The Wolf King's Burden

Silver Falls

We ran through the night, our legs drumming out a beat of escape between ourselves and the complex of Kaine. The forests rang with the calls of pursuit, the yips of the hunt echoing off trees, the thudding of bodies running through cover, the ruthless chaos of a hunt by a pack.

Elara wrapped the Moonstone to her chest as we ran, its brightness illuminating enough for us to see. My legs burned, lungs cried, but I pushed myself harder. Owen had given us time with his own life. I wasn't going to waste it by getting caught now.

By early morning, we'd gone perhaps fifteen miles. Never enough. Not enough. But Elara was flagging, her skin gray with exhaustion. We had to take a break, if only for an hour.

I saw a dense thorn mass of brambles and shoved Elara into it, ignoring the thorns that tore at our already ripped clothes. The place to hide was small but camouflaged well, and the thorns would discourage anyone who might otherwise try to follow.

"Water," Elara panted. I pulled out the water bottle Owen had given me and handed it to her. She gulped, then handed it back. "How far to Silver Falls?"

"Maybe thirty miles west. If we keep this pace, we should be there by nightfall tomorrow." I looked at the Moonstone, still glowing in her hand. "You doing okay? That energy blast hit you hard."

"I'm fine. A bit light-headed, but fine." She rubbed her head, wincing. "The Moonstone is powerful. Just holding the thing, I feel the magic. It's ancient, older than the packs, maybe older than werewolves themselves."

"It glows in the full moon," Owen told her.

"It doesn't only glow. It magnifies magic, it makes rituals stronger. That's why Kaine kept it locked away, he knew that someone could use it against him." Elara wrapped the stone in cloth and stuffed it into her backpack. "With this, the Moonstone Ritual might be able to work. We might be able to cure your curse."

The hope in what she said hurt. I wanted to believe it too, wanted to imagine that three years of being a monster would be long enough, and that I could be human again. But hope was lethal. Hope made you careless.

"Describe the ritual," I said instead, changing the subject. "What actually happens?"

Elara leaned back against the thorns, gathering her thoughts. "The Moonstone Ritual is ancient magic, created by the first werewolves to repair shattered souls. It requires three things, earth from one's family, water from a sacred site, and something to power the magic. The Moonstone is our catalyst."

"And your life force is the adhesive."

"Yes." She didn't glance at me. "When we perform the ritual, I'll channel my life force through the Moonstone into you. It'll be adhesive, cementing back together the shattered pieces of your soul. If it's successful, you'll be whole. The curse will be lifted."

"And if it doesn't succeed?"

"Then I'll have wasted years of my life for nothing, and you'll still be cursed." She spoke in a straightforward way, but I sensed the fear underlying. "Or the ritual could completely fail. The power could be too much and destroy us both, kill us instantly. Old magic is capricious, especially when you're mixing blood magic with pack magic."

"You're afraid."

"Naturally I'm frightened. I'm going to perform a ritual that will likely kill me, to save a man I've only just met, while being hunted by the most lethal Alpha in the north. Fear does seem the natural response." She had finally looked at me. "But I'm more frightened of what will occur if I don't try. My grandmother put this curse. She destroyed your life, murdered your pack, made you into something you never desired to be. If I don't try to break it, her savagery succeeds. And I won't let that occur."

A howl ripped the air, near enough to put us both in ice. The hunters had tracked our path again. They were likely two miles behind, driving at top speed.

"We need to keep moving," I urged, forcing through the thorns. "Can you run?"

"I don't have a choice, do I?"

We ran again, west toward Silver Falls. The forest was getting hillier, rockier, tougher to walk. My boots were splattered with blood, and my whole body longed for rest. But the howls at our backs kept coming, a steady and coordinated patter.

Kaine wasn't sending trackers anymore. He'd summoned every member of his pack to assist with this hunt. We'd shamed him, stolen from him, embarrassed him in front of visiting Alphas. He would never rest until we were dead.

At noon, we found a river. Rapid water, too deep to swim. I looked for a bridge, for a fallen tree, for something. Nothing.

