Chapter 4

I run home in the middle of the storm. When I arrive, I grab a sheet and gather the few of my mother’s valuables that I’ve managed to hide all these years. I rush out as fast as I can and flee into the forest, in the opposite direction from the pack’s sacred place. Even so, shortly afterward, I hear the wolves chasing me. He’s sent a group of enforcers after me.

I venture deep into the dark forest, where the light of the lightning doesn’t reach because of the foliage in the treetops. I hear them behind me; they aren’t coming silently because they know that the psychological pressure and the terror of hearing your pursuer coming after you only make it easier to lose control and make a mistake, plus, they enjoy the psychological torture and the scent of terror.

I pray I don’t trip and fall, because I won’t survive the executioners, but it’s difficult with the torrential rain and the muddy, slippery ground. The growls and howls behind me draw closer from time to time, they’re having a lot of fun with this. I run as fast as I can, but there’s no way I can shake them off.

I hold out hope that I can escape because I finally have the chance to be free, and ever since Mom died, I promised myself that if I had the chance to escape, even if I might die in the process, I’d rather die free, and on the run than enslaved and defeated by them.

My only hope is to cross a border before they catch up to me, because they won’t be able to act against me on foreign territory, and if they get sufficiently intoxicated by the scent of terror and the excitement of the hunt, they’ll be so distracted that they won’t notice the invisible lines dividing territories.

On this side of the forest, the border with neighboring packs is closer than in other areas, which is why I decided to come this way. If I manage to cross, they won’t be able to follow me, and I’ll only have to face the wolves of the other pack. I’ll beg for mercy, asking them to let me leave that territory alive and unharmed; I’ll make them see that I’m just passing through.

My lungs tire quickly, but I can sense that a border is near. The sense of familiarity I’ve felt my whole life is fading. When I finally cross, I feel it in my gut. I’m no longer trapped in that horrible place. Even so, the wolves of Silver River don’t stop chasing me, and I know that if they catch me, they’ll claim they killed me by accident, that I was a fugitive they had to capture.

When they finally catch up to me, I can’t help but cry at the thought of my imminent death, which makes it harder to run. My hopes begin to fade, yet I make one last effort and run as fast as I can, but something in the muddy ground snags my foot. I fall, rolling uncontrollably, crashing into rocks and bushes on my way to my death.

I hear them howling triumphantly right above me, and I don’t even have time to get back up. The wolves of Silver River pounce on me, and I feel the first bites and tugs. I scream in agony as the executioners’ jaws tear into my body.

I scream in terrible pain and agony, certain that my death will be slow and painful, but in the midst of the ferocious attack, an unfamiliar howl answers my cries of agony. However, I have no strength left, and darkness drags me into unconsciousness.

The last thing I see is a huge wolf, black as night, lunging at the throat of one of the executioners and snapping his neck in a single motion; after that, I only feel the darkness swallowing me up, and I welcome it because it brings me peace.

I feel as if I’m sleeping on a soft cloud. It’s incredible, and all I can think about is that I’m dead, I’ve reached heaven, and now I’m free. I’ll never feel pain again.

I smile.

But then consciousness returns to me, slowly. I’m not dead, and I’m not sleeping on a cloud, though, whatever I am sleeping on, it feels just like one.

I open my eyes slowly, and although the room is dark, I realize I’m lying on a huge four-poster bed, with sheets and blankets made of silk so soft they feel like a cloud. Besides, I’m clean, covered in bandages, and wearing pajamas—also made of silk.

In the dim light, I can see that I’m in a room that appears to be built of stone, like an old house or a castle. The room is very spacious and seems so large that, if there are more rooms like this one, it would even outshine the Silver River Alpha’s mansion.

Am I really alive? I’m almost certain I died and went to heaven. However, the fact that I can still feel and see makes me believe I’m still alive. I confirm that I can feel the pain from my wounds reaching my brain.

I’m alive, but I don’t know where I am.

The pain makes me groan, and soon a door opens. — Miss, you’re finally awake. We were worried about you. — A woman enters carrying a tray with bandages and a bowl.

— It’s time to change your bandages. You’re healing well, but given your condition, it will take longer than usual, she says as she turns on a dim lamp.

— Where am I?

— Don’t worry about that right now; the important thing is that you recover soon. — She takes the silk blanket covering me and gently pulls it aside. — We’ll have to change your pajamas. The others will be here in a moment; I’ll check on you first.

— The others?

— I need help undressing you, cleaning you, checking your stitches, changing your bandages, and then dressing you again. We prefer to have several people so we can move you more easily without hurting you. Some of the stitches could come apart, and that would slow down your healing. Don’t worry, we’re all very capable. You’re in good hands.