Chapter 2: Into the Wild
1094 Words
The jungle was alive with murmurs.
Every broken twig beneath Aria’s bare feet reverberated like a rhythm in her ears. She strolled through the trees with her arms wrapped securely around her midsection, shielding the life within her like a shield. Her ceremonial gown was drenched and clung to her body like a second skin, heavy with mud and blood from a little cut on her knee.
She didn’t know how long she had been walking. Hours, maybe. The moon had shifted. The rain had lessened, but the wind still hissed through the branches like it had secrets to tell.
Each stride was anguish, but each breath was survival.
She couldn’t cry anymore. Her tears had dried on her cheeks, leaving behind salt and guilt. The agony in her chest throbbed with every memory of Dariushis voice, his touch, the way he once gazed at her like she was his whole universe.
And now?
Now she was a discarded name. A phantom no longer welcome in the place she called home.
She stumbled over a tree root and caught herself on a branch. Her legs trembled. The forest seemed endless.
“I have to find shelter,” she said to herself. “For him.”
Her hands rested on her lower belly. She closed her eyes and reached deep, seeking the pulse of her youngster. His heartbeat thrummed quietly within her, steady and strong.
“You’re still with me,” she whispered. “You’re all I have left.”
Lightning flashed in the distance again, but this time it wasn’t accompanied by thunder.
Instead, the silence that followed was... wrong.
Too quiet.
Her wolf roused inside her.
Something was watching.
She froze, eyes scouring the darkness. The trees around her were silent, but her instincts screamed.
Movement.
A rustle of leaves. Low growl.
Rogues.
Two wolves appeared from the shadows, their black fur matted with filth, eyes gleaming with hunger and something worse ,recognition.
“Well, well,” one of them murmured, his voice hoarse as he transformed into partial human shape. “If it isn’t the fallen Luna. Lost your pack, princess?”
Aria’s stomach constricted. Her wolf bristled beneath her skin, pushing her to run. But she was feeble, unshifted, and bearing a kid. Fighting now would be suicide.
“I don’t want trouble,” she responded evenly. “Let me pass.”
The other rogue laughed. “You don’t want trouble, but you walked into rogue territory dressed like a banquet.”
They circled her slowly. Her back hit a tree. She could sense their perfume now bitter, nasty, desperate.
The first rogue lunged.
Aria ducked, kicking out hard. Her foot hit him in the side and he stumbled, hissing.
The second came in faster. Aria grabbed a big branch and swung with everything she had. It cracked against his jaw, sending him reeling.
But they were only stunned.
Not stopped.
One of them tackled her from behind, and she yelled as they hit the ground. Her hands quickly covered her stomach, hiding her unborn child.
“Please,” she cried, “don’t hurt my baby”
A swirl of action.
A violent snarl burst through the clearing.
Suddenly, the rogue on top of her was gone, ripped away by a gigantic silver wolf with brilliant gold eyes.
The beast moved like lightning, knocking the rogue into a tree with bone-cracking force. Blood splattered against the bark. The second rogue tried to flee, but the silver wolf pursued him down, hitting with unyielding fury.
And then, stillness again.
Aria lay trembling, her body curled protectively around her belly, too astonished to move.
The silver wolf turned toward her.
He shifted.
And there before her was a towering, broad-shouldered man with disheveled platinum hair and fierce, wolf-sharp golden eyes. His skin was smeared with blood, his chest rising with heavy gasps, but his gaze was gentle.
“You’re pregnant,” he murmured softly.
Aria’s lips twitched. “Who... who are you?”
“My name is Lucien,” he replied, squatting beside her. “You’re lucky I was nearby. These forests aren’t safe for anyone, certainly not someone alone. Or... expecting.”
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She didn’t know this man. Didn’t know if she could trust him. But his atmosphere was peaceful. Stable. Powerful.
A natural alpha.
Lucien softly touched her shoulder. “I’m not here to hurt you. You’re hurt and freezing. Let me take you somewhere safe. You and your pup.”
Aria paused.
Trust had shattered in her hands only hours before. But the youngster inside her surged with warmth again, steadying her.
She nodded.
Lucien hoisted her easily, carrying her bridal style through the trees. His fragrance was clean and piney. His grip firm but gentle.
After a few minutes, they approached a small, hidden hut encircled by stones inscribed with protection runes. Aria blinked. She hadn’t even smelled the place before.
He put her gently on a big fur blanket and began preparing a fire.
“Who are you really?” she questioned faintly, eyeing him.
Lucien peered over his shoulder, eyes twitching with something inscrutable.
“I used to be part of a pack like yours. Long ago. Before betrayal tore it apart.”
The flames sparked to life, spreading golden light over the room.
“I know what it’s like to lose everything.”
Aria glanced at him more closely. There was pain in his countenance. Buried, yet deep.
“I’m Aria,” she said. “Former Luna of the Shadowfang Pack. Rejected. Accused. Exiled.”
Lucien’s gaze narrowed slightly.
“I’ve heard of Shadowfang. And of Alpha Darius.”
Aria’s voice hardened. “Then you know what kind of monster he is.”
Lucien didn’t answer straight away. Instead, he placed additional wood to the fire and stood, crossing his arms.
“I know what it looks like when someone’s been broken... and someone who refuses to stay that way.”
Their eyes locked.
It was the first time in hours Aria didn’t feel utterly alone.
Outside, the wind howled.
But inside the cabin, something stirred in the air between them, recognition, maybe... or the first hint of something fate hadn’t finished weaving.
Aria sighed deeply and let herself relax for the first time since the rejection.
But just as her eyes started to slip closed.
A strong knock hit the door.
Once. Twice.
Then quiet.
Lucien’s entire body tightened.
And when he opened the door
A bloodied Shadowfang scout slumped at his feet, moaning, “They’re coming... for her.”
- Writer
