Chapter 4

Seris’s POV

I rose as quickly as my trembling legs would allow and collapsed onto the bed, desperate not to further enrage him. Face pressed into the cool sheets, I trembled and wept as I felt the cold kiss of steel against my already torn flesh. He was carving words into my back, each syllable etched into the raw wound, but I couldn’t make out what he was spelling. All I knew was agony. Too weak to scream, I could only choke back sobs as the pain flared hotter with every incision.

“I see you aren’t crying out,” he sneered. “Guess this doesn’t hurt enough.” Without warning, he drove the knife deeper. Heat erupted through me, and finally, a raw scream tore from my throat. He yanked the blade free and plunged it again, over and over.

“Just kill me already!” I wailed between broken sobs.

He paused, the knife hovering in midair as he grinned. “No… I have one more surprise for you.”

The distant creak of the door startled me. Someone entered, but I couldn’t see who—until I heard the small voice. “Mummy.”

My heart lurched. Nessa. I turned my head and saw her clutching her ragged Moonbun. Her wide eyes took in me, bloodied and bent over the bed, and then him—the man she didn’t yet know as her father.

“What are you going to do to her?” I screamed. “Let her go!” I couldn’t bear the thought of him harming my innocent child as he had done to my own father.

He laughed, low and cruel, beckoning. “She’s going to join our fun. Come here.”

Nessa hesitated, tears pooling in her big, green eyes as though she sought my permission.

“I said come here, you mutt!” His hand came down hard across her cheek. She cried out, clutching her face, and I knew I had to act.

My hand darted to the bedside shelf. My fingers closed around the syringe—silver and wolfsbane brewed into a lethal cocktail. Without thought, I rose, edged around the bed, and drove the needle into his neck.

“Bitch!” he roared, ripping the syringe free and grabbing my throat. Pain exploded across my windpipe, but fury lent me strength. I kicked at him, though he was already weakened by the poison. He staggered and shoved me until my back slammed against the wall.

“I will end you this instant!” he thundered.

Behind me came Nessa’s voice. “Leave her alone!” She sprang forward and struck at his leg. Enraged, he kicked her viciously across the floor, sending her skidding into the far wall.

I seized the moment. My hand flicked to the lamp on the bedside table. With all the force I could muster, I hurled it at his skull. The porcelain base shattered against bone with a sickening crack. Malrik Corebane collapsed in a heap.

I didn’t pause to see if he still lived. I scooped Nessa into my arms and fled the room.

Our escape was a blur of panic and pain. I stumbled down the narrow hallway and limped toward the basement door, still naked save for the wounds that stung in the cold air. Nessa whimpered in my arms, her small body trembling against mine. We reached the dank basement and I laid her down gently before beginning to pack. Clothing, water, food—anything we could carry.

“Eirwen, I do not need your commentary now,” I muttered, glancing at the ethereal echo of my wolf spirit that hovered at my side. “Can you heal our wounds?”

“Not yet,” Eirwen replied with a sardonic tinge. “We’re too weak. But hurry—someone is finally fleeing this atrocious place.”

I wrapped a simple gown around myself, then scooped Nessa into my arms once more, hoisting the sack onto my shoulder.

“Where are we going?” she asked, voice small and uncertain.

“Far away from here, baby,” I whispered, guiding her through the shadows.

We slipped out of the packhouse under the cloak of night. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled as we moved through the forest, still within Core Moon territory. My breath came in ragged gasps; Nessa clung to me, her little heart hammering against my chest. We skirted patrols and slipped past sentry wolves until the land beneath our feet shifted—signaling we neared the border.

At the tree line I knelt and placed Nessa on the ground. She dropped Moonbun and looked up at me, tears tracking down her cheeks.

“Baby, I need you to do something very important,” I said softly. “I need you to shift into your wolf form. I need Mirelle to take over.”

“Are we running away from the bad place?” she asked.

“Yes, sweetheart. We are.”

“And we’ll be happy, with food and a daddy?”

I forced a smile as I stroked her hair. “Yes, my love.”

She laid Moonbun on the earth, sat and closed her eyes. I watched as her small fists trembled. Pale silver fur rippled across her skin, claws lengthening, muzzle elongating. The transformation came easier this time—a beautiful silver pup stood before me where Nessa had been.

“Mirelle,” I breathed, relief flooding me.

“I did it!” the pup barked, dancing in small circles.

I stood, brushing aside the torn gown. It was time to sever all ties.

“I, Seris Nightvale, omega of the Core Moon pack, officially reject Malrik Corebane,” I declared to the silent night. “From this moment on, I choose the life of a rogue.”

A sudden jolt of power coursed through me as I felt the pack’s hold break. I shifted fully, fur sprouting and limbs reshaping until Eirwen guided my body as a wolf. She moved to the pack behind us and picked up the sack in her jaws, while Mirelle retrieved Moonbun in hers.

“Are we really doing this?” I asked Eirwen, sprinting into the forest.

“About time,” she replied, our speed exhilarating.

We ran until sweat glistened on our fur and paws ached. Mirelle slowed, dropping Moonbun. “I’m thirsty,” she panted.

“Not far,” Eirwen said, scenting the air. “I hear water.”

Sure enough, a clear stream appeared between rustling reeds. We drank deeply, the icy water soothing our parched throats.

“I don’t want to stay here,” Eirwen murmured. “Wild rogues could find us.”

“Agreed,” I said, rising. We called Mirelle and plunged back into the shadows, letting the moon guide our path.

Night deepened, exhaustion weighed on us. Finally, a moonlit clearing beckoned beneath a giant oak.

“We rest here,” Eirwen declared. “We can’t move another step.”

Without shifting back, we collapsed against the tree’s roots, weary bodies melting into the grass. Mine was heavy with relief and dread in equal measure.

Rustling in the undergrowth jolted me awake. Eirwen stirred beside me, alert and trembling.

Six enormous wolves burst from the bushes—disciplined pack warriors, not rogues. Their low growls vibrated through my bones.

“What do we do?” I whispered. Eirwen snarled, shielding Mirelle as best she could.

Then a scent—wood and pine, lavender on the wind—swept through us. It was intoxicating.

A colossal black wolf leaped into the clearing, towering and majestic. His fur caught the moonlight, eyes gleaming like polished obsidian. He positioned himself between us and the warriors, who backed off, uncertain.

Time seemed to freeze. Eirwen’s voice trembled. “Mate.”