structure near the cliff edge. The academy will help you if they want you, but you have to find the marker first. And whatever you do, do not ever attempt to return to the Silvercrest Pack.”

Before I can ask her a single one of the fifty questions currently exploding in my brain, she pulls away, giving me a firm, final nudge toward the road.

I take a deep breath, turning my back on the only home I’ve ever known, and begin the long walk down the mountain.

When I reach the fork in the path where the official signpost points toward the human settlements and the lower transit station, I pause. There, I’d have a normal life, safety maybe. I could disappear among them, get a job and pretend I’m normal. Maybe even become one of those mysterious girls working night shifts at diners while secretly emotionally unstable inside.

Honestly, it’s not the worst plan.

Except I have barely any money, no education outside pack territory, no legal documents humans would recognize, and absolutely zero survival skills. I’d die within six business days.

So south it is.

Hours pass in a monotonous cycle of crunching ice and freezing wind. The deeper I go into the old-growth forest, the more the shadows seem to stretch and twist between the massive pine trunks.

A heavy, suffocating sensation of being watched settles over me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I stop every few hundred yards, holding my breath as I strain my entirely human ears for any sound that doesn’t belong to the wind or the waves.

Crack.

The sudden, distinct snap of a heavy twig echoes from the dense brush to my left. I freeze, my hand instinctively flying to the black stone necklace at my throat.

“Hello?” I call out, my voice sounding incredibly small against the backdrop of the crashing ocean. “Is someone there?”

Nothing answers but the whistling wind. I shake my head, cursing my own overactive imagination, and push forward, increasing my pace. But then I hear it again – a heavy, rhythmic patter of footsteps crunching through the crust of snow, keeping a perfectly synchronized distance behind me.

My mind immediately flashes to Thorne’s warning about the Reapers pushing the southern ridges, their massive, brutal forms tearing through the underbrush to eliminate any stragglers from our line. Cold panic flashes through my system, and I spin around, scanning the gray trunks and the dark thickets, but the forest is quiet and empty.

Then, right ahead of me in a small clearing near the cliff’s edge, I spot a neat, deliberate stack of ancient stones, topped with a three-pointed black crystal that catches the weak sunlight. It matches the shape and texture of the necklace around my neck exactly.

“Oh my God,” I breathe as relief crashes through me so hard my knees almost buckle.

The sudden wave of relief is instantly obliterated by the sound of rapid, heavy footsteps rushing directly through the brush behind me, moving with a terrifying, preternatural speed that tells me my pursuer has abandoned all attempts at stealth.

“Oh, hell no,” I whisper.

Terror takes complete control of my limbs. I don’t think, I don’t plan; I just bolt. I sprint blindly through the trees, my lungs burning as the freezing air tears down my throat. Branches whip across my face while my boots slam against uneven ground. 

Faster, Leia. Move faster.

My foot catches a root and I stumble violently sideways. And suddenly there’s no ground beneath me.

I tumble over the side of the cliff, a breathless, terrified scream tearing from my throat as the world spins upside down. The jagged rocks and the churning, black waters of the North Atlantic rise up to meet me with a terrifying velocity, and I brace myself for the inevitable, bone-crushing impact.

But the impact never comes.

Instead of crashing into the frozen sea, my descent stops with a sudden, cushiony jolt midair. A swirling, undulating platform of tangible darkness manifests beneath my body, catching me like a massive safety net. 

I gasp, my fingers digging into the dark mist as the mysterious force slowly, smoothly lifts me back up the vertical face of the cliff. It hovers for a fraction of a second before depositing me gently onto the snowy ledge right beside the three-pointed stone marker. The moment my boots touch solid ground, the dark smoke dissolves into the air like morning mist, leaving no trace behind.

I collapse onto my hands and knees, shivering violently as I draw ragged, freezing air into my lungs, my heart hammering so hard against my ribs it feels like an internal bruise.

“Well,” a smooth voice speaks from the treeline, breaking the silence. “That was almost an incredibly short semester.”

I look up, my breath catching in my throat as I push my tangled hair out of my eyes.

Standing between me and the dark pines is a tall, striking man with deep, dark skin and a commanding presence. He looks down at me expectantly, a polite, entirely charming smile curving his lips as he tilts his head.

“We’ve been looking for you, Leia.”