CHAPTER FOUR
907 Words
Ilyra’s P.O.V.
The omega quarters smelled like old stone, damp wool, and resignation.
I had lived here most of my life, yet tonight it felt unfamiliar, too small, too exposed, as though the walls themselves had turned against me.
A single oil lamp burned on the narrow table, its flame trembling every time the wind slipped through the cracked window.
I moved quietly, though there was no one here to disturb.
Most omegas had learned to disappear when I was dragged back after the rejection, doors had shut softly, eyes had averted and silence had swallowed me whole.
I folded my spare dress with shaking hands and tucked it into my worn satchel. The fabric still smelled faintly of lye soap and ash, invisible work. The kind no one ever thanked you for.
My injured hand throbbed as I tied the satchel shut. I hissed softly, pressing it against my chest until the pain ebbed enough to breathe through it.
“This is it,” I whispered to myself.
My wolf stirred weakly at the sound of my voice, lifting her head just enough to remind me she was still there. She didn’t whine anymore, she didn’t cry, she had learned the same lesson I had.
I pulled my cloak over my shoulders and paused, something felt wrong. The air was heavy, not loud or aggressive just heavy.
I glanced toward the door, then the window but nothing moved. No scent spiked and no footfalls sounded.
Still, the fine hairs along my arms prickled, I felt as though someone was watching me.
The thought slid into my mind uninvited, unwelcomed, I l swallowed and forced myself to breathe evenly. Paranoia. Rejected omegas didn’t get watched, they got ignored or worse.
I tightened my grip on the satchel strap and extinguished the lamp.
The quarters sank into darkness, I slipped out just before dawn, when the night was thinnest and the guards most lax.
The corridors of the pack house were quiet, echoing faintly beneath my soft steps. I kept to the edges, my hood low, my scent carefully dampened with ash and water like I’d learned long ago.
Still, whispers followed me.
“She’s leaving.”
“About time.”
“Rejected omegas don’t last long outside.”
A group of unmated males leaned near the armory as I passed. Their laughter dropped into silence, replaced by something thicker, hungrier. One of them inhaled sharply, his gaze tracking me far too openly.
“No Alpha,” another murmured. “No protection.”
My stomach twisted.
I didn’t look at them. Looking invited attention, attention invited cruelty.
I quickened my pace, every instinct urged me to run, but I forced myself to walk. Yet the feeling returned, stronger now.
I turned abruptly, my heart hammering but there was nothing.
Only empty corridors and flickering torches.
I exhaled shakily and pressed on, slipping through the outer gates just as the sky began to pale with false dawn. The forest loomed ahead, dark and dense, its branches clawing at the sky.
I couldn’t tell which yet.
As soon as my boots hit the dirt path, the pack’s scents shifted. Territory thinned, the air grew colder, sharper. My wolf lifted her head, alert for the first time since the rejection.
'We’re leaving,' I told her silently and she didn’t protest.
Behind me, Nightfall Sovereign Pack loomed like a sleeping beast, silent, vast, unforgiving.
I only felt the echo of it, a distant ache in my chest that made me stumble.
I pressed my hand over my heart, teeth gritting. “It’s nothing,” I muttered. “Just ghosts.”
The forest swallowed me quickly.
The moonlight barely penetrated the canopy of trees, leaving the path ahead uncertain and shifting. Every snap of a twig made my breath hitch, every rustle sent my pulse racing.
Still, I walked, because stopping meant thinking and thinking meant remembering the way Ragnar’s voice had sounded when he rejected me, flat, final anc merciless.
'I reject you.' I clenched my jaw until it hurt at the memory.
“I won’t break,” I whispered into the dark. “You don’t get to take everything.”
The sensation of being watched never left as I walked, sometimes it felt close, just beyond the trees and other times it faded entirely, only to return stronger moments later.
Once, I could have sworn I heard a footstep fall in perfect sync with mine.
I spun around, breath sharp. “Who’s there?”
Silence answered.
My wolf bristled uneasily. Not fear, something else, anticipation and waiting.
The deeper I went, the heavier the air became. My skin tingled, as if the world itself was holding its breath, somewhere far behind me, something ancient stirred.
All I knew was that the path ahead split suddenly, one trail narrow and dark, the other wider but steeped in a scent that made my wolf recoil.
I hesitated.
A branch snapped behind me.
My heart slammed against my ribs as I turned, instincts screaming. Shadows shifted between the trees, too large to be animals, too deliberate to be wind.
I took a step back and then another step.
“Stay calm,” I whispered, though my voice trembled. “Just keep moving.”
The shadows moved too and for the first time since I left the pack, I understood something with terrifying clarity, I had not escaped.
I had only stepped into the hunt.
- Writer
