THE RUNAWAY LUNA RIDER

Chapter2

THE RIDE INTO OBLIVION

Rhea's POV

The sun comes up slow and mean, burning orange across the horizon like the world's on fire. I've been riding for hours. My hands are numb on the handlebars, my thighs ache from gripping the bike, and my eyes feel like someone rubbed sand in them. But I don't stop.

I can't stop.

Every time I close my eyes, I see her. That woman, Monica. Her hand on her belly. Darius's hand on top of hers. The way he looked at her was like she was something precious.

The road stretches out in front of me, empty and gray. I passed the Goldblood territory markers miles back. Ten miles, or fifty. I lost count somewhere around the third hour of riding, when my tears dried up and left my face feeling tight and raw.

My wolf is quiet now. Too quiet. She's curled up somewhere deep inside me, wounded and confused. The bond with Darius pulls at my chest like a fishing hook, trying to reel me back. But I ignore it. I'll ignore it until it kills me if I have to.

The gas gauge needle drops lower. I should've paid attention to it earlier, but I was too busy running. Too busy trying to put distance between me and everything I thought I knew.

A sign appears on the side of the road, half-rusted and barely readable. "Eddie's Gas – 2 miles." It's something. I ease off the throttle slightly, letting the bike coast as I scan the area. Trees on both sides. No houses, or cars. Just the road, forest and silence.

When I finally spot the gas station, I almost miss it. It's set back from the road, hidden behind overgrown bushes and a busted fence. The building looks like it hasn't been used in years. Windows boarded up. Pumps old and rusted. But there's enough space to pull off and rest.

I killed the engine. The sudden silence is deafening.

My legs shake when I climb off the bike. I have to grab the seat to steady myself, and that's when it hits me. The nausea. It comes up fast and hard, giving me barely enough time to stumble away from the bike before I'm on my knees, throwing up into the dirt.

Nothing comes out but bile. I haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon. Was it yesterday? Time feels weird now, like it's moving too fast and too slow all at once.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and sit back on my heels, breathing hard. My whole body trembles. From exhaustion and shock. The fact that my entire life just fell apart in the space of ten minutes.

That's when I feel it again. That flutter. That tiny awareness deep in my belly that something's different. Something's there.

"No," I whisper to the empty air. "No, no, no."

But even as I say it, I know. My wolf knows too. She stirs slightly, and I feel her confusion mixing with my own. We're pregnant… I'm pregnant.

I press both hands to my stomach, feeling nothing but the flat plane of muscle under my shirt. But it's there… my little one. The timing makes sense. Three weeks ago. That night when Darius came to me smelling like whiskey and woodsmoke, he pulled me close and whispered promises against my skin. Forever, he said. You and me.

Lies. All of it.

I don't know how long I sit there in the dirt, hands on my stomach, trying to figure out what to do. The sun climbs higher. Sweat drips down my back. My throat is dry, my head pounds, and somewhere in the distance, I hear the rumble of engines.

Human engines. Not wolves.

I force myself to stand, to walk back to the bike. The keys are still in the ignition where I left them. Darius is probably losing his mind right now. Not over me, but over his precious bike. The thought makes me smile, just a little, even though it hurts.

I need to keep moving, find somewhere safe, and figure out what I'm going to do about the thing growing inside me.

The engines get louder. Three bikes appear on the road, slowing down as they spot me. The riders are human… I can tell by their scent even from here. Leather jackets. Scraped knuckles. Hard eyes that have seen too much.

The lead rider pulls up to the station entrance. He's older, and looks fifty, with gray in his beard and scars on his face. The other two flank him, younger but just as rough-looking.

"You lost?" the older one asks. His voice is gravel and cigarettes.

"No." I straightened up, trying to look less like someone who had just spent the night crying, riding and more like someone who can handle herself.

He looks at Darius's bike, then back at me. Something shifts in his expression. Respect, or maybe, curiosity.

"That's a nice ride," he says. "Custom work."

"It's mine." The lie comes easy.

"Sure it is." He doesn't believe me, but he doesn't push it either. "You're heading anywhere specific?"

I shake my head.

"We're going to Pinecrest. Little town about thirty miles away. Good place to lie low if you need it." He pauses, studying me. "You look like you need it."

I should say no. I should keep riding until I find somewhere far away from everyone and everything. But I'm tired. So tired. And this baby inside me needs more than gas station dirt and my stubborn pride.

"What's in Pinecrest?" I ask.

"Nothing much. Bar. Garage. People who mind their own business." He kicks his bike back to life. "Follow us if you want. Or don't. Your choice."

They pull back onto the road without waiting for my answer. I watch them go, three bikes disappearing around a bend, and then I look down at my stomach again.

"What do you think?" I whisper to the thing that's barely there yet. "Should we trust them?"

No answer. Of course not. But the bond with Darius pulls at me again, sharper this time, like he's trying to reach me through it. Like he's realized I'm gone and now he wants me back.

Too bad for him.

I climb back on the bike, start the engine, and follow the three riders.

***

Pinecrest looks exactly like the old man described. One main street. A bar with neon beer signs in the windows. A garage with rusted cars scattered around it like metal corpses. A few houses tucked back in the trees. The kind of place where nobody asks questions because they don't want theirs asked either.

The riders lead me to the garage. A woman comes out to meet us, wiping grease off her hands with a rag. She's built like she could wrestle a bear and win. Short gray hair. Tattoos up both arms.

"Found her at Eddie's station," the older rider says. "Figured she could use a place to crash."

The woman looks me over, then at the bike. "You know how to work on engines?"

"Yeah."

"You're running from something?"

"Isn't everyone?" I met her eyes, daring her to push further.

She doesn't. Instead, she nods toward a small building behind the garage. "The room's empty. You can stay there. Work pays for rent. We don't tolerate drama."

"I don't have any drama." Another lie. But what's one more at this point?

She shrugs. "We'll see."

The riders leave. The woman shows me the room… barely bigger than a closet, with a bed, a chair, and a window that doesn't close all the way. But it's mine. For now.

That night, I sat on the bed with my back against the wall and my hand on my stomach. The baby is so small still. Just a cluster of cells. But it's real. And it's mine.

I close my eyes, feeling the bond with Darius stretching thin across the miles. He's searching for me. I can feel it. But he won't find me here. Not in this human town where wolves are just stories people tell scaring their kids.

"You'll never know that world," I whisper to my belly. To the baby who can't hear me yet. "Not if I can help it. You'll never know him. Never know what he is. What we are."

My wolf stirs at that, uncertain. Sad. But I pushed her down again.

This baby will be human. I'll raise it human. And we'll never go back.

Outside, a bike engine roars to life somewhere down the street. Inside, I make a promise I don't know if I can keep.