Claimed By Fire And Crown

Chapter 2

The cold hit me the second I stepped outside.

It wasn’t sharp enough to bite, but it clung to my skin, settling into the thin fabric of my shirt as the door clicked shut behind me. I paused for half a second on the back step, my hand still hovering near the handle, listening for any sound from inside. Nothing followed. No footsteps. No voices. Just that same heavy quiet sitting over the house like nothing had changed.

Like I hadn’t just heard my life get traded away.

My fingers curled into my palm before I turned and stepped off the porch, moving quickly across the yard. The grass was damp under my feet, cold against my skin as I cut toward the tree line instead of the main path. Instinct. If they came looking, they’d expect me to run straight for the road. I wasn’t going to make it easy.

Branches scraped lightly against my arms as I pushed through the edge of the woods, ducking under a low limb without slowing. The familiar path wound between the trees, narrow and uneven, roots breaking through the ground in places where I’d tripped more times than I could count growing up. My breathing came faster now, not from the run, but from the way everything inside me still felt off-balance, like I hadn’t caught up to what had just happened.

Tomorrow.

The word echoed, sharp and final.

I exhaled hard, shaking my head as I kept moving, stepping over a fallen branch and picking up speed. Thinking about it wasn’t going to help. I didn’t have time to stand there and break it down, to figure out what it meant or why he’d agreed. The only thing that mattered was that I wasn’t going to be here when that man showed up.

A twig snapped somewhere behind me.

I stopped.

Not completely—just enough that my pace slowed, my body shifting as I listened. The woods had their own rhythm at night. Small sounds, movement, wind through the leaves. This was different. Too deliberate. Too close to the path I’d just taken.

My head turned slightly, eyes scanning through the trees, but the darkness between them didn’t give anything away. My pulse kicked up, steady and heavy, as I held still for another second.

Nothing.

I moved again, faster this time.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was everything. Either way, standing still wasn’t an option. My steps grew quieter as I adjusted my footing, placing each one more carefully as the path dipped and curved. The farther I got from the house, the more the trees thinned, the air shifting as the scent of the pack grounds faded behind me.

Good.

Let them lose me.

I reached the edge of the woods and slowed, crouching slightly as I looked out over the open stretch of land beyond. The road cut through it a few hundred yards ahead, a dark line against the pale ground, leading toward the outskirts where the smaller settlements and neutral territories started. Places no one from the pack bothered with unless they had a reason.

I didn’t have a plan.

Just distance.

I straightened and crossed the open space at a steady pace, forcing myself not to run. Running made noise. Running drew attention. My arms stayed close to my sides, my shoulders tight as I reached the road and turned without hesitation, heading away from the territory.

The farther I walked, the more the air changed.

The clean, familiar scent of pine and earth gave way to something heavier—smoke, oil, faint traces of alcohol drifting through the night. Lights appeared ahead, scattered at first, then closer together as buildings came into view. Low, worn-down structures lined the road, their windows glowing dimly, the sounds of voices and music bleeding out into the open.

I slowed without meaning to.

This wasn’t my world.

It never had been.

My gaze moved over the buildings, taking in the peeling paint, the flickering signs, the way people moved in and out of doorways without looking twice at who might be watching. No pack structure. No hierarchy I could read at a glance. Just… people.

And danger.

Different from the kind I knew, but just as real.

A group passed on the opposite side of the street, their laughter too loud, their steps uneven. One of them glanced in my direction, eyes lingering for a second longer than I liked before he said something under his breath to the others. I dropped my gaze and kept walking, my pace steady, not fast enough to look like I was running, not slow enough to invite attention.

I needed somewhere to stay.

Somewhere they wouldn’t think to look.

My eyes landed on a building a little farther down the road, its sign half-lit, the glow from inside spilling out through the open doorway. The low hum of voices drifted out, mixed with the clink of glasses and the dull thud of music. A bar. Not the kind of place anyone from the pack would step into unless they had a reason.

Perfect.

I hesitated at the edge of the street, my fingers flexing at my sides as I watched someone push through the door and disappear inside. My stomach tightened, a brief flicker of doubt cutting through the urgency that had been driving me forward.

I didn’t belong there.

Then again, I didn’t belong anywhere else either.

I exhaled slowly and crossed the street, stepping up to the entrance before I could change my mind. The door was heavier than I expected, the wood worn smooth around the handle as I pushed it open and stepped inside.

Heat wrapped around me immediately.

The shift from cold air to the warmth inside made my skin prickle as the noise hit next—voices layered over each other, low music in the background, the sharp scent of alcohol mixing with something darker underneath. I paused just inside the doorway, my hand still on the door as it swung shut behind me, taking a second to adjust.

No one looked up.

That was the first thing I noticed.

No sudden silence. No heads turning. Just people talking, drinking, moving through the space like I wasn’t there. My shoulders eased a fraction as I stepped further inside, my gaze moving across the room.

Tables filled most of the space, scattered unevenly, some crowded with people, others half-empty. A long bar ran along the left side, lined with stools, bottles stacked behind it in rows that caught the dim light. The floor was worn, scuffed from years of use, and the air carried a weight to it that settled low in my lungs.

I moved toward an empty table near the wall, keeping my head down just enough not to draw attention as I slipped into the chair. The wood creaked faintly under my weight, and I rested my hands against the edge of the table, grounding myself as I let out a slow breath.

No one looked up.

Conversations carried on around me, glasses clinking, voices low and steady like I wasn’t there.

Safe.

For now.

The thought barely settled before something shifted.

It wasn’t a sound. Not exactly. More like a change in the air, subtle but immediate, enough that my body reacted before my mind caught up. My spine straightened slightly, my fingers tightening against the table as a strange, unfamiliar awareness slid through me.

Like something had just noticed me.

I frowned, my gaze lifting slowly as I glanced around the room. Nothing looked different. No one was staring. No one had moved in a way that stood out. Conversations continued, glasses clinked, someone laughed too loudly near the bar.

But the feeling didn’t go away.

It lingered.

Sharp. Focused.

My breath slowed, my attention narrowing as I scanned the room again, more carefully this time. My pulse picked up, not with panic, but something else—something I couldn’t quite place, sitting just under the surface.

Then—

It hit.

A scent.

Not like anything I’d ever noticed before. Not wolf. Not human. Something warmer. Richer. It slipped through the air like heat, subtle at first, then stronger the more I focused on it, curling low in my chest in a way that made my breath catch.

I stilled.

Every instinct I had told me to leave.

Instead, I stayed exactly where I was, my fingers tightening slightly against the table as my gaze shifted again, slower this time, searching.

Somewhere in this room—

Something had just found me.

And for the first time since I left the house…

I wasn’t sure which was more dangerous.