Constance's Power

Chapter 3. Escape into the Unknown

Constance POV

Lyra and I ran for hours, panting as the thick trees began to close in around us. Neither of us had spoken much since we left Ironhowl, busy by the fear of recapture—which coursed through our veins—and the exhaustion that settled over our limbs. I glanced back behind me more than once, half-expecting Keen's soldiers to burst from the trees at any moment. But there was nothing—only endless blackness before us.

"We need to stop for a bit," Lyra said, halting near a large cluster of trees. "We can't keep running like this without a break." My legs throbbed from the relentless pace, and my head felt foggy from exhaustion. "Okay. But just for a little while. We can't linger here."

We found a quiet place behind a huge tree with thick enough branches to shield us from the chill night air. Lyra collapsed on the forest floor. Her chest was shaking as she caught her breath. I did the same and lay at her side. The damp earth was freezing beneath.

"Do you think they're still looking for us?" I whispered.

Lyra shook her head, raising her eyes to the sky. "Who knows? After what Keen did, he may not bother. But we can't take any chances."

The truth was, I wasn't sure if I wanted him to be looking for me or not. A part of me hoped he hadn't let me go so easily, as if I didn't matter enough for him to send someone after me. But another part of me understood that if they caught us, I'd never escape Ironhowl again. Keen's rejection had shattered me, but being dragged back would destroy me.

Lyra shifted beside me, rummaging through her small backpack and pulling out a piece of dried meat. "Here, eat something. You need your strength."

This was the fifth, sixth, or seventh time Keen had repeated this cruel declaration, and my stomach contorted in a snarl. But I continued to eat because I had enough of being weak.

I wished I had my wolf. Without her, I felt vulnerable and incomplete. The tie I expected—the strength and closeness that came with becoming a wolf—was missing. I was alone in a world where existence depended on inner strength, and I wasn't sure how long I could last without it.

Hours passed, and I struggled against sleep, but it eventually overcame me. My eyelids felt heavy, and a troubled sleep provided me with refuge.

When I woke up, it was cold and foggy. It was just dawn. Lyra was already awake, kneeling beside me. Her eyes were searching for any signs of danger.

"We need to move," she whispered softly, glancing down at me. "We have no idea how far we are from the next pack's territory."

I nodded and groaned as I pushed myself up. My muscles protested, stiff from lying on the cold ground, but I forced myself to ignore the pain. We couldn't afford to rest.

The forest became more difficult, with denser trees and shrubs as we moved through. Time dragged itself along, though. We pressed on, driven by a desperate need to reach secure grounds before nightfall.

Then, peals of thunder split the skies. The rain started in buckets, soaking us very quickly. The cold stung my skin, but we had to press on. Lyra led the way, steady and sure-footed, though the circumstances were hardly in her favor.

After what felt like hours, a foul odor invaded the air, twisting my stomach in knots. I froze, my heart pounding. I recognized that smell. Rogues.

Lyra stopped next to me. Her narrow eyes scanned each branch, each smallest blade of grass. "Do you smell that?"

I nodded and dread washed over me. The stench was unmistakable—decay, rot, and something more primal. My pulse quickened, and I instinctively took a step back. Defenseless without my wolf.

"Stay close," Lyra said in a low voice but tense tone. She reached for the small dagger strapped to her thigh and held on to it tightly. "If they come for us, don’t hesitate. We can’t show any mercy."

Suddenly, a pair of bright red eyes pierced through the rain, followed by the hulking form of a rogue wolf. Dirt-coated, bedraggled fur clung to its frame, behind which glistened predatory with its hungry eyes. Even the rain couldn't wash away the smell of death.

Lyra hissed and stepped before me, ready to protect. "Get ready."

The rogue was as quick as lightning. Teeth bared, it launched itself straight at my throat. There was no time to think; I barely got out of the way before Lyra shoved me aside, facing the creature with a fierce snarl. She dodged the first attack, piercing the side of the rogue with the blade, but it got only more desperate for our blood.

I sprang to my feet, my heart racing as I watched Lyra fight. She was strong, but the rogue was brutal. Grabbing a branch from the ground, I clutched it tightly.

The rogue lunged at Lyra, its teeth sinking into her arm. She cried out in pain but stood her ground. In a swift, brutal motion, she drove her dagger into the rogue's chest, twisting the blade until the creature let out a final, gurgling breath and collapsed.

Lyra dropped to her knees beside the rogue's lifeless body. She was breathing heavily, and her arm was bleeding. I rushed to her side, "Are you okay?" I asked. Her wound was looking scary.

"I'll be fine," she replied, grimacing as she tore a strip of fabric from her shirt and wrapped it around her arm. "It's not deep. We need to keep moving."

I helped her to her feet, and we carried on, both soaking, bruised, and drained. But we didn’t stop. We couldn’t stop.

Hours later, the forest cleared, and we found ourselves on the outskirts of a new pack's territory. Relief raced through me, but it was brief.

Within moments, wolves made their way toward us, snarling and baring their teeth. Are we looking like rogues??

Lyra growled back, ready to defend us, but before we could lift a finger, something sharp jabbed into my side. A wave of dizziness rushed over me, and my vision became blurry. I fell to the ground.

The last thing I heard before the darkness consumed me was, "Take them to the dungeon. Wait for the Alpha's orders."

I had escaped Ironhowl, but now I feared I had only changed one cage for another.