Chapter Two
896 Words
The night air bit harder the further I ran.
Leaves whipped against my cheeks, branches tugged at my cloak, roots threatened to trip me, but I didn’t stop.
I couldn’t. If I stopped, I’d feel it again, that tearing sensation in my chest, Kael’s voice looping in my head like poison.
“You’re nothing to me.”
I wanted to scream. To shift. To vanish. Anything but this.
But my wolf... she was gone.
Not dead. Just silent. As if Kael’s rejection had muted her too. No growls, no snarls, no words of comfort.
Only a hollow silence where her voice used to be. She had felt the bond snap just as violently as I did. Maybe worse.
We’d reached out for our mate.
And he had spat in our face.
My foot caught on a rock, and I went down hard. My knees slammed the dirt, and my palms scraped along gravel and moss.
I stayed there, not bothering to move. My cheek pressed to the cold ground as sobs punched their way out of my chest, one after the other, until I couldn’t breathe properly.
The moon still hung full and watchful above me, casting a pale silver glow on the earth.
The same moon that had blessed that stupid ceremony. The same moon that gave me Kael as a mate.
Had it made a mistake?
Or had it always been this cruel?
I curled in on myself beneath a fallen log. My ceremonial cloak bunched under me, once a mark of honor, now soaked and torn. It smelled like smoke. And failure.
This was supposed to be the night everything changed.
And it had.
Just not how I thought.
My breath came in shallow bursts. My chest felt bruised from the weight of it all.
I wasn’t just heartbroken, I was severed. Cut loose. A ghost of what I’d been only hours ago.
Rejected.
Abandoned.
And no one, not one person had stepped in. Not even the Elder.
Not the wolves I’d grown up around. They all just... watched. Watched Kael break me like I was nothing.
And they let him.
My hands clenched in the dirt. I wanted to cry again, but I was all cried out. I felt dry inside. Hollow. Like someone had scooped everything out of me and left the shell.
The forest was too quiet.
No wind.
No owls.
Just the pulsing in my ears and the faint buzzing that sometimes came when I was close to blacking out.
I don’t know how long I stayed there.
Minutes?
Hours?
Time didn’t feel real anymore.
Then I heard it.
A faint crack, a twig snapping under weight.
My spine stiffened. I sat up, slowly, wiping at my face with trembling fingers. My eyes scanned the darkness, catching faint movement beyond the trees.
Another sound. Closer this time.
I didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
If it was a rogue... let it come. Let it tear me apart. Wouldn’t that be easier than this?
But when the figure emerged again, it wasn’t what I expected.
Tall.
Broad shoulders under a dark cloak.
A slow, silent gait like he didn’t need to rush, like nothing could touch him.
He stepped into the moonlight.
And I saw his face.
Sharp jaw, high cheekbones, messy dark hair that curled slightly at the ends.
And those eyes. Cold, pale blue-grey eyes that didn’t glow with warmth like most wolves. They were still. Icy. A winter storm before it broke.
My heart stalled in my chest.
Not from fear. Not yet.
Just confusion.
And maybe... something else.
“You shouldn’t be out here,” he said, voice low and rough like crushed stone.
I swallowed, my throat raw. “You gonna kill me?”
He blinked once. “No.”
“Then keep walking.”
He didn’t.
Instead, he tilted his head. “You’re bleeding.”
I glanced down. My knees were scraped, my hands red and raw.
So what?
“Go away,” I mumbled.
But he didn’t move. He kept looking at me, like he was studying a puzzle he didn’t quite understand.
“I said.."
“You smell like fresh rejection,” he said, tone unreadable.
I flinched.
He wasn’t wrong.
He looked around the trees, then back at me. “They really let you leave?”
I didn’t answer.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
I stayed silent for a beat too long. Then muttered, “Elara.”
He gave a single nod, like the name confirmed something. Then turned and walked a few steps away.
I blinked.
What the hell?
He glanced back over his shoulder. “You coming or not?”
“I don’t even know who you are.”
“You don’t have to. But staying here’s not smart.”
“I don’t care.”
“Liar.” His voice didn’t rise. It was calm. Just a fact. “People who don’t care don’t cry like that.”
He wasn’t wrong about that either.
I didn’t trust him.
But I didn’t trust the forest either. And at least he wasn’t laughing at me or calling me an omega like I was trash.
I stood. My legs wobbled, but I stayed up. I hesitated for only a second longer before stumbling after him.
The trees swallowed us both, and for the first time all night, I didn’t feel completely alone.
- Writer
