Chapter Three.
1023 Words
I didn’t ask where we were going. Honestly, I didn’t care.
I just kept my eyes locked on the dark cloak ahead of me, following the strange man through the trees like a lost shadow.
Branches clawed at my arms, but I didn’t flinch. My boots slipped over rocks slick with moss, but I didn’t fall.
Something about his presence held me steady, like even the forest dared not trip me in front of him.
We didn’t speak.
He didn’t turn to check if I was still behind him. But somehow, I knew he knew I was.
He moved with that quiet confidence of someone who didn’t need to look back to know what was following him.
The deeper we went, the thicker the trees grew. Gnarled roots tangled across the path, and strange bird calls echoed in the distance, too distant, too hollow to be normal.
The air tasted like damp earth and old secrets.
Every part of me screamed that I should turn back.
But I didn’t.
Because there was nothing left to return to.
After what felt like hours, we reached a break in the woods.
The trees opened into a clearing surrounded by tall stone walls, half-eaten by vines and moss.
Ancient. Cracked. Like something forgotten by time.
A gate stood open. Iron, rusted, tall enough to block out the moonlight behind us.
He stepped inside.
I followed.
The air changed instantly.
It was warmer here. Not soft or welcoming, but solid. Protected. Like stepping into another world.
Inside the walls, an old stone manor rose from the earth.
It wasn’t grand or polished like the Alpha hall in Red Moon — this place was quiet, shadowed, and eerie. But it felt… alive. Like it was holding its breath.
I paused at the threshold.
He didn’t wait for me. He pushed open the heavy oak door and disappeared inside.
For a second, I hesitated. Then my body moved without permission, following him like a moth drawn to a flame it didn’t understand.
The inside was dim, lit only by lanterns that flickered with soft golden fire.
The air smelled of pine, old smoke, and something faintly metallic blood? No, older. More like… steel. History.
The wooden floors creaked beneath my boots. I half-expected the place to collapse under its own weight, but it held steady.
He led me through the main room , high ceilings, faded rugs, shelves full of books that looked like they hadn’t been touched in years.
No portraits. No signs of family. No warmth. Just stone and wood and silence.
I wanted to ask if he loved here alone, but I was too tired to even think.
“This way,” he said, the first words he’d spoken in over an hour.
His voice echoed in the silence, low and clipped.
He led me up a narrow staircase, then down a hallway lit by moonlight spilling through cracked windows.
At the end was a small room. A bed. A chair. A faded wool blanket folded neatly at the edge.
He stepped aside and nodded toward the bed. “You can sleep here. Just for the night.”
I didn’t move.
“You’re not a prisoner,” he added. “But the forest is worse than anything inside these walls. So if you want to run, wait until morning.”
“Who are you?” I asked finally, my voice hoarse.
He looked at me for a long time before answering. “Damon.”
“Just Damon?”
His mouth twitched like something almost resembling a smirk. “For now.”
I stepped into the room. The air was warmer here. Still smelled of dust, but there was something clean about it too. Safe-ish.
Damon stood in the doorway, watching me like I was a puzzle piece that didn’t fit.
“You don’t ask many questions,” he said.
“I’ve already had too many answers tonight,” I replied, curling my fingers into fists. “None of them good.”
He nodded once. “Rest. There’s food in the kitchen if you’re strong enough to walk there.”
I didn’t say thank you.
He didn’t expect me to.
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
And I was alone again.
I sat on the edge of the bed, muscles aching. My skin still felt like it didn’t belong to me.
My heart still throbbed like it had been torn out and stitched back in wrong.
But for the first time in hours, I didn’t feel like I was about to shatter into pieces.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t sleep.
I just sat there, staring at the wall until my breathing evened out and the ache in my chest dulled to a simmer.
I didn’t know who Damon was. Didn’t know why he’d helped me. But I knew one thing for sure.
He wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met.
And whatever he was… he wasn’t just a wolf.
Something about him hummed with power. Something deeper. Older. More dangerous than even Kael.
But strangely… I wasn’t afraid.
Not yet.
Eventually, I peeled off the ruined cloak, folded it on the chair, and pulled the scratchy blanket around me. It wasn’t soft, but it was warm, and right now that was enough.
I laid down on the mattress, stiff and worn, and stared at the cracked ceiling.
Images of Kael’s face kept flashing in my mind.
His eyes when he looked at me.
That twisted laugh.
The disgust in his voice.
"You're nothing to me."
Gods, I wished I could unhear it.
I clutched the edge of the blanket tighter. I didn’t even realize I’d started trembling again.
A soft noise from outside the door made me tense. A footstep?
Then nothing.
Just the wind whistling through the stone.
I exhaled slowly. Whatever Damon was doing out there, he wasn’t bothering me.
That was more than I could say for anyone else in my life.
I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring.
But tonight, I wasn’t in Red Moon.
I wasn’t at Kael’s mercy.
And maybe… just maybe… I wasn’t broken beyond repair.
Not yet.
- Writer
