Chapter 4
855 Words
The Blackwood Forest was not a place of peace; it was a place of hunger. Every rustle of the leaves felt like a threat, and every snap of a twig sounded like a bone breaking. I moved through the undergrowth, my breath hitching in my chest. The "Shadow Magic" that had saved me at the gate was receding now, leaving me hollowed out and shivering.
Power, I realized, came with a price. My muscles ached as if I had run a marathon, and the spot where the mate-bond had snapped felt like a literal hole in my torso.
I reached a small clearing where the moonlight hit the moss in silver patches. I couldn't go much further. My vision was blurring, the edges of the world fraying into gray. I leaned against the rough bark of an ancient willow tree, sliding down until my bruised knees hit the dirt.
I am free, I told myself, trying to find comfort in the thought. I am free from Silas. I am free from the scrubbing brushes and the insults.
But freedom felt a lot like dying when you were an Omega alone in a forest filled with monsters.
A low, guttural snarl vibrated through the air.
My heart plummeted. I didn't move. I didn't even breathe. Slowly, I turned my head toward the sound. Two glowing eyes, amber and feral, stared back at me from the darkness of the ferns. It wasn't a pack wolf. The scent was wrong, sour, unwashed, and thick with desperation.
A Rogue.
Rogues were wolves who had been kicked out of their packs or had lost their minds to the moon-madness. They were scavengers, driven by nothing but hunger. And to a Rogue, a lone Omega was the easiest meal in the woods.
The wolf stepped into the moonlight. He was massive, his fur matted with dried mud and blood. He bared his yellow teeth, a string of saliva dripping to the forest floor. He didn't see a girl; he saw a snack.
Shadows, I pleaded, reaching deep into my soul. Wake up. Please.
But the darkness stayed silent. I had used too much energy at the palace. I was empty.
The Rogue lunged.
I pulled my arms over my head, bracing for the feel of teeth on my throat. I waited for the end, for the final darkness to claim the girl the King didn't want.
THWACK.
The sound of a heavy impact echoed through the clearing. A pained yelp followed, but it wasn't mine.
I peeked through my fingers. The Rogue was pinned to a tree, a massive black arrow vibrating in its shoulder. The wolf struggled for a second before a tall figure stepped out from the shadows of the willow trees.
He wasn't a wolf. Or at least, he didn't smell like one. He smelled of ozone, cold iron, and old parchment. He was dressed in dark leather armor, a heavy crossbow slung over his shoulder and a hood covering his face.
"A bit far from the palace, aren't you, little bird?" the stranger asked. His voice was like grinding stones, deep and rough.
He stepped closer, and I saw the glint of a silver dagger at his waist. My instinct was to run, but my body refused to move. He reached out with a gloved hand, tilting my chin up just as Silas had done hours before. But this man’s touch didn't spark the mate-bond. It felt... steady.
"You should be dead," he remarked, his eyes, a piercing, unnatural grey scanning the blackened mark on my neck where the bond had snapped. "No Omega survives a Royal Rejection. The heart usually gives out within the hour."
"I'm... not just an Omega," I managed to whisper, my voice cracking.
The stranger paused. He looked at my hands, where faint traces of black ink-like mist still clung to my fingernails. His eyes widened slightly. He stepped back, making a strange gesture with his hand, a sign of protection.
"A Shadow Walker," he breathed. "I thought your kind were all ghosts and bedtime stories used to scare Alpha cubs."
"Who are you?" I asked, my strength finally failing as the world tilted.
The man caught me before my head hit the roots of the tree. He lifted me easily, as if I weighed nothing at all.
"My name is Ryker," he said, his voice softening just a fraction. "And if you want to stay alive long enough to make that King regret his breath, you’re going to have to come with me. The Silver-Moon trackers are already on your scent, and Silas Vane doesn't like leaving loose ends."
As he carried me deeper into the Forbidden Forest, away from the only home I had ever known, I didn't feel afraid. For the first time in my life, I felt like the story was finally mine to write.
"Ryker," I murmured, my eyes closing. "Tell him... tell him I'm coming for the crown."
The stranger let out a short, dark laugh. "Oh, little bird. We're going to do much more than take his crown. We're going to burn his kingdom down."
- Writer
