Chapter 3

LYRA'S POV

“Run!!” she screams again.

“Mum, what is – “

My phone slips out of my hands as I look out the window while trying to respond to my mum and make sense of what my mum meant.

Out the window were the most ferocious-looking giant werewolves I had ever seen. I wouldn’t have noticed if Cassie hadn’t suddenly fallen, giving me a clear view of the beast. Then I saw the others, coming from different directions. Aside from my dad, I had barely seen werewolves this huge.

It was obvious they were not from our pack. Kade was quivering and had landed on his back from a surprise attack. He had no time to shift.

I watched as the beast mauled him mercilessly. I could see Kade thrashing about, helplessly pinned to a spot and rendered motionless by probably a 180-pound wolf. Then he stopped moving. Out of fear, I screamed, and the beast locked eyes with me.

Oh! Moon goddess, save me!

I dash for the kitchen. There was a back door, and I wasted no time, winging the door open and running into the wild.

The wind whips my face from the sheer push of my limbs and arms, and I swing my long legs over branches and duck under hanging tree branches too high for comfort. My arms get scratched. It must be the trees, but I am not pausing to take note.

I hear the chaos within the pack. The cries. They sound gut-wrenching. Fear grips my mind, and my movement falters. I push harder, force myself to breathe, for I fear I am losing my breath.

Keep running, Lyra. I scream at my inner self vehemently. I am not faster than a werewolf, much less those insanely huge beasts. I panic.

Whatever the case, I have to keep running. I remember the pack training. Despite my not finding my wolf yet, Dad had forced me to train twice as hard as though I had a wolf.

Dad. Mum

Where could they be? Were they safe? Were they alive?

Tears stream down my face, blurring my vision, causing me to trip, rolling off the path. I jump up and keep running; my tempo has changed, and the momentum has dropped.

I was getting tired.

I imagine the beast was close to me and ran with a renewed surge of strength. I keep running, and then I collapse on the floor, wheezing terribly.

It appears there are so many ways to kill someone. Between heartbreak and running, I am beginning to believe running tops the list.

I stop wheezing, and the gory image of Kade thrashing on his driveway comes to me in a flash. I shiver and can no longer hold myself.

I am not that strong. My emotions are a mess.

My stomach suddenly gives a sharp pain, and the next thing I know, I am retching to the point at which nothing comes out of my mouth but spittle. I am a mess; there is snot all over my face, remnants of the vomit on my chin, and my eyelids are wet with fresh tears that had gathered due to my throwing up. I try to stand up, but I fall again, so I crawl for a while on the green brush, then sit up.

Strange

It doesn’t sound like I have been followed. I rest my back on the ground, trying to gain strength while I listen to the wild.

Still nothing.

It’s very hard to run in human form at this rate. I wish I had my wolf. I probably would have been outside my pack by now. I sit up and look around again.

Do I keep going or go back? I could have sworn the beast took a hot chase after me.

I wish there were a way I could reach out to the pack. I wish there were someone to call. I badly need to know if my parents are okay.

I wish I had my phone.

Who could have done this?

I rack my brain trying to remember conversations my dad had held with the council members or my mum, even. I shake my head as I can’t come up with anything.

I look around me while I try to estimate how long it would take for me to find myself in the nearest pack at this rate without any obstruction.

On foot, probably days, given that I don’t die of thirst or starve to death.

I stand up and wince, taking in a sharp breath. I believed I had sprained my ankle. So, I limp for a minute or two, then begin to walk gradually. There is a brook less than 500 meters away, which gives me a little hope.

I took a while to drink some water and wash my face, putting some pressure on my sprained leg to get the pressure evenly distributed while I was squatting.

I stand up, deciding it’s time to continue running, when I come out into a clearing flanked by dense thick brush as high as the sky on both sides of me, and I sight three werewolves.

I halt my movement, walking backwards carefully to avoid being seen or, worse, scented out. The moment I spun round to go in the direction I came from, I realized, much to my horror, it was a checkmate.