THE LEGACY OF STRONG WOMAN

CHAPTER TWO

Into the Wolf’s Den

The forest was alive with the sounds of the night—crickets humming, the distant howl of wolves, and the rustling of leaves beneath hurried footsteps. Seraphina struggled to keep up with Ronan Blackwood’s long strides, her breath heavy in the cold night air.

"Where are we going?" With barely a whisper in her voice, she finally asked. Ronan didn't back down. "Somewhere safe. Keep moving."

"Safe from who?" While looking over her shoulder, she pressed. "The king’s men? Or something more sinister?" At that, Ronan stopped and turned to her. His sharp eyes were fixed on hers. "Both. The king will send his best trackers after you. The rogues will get to you first if they don't." Seraphina took a big inhale. "Rogues?"

"Not all werewolves follow a pack," Ronan muttered. "Some are outcasts. Hunters. They can smell weakness like blood in the water. And right now, you reek of it."

Seraphina’s hands clenched into fists. "I am not weak."

A flicker of something—amusement, maybe—passed through Ronan’s gaze. "Then prove it. Keep up. They walked for what felt like hours before reaching the entrance of a hidden cave. It was well hidden because the thick vines covered its mouth. Ronan pushed them aside and motioned for her to enter.

"Inside."

Seraphina paused. "What is this place?"

"A temporary place to stay. We rest here for the night. At dawn, we move again."

As soon as she entered, the damp walls of the cave embraced her. The exhaustion from the night’s events weighed on her shoulders, but she wasn’t ready to sleep. Not yet.

Ronan started a small fire, his movements precise, practiced. The flickering flames cast shadows on the stone walls as Seraphina sat next to him. "You knew my mother," she said, watching him closely. "Did she send you to find me?"

Ronan’s jaw tightened. "I owed her a debt. I'm repaying it with this." "What kind of debt?"

His eyes darkened. "One that cost her everything."

Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Seraphina wanted to go on and ask for clarification, but Ronan's expression told her not to. Instead, she looked down at her trembling hands.

"I don’t know what I’m supposed to do," she admitted softly. "I don’t even know what I am."

Ronan leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "You are the last Lunar Bloodline member. Whether you accept it or not, that means something. The king wants you dead because he fears what you might become."

Seraphina lifted her gaze to his. "And what is that?"

Ronan’s lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "A king." She felt something far more perilous than fear in her body as she heard his words. Hope.