Chapter 7

By the time I reached the roadside settlement, my feet had blistered, my clothes smelled of damp earth, and the last of my strength was beginning to fail me.

I had spent the better part of the night walking away from Blood Moon, refusing to turn around even when the distant howl of wolves carried through the trees. Whatever had happened in the forest, whatever strange force had made those wolves bow before me, I could not afford to stop and search for answers. I needed somewhere to sleep before exhaustion made the decision for me.

The settlement stood along a narrow road beyond the human borderlands, a collection of weathered buildings, small shops, and roadside stalls clustered around a fuel station. Trucks rumbled past at irregular intervals, stirring dust into the air, while a few early vendors arranged their goods beneath faded umbrellas.

The place was ordinary enough to make me feel strangely exposed. In Blood Moon, everyone knew my history, my supposed weakness, and the name of the man who had rejected me. Here, nobody should have known anything about me, and I intended to keep it that way.

I found a small boarding house behind a shop selling bread and household supplies. Its wooden sign hung crookedly above the entrance, and the woman at the front desk looked me over with the wary expression of someone accustomed to strangers arriving with problems. She was middle-aged, with gray threaded through her dark hair, and she wore a cardigan despite the mild morning air.

“How long are you staying?” she asked.

“One night, if that's possible.”

“Payment first.”

I nodded and reached into the inside pocket of my jacket. Mira, the Blood Moon healer, had pressed a small amount of money into my hand before I left, telling me it might help me reach somewhere safe. At the time, I had barely been able to thank her. Now, as I counted the notes on the counter, I understood how quickly even a small kindness could become the difference between shelter and sleeping beneath a tree.

The woman gave me a key and pointed toward a narrow staircase. My room was little more than a bed, a small table, and a window overlooking the road, but the door locked from the inside, and the sheets appeared clean. I placed my belongings beside the bed and sat down, letting the silence settle around me.

For the first time since leaving the territory, I had nothing to do except think.

The thought of Adrian's child had followed me through every mile. I could still remember the humiliation of standing before the gathered pack while he rejected me, his words turning the mate bond into something shameful that I was expected to carry alone.

Whatever had happened between us afterward, whatever confusion or desire had led us to that cabin, he had made his position clear the following morning. He had called our night a mistake and sent me away as though I were an inconvenience he wanted removed from his life.

Now I might have to raise his child without a family, without a pack, and without anyone who could guarantee that either of us would be safe. I did not know how I would afford food or find a permanent place to live. I did not know whether the child would inherit Adrian's wolf or the same emptiness everyone believed defined me. I could barely imagine the future, but I knew I would not return to Blood Moon simply because I was frightened.

I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling until the lines in the plaster blurred. My mother had been dead for years, and Garrick had never made me feel that I belonged in his home. And Rosalie, she had spent most of my life reminding me that I was unwanted, while Seraphina had treated my presence as an insult to the family she hoped to build around her daughter.

There was no comfort waiting for me behind those walls, only people who would see my pregnancy as another opportunity to control me.

I pressed my palm against my stomach, not because I expected to feel anything, but because the gesture steadied me. “I don't know how we're going to manage,” I whispered. “But I won't let them decide what happens to us.”

The words sounded fragile in the empty room, yet saying them aloud made them feel more like a promise than a desperate hope.

I slept for several hours and woke late in the afternoon with a dull ache behind my eyes. After washing my face and drinking some water, I left the boarding house in search of food.

The settlement had grown busier, and the air carried the smells of cooking oil, exhaust fumes, and freshly baked bread. I bought something inexpensive from a roadside stall and ate beneath the shelter of a closed shop, keeping my eyes lowered whenever strangers passed.

I had nearly finished when a man staggered out of a nearby drinking establishment. His shirt was untucked, his steps uneven, and the sour smell of alcohol reached me before he came close enough to speak. He noticed me sitting alone and veered toward the wall, blocking the easiest path back to the road.

“You've been sitting here a long time,” he said, leaning closer than necessary. “Waiting for somebody?”

“No.”

“Then why are you looking so miserable?”

“I'm eating. Please leave me alone.”

He laughed, apparently amused by my refusal to entertain him. When I stood, he shifted to block my path again, his expression changing from drunken curiosity to irritation.

“Don't be rude. I'm only talking to you.”

“I said leave me alone.”

I tried to move around him, but he caught my sleeve. The contact brought back a rush of memories I had spent years trying to bury: Garrick's fingers closing around my arm, Rosalie laughing when I stumbled, and the familiar certainty that nobody would intervene if someone decided to hurt me. I pulled against his grip, and when he tightened it, something inside me surged.

“Let go of me!”

The air seemed to contract around us. A sudden pressure swept through the narrow space, stirring dust from the ground and rattling a loose metal sign against the wall. The man released me so abruptly that he stumbled backward, his face draining of color. For a moment, he stared at me as though he had seen something standing behind my shoulder.

“What are you?” he whispered.

I had no answer. Heat spread through my chest, similar to what I had felt when the wolves bowed in the forest, but this time it came with a sharp ache that made my knees weaken. I gripped the wall to steady myself, frightened by the strength of the sensation and the effort it took to keep my breathing even.

The man backed away without another word. His earlier arrogance had vanished, replaced by a terror so complete that he seemed unwilling even to turn his back on me. He hurried toward the drinking establishment, glancing over his shoulder before disappearing inside.

I stood still until the pressure faded. Then I straightened my jacket, collected the food I had dropped, and walked away before anyone could come outside to investigate.

I could not explain what had happened, and I had no intention of giving strangers an opportunity to decide what it meant. Whatever was changing inside me, I needed time to understand it before someone else tried to use it against me.

By the time I returned to the boarding house, evening had settled over the settlement. I locked my door, drew the curtains, and sat beside the window with the room's only lamp switched off. The road below was busy enough to make me feel less alone, but every unfamiliar footstep on the stairs brought me upright.

Far away, at Blood Moon, my disappearance had already become an accusation.

Rosalie had convinced Garrick that I had deliberately humiliated the Blackwood family by leaving after Adrian's rejection. She presented my departure as calculated defiance rather than the desperate escape it had been, insisting that allowing me to disappear without consequence would encourage others to challenge the family's authority. Garrick, furious at the thought of being embarrassed before the pack, ordered warriors to search the surrounding territory and bring me back.

Marcus Hale, Adrian's Beta, quietly delayed the deployment of several warriors, questioning whether a rushed search would accomplish anything beyond spreading rumors. His hesitation bought me time, though I knew nothing of it. I only knew that I could not stay in the settlement indefinitely, and that the strange power I had felt twice in less than a day was becoming impossible to dismiss.

Night deepened, and I was preparing to rest when a soft knock sounded at my door.

I froze. I had spoken to no one about my past, given the boarding-house owner no name beyond the one required for the room, and kept my face turned away from anyone who might recognize me. Whoever stood outside had no reason to seek me out.

Another knock followed, quieter than the first.

“Who is it?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

A pause stretched between us. Then a stranger spoke from the corridor, their voice calm enough to make my skin prickle.

“Elena Blackwood, you need to leave before they find you.”

My blood went cold. I had come here to become nobody, to disappear into a place where my name carried no history and no danger. Yet the stranger knew exactly who I was, and from the silence that followed, I understood they knew more than they had said.

I moved toward the door but did not unlock it.

“Who are you?” I demanded.

The stranger answered with a warning that made the room feel suddenly smaller.

“Someone who knows what happens to women like you when the wrong wolves discover they're still alive.”