"We have to swim," Elara said, already wading into the water.

"That will erase our track. The trackers won't be able to trace us."

"That's the idea."

Water was as cold as ice, drawn from mountain snow. It hit me like a body shock, stealing my breath. I grabbed hold of Elara, keeping her from the current that was carrying her away, and we swam across to the other bank.

The current was stronger than it looked. It pulled on us, dragged us downriver. My arms throbbed as I fought against it, trying to tug us across. Elara kicked with all her might, helping, but the river was taking us.

We were swept around a bend, slammed against boulders, battered by the current. My grip on Elara was faltering. The cold was freezing all of my senses, causing my fingers to be slow and uncoordinated.

Then my feet touched bottom. Shallow water, finally. I pulled both of us out onto the rocky beach, spitting up river water and shivering with cold.

"The Moonstone," Elara coughed, clapping at her backpack in desperation. "Tell me it didn't."

The light continued on, faint through wet cloth. The Moonstone had survived.

"We have to go," I grind out, teeth chattering. "Get warm or we'll be dead before Kaine's wolves even find us."

We lurched through the trees, seeking refuge. My body was freezing up, hypothermic. Elara wasn't much better, her lips blue.

And then I smelled smoke. A campfire, maybe a quarter mile ahead of us.

"Perhaps hunters," Elara breathed. "Perhaps not safe."

"More not safe than freezing?"

We approached the camp silently, downwind. I could see, through the trees, a little clearing in which was a fire burning high. And sitting beside that fire, hooded in furs and drinking from a wooden bowl, was a woman I had never seen before.

She was old, around eighty or ninety, with white hair falling to her waist. Her face was weathered, like dried-out leather, and her eyes, when they moved in our direction, shone soft gold.

"Took you long enough," she growled, her voice raw with power. "I've been here two days, frozen to the bone, wondering if you'd show up. Come on, get warm before you freeze dead in idiocy."

Elara and I exchanged a look. There's no way this is just a coincidence. There's no way some stranger just happened to be camping out here with a fire going, waiting specifically for us.

"Who are you?" I snapped, reaching for my father's knife.

"Name's Nessa. I'm a Seer, and I've seen your futures. Both of them." She gestured toward the fire with an irritated hand. "Now sit down and get warm, or don't. Either way, the wolves that are following you will be here in about an hour, and you'll be happy to be alive and warm when they arrive."

A Seer. I'd heard of them, strange werewolves born with visions of possible futures. Most Alphas would give fortunes to have a Seer in their pack, but Seers were solitary. They lived alone, avoided pack politics, and only became involved when the future needed it.

"Why are you helping us?" Elara asked, sitting nearer the fire despite being suspicious.

"Because I saw what would occur if I didn't, and I didn't find it very pleasant." Nessa filled two additional mugs from a pot hanging above the fire and passed them to us. "Drink. It's tea with herbs that'll warm you through to the core. And don't even ask, no, it's not poisoned. If I wanted you dead, I'd just let you freeze."

The tea was bitter but hot. Within moments, I could feel heat spreading through my chest, fighting off the hypothermia. Elara, beside me, drained her own cup and requested more.

"You said you could see our futures," I said. "What did you see?"

Nessa's golden eyes were fixed on me. "I saw you standing at Silver Falls at the full moon, whole and human and unencumbered by your curse. I saw you lying dead in the woods, torn to pieces by Kaine's wolves, your blood staining the leaves. And I saw a third path where the ritual goes horribly wrong, where you become something worse than cursed, where you destroy all that you are trying to protect."

"Which future is most likely?" Elara breathed.

"That's for the choices you make in the next three days. The future's not predetermined, it's a tapestry of possibilities, shifting with every decision." Nessa refilled each of them a cup. "But I can tell you this: if you must survive to Silver Falls, you'll need help. Help which doesn't come free."

"What kind of help?" I asked, already dreading the answer.

Nessa smiled, and it wasn't comforting. "The kind that involves making a deal with someone considerably more dangerous than Kaine Blackthorne."