07 In The Woods

Adasha

I ran with everything I had, my legs burning as Willow, my wolf, propelled me forward with relentless determination.

The pain Randy had inflicted was a distant ache now, dulled by adrenaline and the single-minded drive to escape. I couldn’t afford to feel it. I couldn’t afford to stop.

Every pounding beat of my paws against the forest floor was a desperate push toward freedom.

 His cruel words echoed in my mind, spurring me on. 

The sting of my bruises and the ragged sound of my breath didn’t matter anymore. All I wanted was to get away. To be free.

This was my moment, my chance to reclaim my life, and I couldn’t waste it.

With each stride, I prayed fervently. Please, don’t let Randy catch me this time.

My heart, already fractured from years of torment, couldn’t endure another failure. 

My body and Willow wouldn’t survive another round of his wrath. 

This was it—the final push, the last desperate grasp at survival—and I clung to it with everything I had.

I had no destination in mind, no clear plan, but I trusted my instincts to guide me. 

My heightened sense of smell kept me from running in circles. 

The familiar earthy scents of Woodshire faded with every mile, replaced by fresher, wilder aromas. 

That was all that mattered—distance. I needed to put as much space as possible between myself and that cursed pack.

Paranoia gnawed at me. 

Though Randy wasn’t home, the pack was full of watchers and opportunists, wolves eager to earn his favour. 

What if someone had seen me? What if a hunting party was already on my trail? 

I imagined their howls cutting through the night, the pounding of their paws growing louder as they closed in.

Fear tightened in my chest, but I forced myself to keep moving.

Pamela’s face flashed in my mind, and guilt twisted my stomach. She had taken a risk for me, and though I hoped her mate Jacob would protect her, there were no guarantees. 

I was grateful for her help, but her sacrifice would mean nothing if I didn’t succeed. I had to make it. For her. For me.

The farther I pushed into the woods, the more Woodshire faded behind me. 

The air grew lighter, tinged with the delicate scents of wildflowers and fresh vegetation. 

The oppressive familiarity of the pack was gone, replaced by the foreign, untamed wildness of the unknown.

For the first time, I felt a flicker of relief. 

I was far from Woodshire now. How far, I couldn’t say, but I knew I had put real distance between myself and the nightmare I was leaving behind.

When exhaustion finally overtook me, I slowed to a stop, my legs trembling with fatigue. 

I shifted back into my human form, the transformation leaving me weak and vulnerable. 

Collapsing beneath the shelter of a towering oak tree, I pressed my back against its rough bark and let myself breathe.

Its ancient branches stretched high above me, a comforting canopy of shade. The air was cool and gentle, the silence broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant call of birds. For the first time in years, I felt the faintest whisper of hope.

I wasn’t free yet. But I was closer than I had ever been.

For three days, I alternated between running and resting, pushing my body to its absolute limits. 

The woods became my sanctuary, their dense canopy shielding me from prying eyes. 

The further I travelled, the more the lingering scents of Woodshire faded, replaced by the crisp, unfamiliar air of the east.

By the third day, I felt the weight of the west lifting. 

Randy’s suffocating influence was gone, replaced by the vastness of a world I hadn’t seen before.

As I sat beneath the shade of another massive oak tree, I allowed myself a small, shaky smile. For the first time in years, hope flickered in my chest.

The memories of Woodshire, of Randy, and of the life I had escaped began to dull with every step. It felt surreal. 

My heart swelled with cautious relief, though I knew the danger wasn’t over. Randy was undoubtedly searching for me by now. But this time, I’d outsmarted him. 

He’d scour the familiar places—those I’d run to in my previous, failed attempts. He wouldn’t expect me to disappear this deeply into unknown territory.

Still, I knew the trick was staying hidden.

Resting beneath the oak’s sturdy branches, I finally let my guard down for the first time in days. My body eased, tension melting away as I allowed myself a moment to simply breathe.

That was my first mistake.

The sound was faint—barely a whisper of paws against the forest floor. 

My wolf, Willow, stirred instantly, but it was too late. 

Panic surged through me as I scrambled to my feet, ready to shift and run. But the shadows around me moved with terrifying precision, and I realized I was already surrounded.