Chapter 2 The Price of Survival

Cold didn't just wake Aira.

It dragged her back.

It seeped into her bones, locked her muscles, and bit into her skin like invisible teeth. Her fingers twitched weakly against damp earth, numb and unresponsive, as if they no longer belonged to her.

For a moment, her mind was blank.

Then-

Pain.

Sharp. Relentless. Blazing through her ankle.

Aira gasped, the sound tearing from her throat as memory slammed into her all at once.

The horn.

The crowd.

Rovan's voice.

You are hereby rejected...

Her stomach twisted violently as she forced herself upright, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts. Her body protested immediately, exhaustion clinging to her like a second skin.

But stopping wasn't an option.

Not anymore.

The forest was still.

Too still.

Morning light filtered weakly through the trees, thin silver beams cutting through the shadows. Dew soaked into her torn dress, clinging to her skin, making her shiver uncontrollably.

Aira's gaze darted around, sharp and searching.

Nothing.

No guards.

No wolves.

No sound but the quiet rustle of leaves overhead.

Her chest tightened.

They hadn't followed her into daylight.

Or worse...

They didn't need to.

She swallowed hard and pushed herself to her feet.

The moment her weight touched her ankle, pain exploded upward, stealing the breath from her lungs.

A strangled cry escaped before she could stop it.

"No..." she whispered, gripping the rough bark of a fallen log to steady herself. "No, no, no..."

Her leg trembled violently beneath her.

Useless.

If she couldn't walk-

If she couldn't run-

She was already dead.

Aira squeezed her eyes shut, forcing air into her lungs, forcing the panic down before it could consume her.

"I can do this," she murmured, though her voice shook.

She had to.

Slowly, carefully, she bent down and tore a strip from the hem of her dress. Her fingers fumbled as she wrapped the fabric tightly around her ankle, biting back a hiss as pressure sent another wave of pain shooting through her leg.

Tighter.

It had to hold.

It had to be enough.

When she finally straightened, her hands were shaking but her resolve wasn't.

One step.

Pain.

Another.

Worse.

But she kept moving.

Because behind her lay death.

And ahead...

At least there was a chance.

The deeper she went into the forest, the more unfamiliar it became.

The trees grew thicker. The air heavier. Even the ground felt different beneath her feet untouched, unmarked.

Good.

That meant no patrol paths.

No easy tracking.

But it also meant she had no idea where she was going.

Her breathing grew shallow as exhaustion settled deeper into her bones. Every step felt heavier than the last, her body slowly giving in to the strain.

Her stomach twisted suddenly.

Not from hunger.

From fear.

Aira's hand moved instinctively, pressing gently against her abdomen.

A silent promise.

I'm still here.

She had known for days.

Felt it in the quiet moments. The subtle change in her body. The strange, undeniable certainty.

And she had said nothing.

Because in the Lower Pack, pregnancy wasn't a blessing.

It was control.

Monitored. Registered. Owned.

She had waited.

Waited for Rovan.

For her mate.

For the man who was supposed to protect her.

A broken laugh slipped from her lips.

"Stupid..." she whispered to herself.

How had she believed even for a second that he would choose her?

By the time the sun climbed higher, her strength was nearly gone.

Her ankle throbbed mercilessly, each step sending sharp jolts of pain through her body. Her vision blurred at the edges, the world tilting dangerously as she pushed through thick undergrowth.

Then-

She stumbled into a clearing.

And collapsed.

Her knees hit the ground hard, the impact sending a shock through her already weakened body. She barely felt it.

All she could focus on was breathing.

In.

Out.

In-

Her body froze.

Smoke.

The scent hit her suddenly, sharp and unmistakable.

Not wild.

Not natural.

Controlled.

Human.

Aira's head snapped up, her heart beginning to race again this time for a different reason.

Slowly, carefully, she crawled forward, ignoring the protest in her limbs as she peered through the trees.

There.

A small hut.

Crooked. Worn. But standing.

Smoke curled lazily from a stone chimney, drifting into the open air.

Someone was here.

Hope flared.

Danger followed immediately after.

Help could mean safety.

Or it could mean being dragged back.

Her instincts screamed at her to turn away.

To disappear deeper into the forest where no one could find her.

But then-

A distant echo.

A howl.

Faint.

But real.

Too real.

Aira's heart dropped.

They were still searching.

She didn't have a choice.

Swallowing her fear, she forced herself to stand and limped toward the hut, every step filled with hesitation.

By the time she reached the door, her hand hovered uncertainly in the air.

Knock...

Or run?

The door creaked open before she could decide.

Aira froze.

An old woman stood in the doorway, her back slightly bent with age but her eyes...

Sharp.

Too sharp.

They swept over Aira in a single glance, taking in everything the torn dress, the dirt, the injury, the fear.

Nothing escaped her.

"You're running," the woman said simply.

Aira's throat tightened. "Please..." Her voice came out hoarse, barely steady. "I won't stay long."

For a moment, the woman said nothing.

Just watched her.

Measured her.

Judged her.

Then, without a word, she stepped aside.

"You won't survive another day like this."

Relief hit Aira so suddenly her knees nearly gave out.

She didn't argue.

Didn't hesitate.

She stepped inside.

Warmth wrapped around her instantly.

The hut smelled of herbs and smoke, the air thick but comforting. It was... safe. Or at least, safer than outside.

The woman guided her to a wooden chair, firm but not unkind.

Then she knelt.

No questions.

No permission.

Her hands moved with quiet efficiency as she unwrapped the makeshift bandage around Aira's ankle.

"Wolves?" she asked.

Aira nodded.

"Rejected?"

Another nod.

The woman's mouth tightened slightly. "Cruel law."

That was all she said.

But it was enough.

As the woman worked, applying a thick herbal paste that burned before soothing, something inside Aira finally gave way.

Tears slipped down her cheeks.

Silent.

Unstoppable.

"I won't give him up," she whispered, her voice breaking.

The woman paused.

"Give who up?"

Aira's hand moved instinctively to her stomach.

"My child."

The room seemed to still.

The woman followed the gesture slowly, her sharp eyes softening just slightly.

"Then you'll need more than luck," she said quietly.

She stood, moving to a small pot over the fire before returning with a bowl of warm broth. She pressed it into Aira's trembling hands.

"Eat."

Aira didn't argue.

She drank.

The warmth spread through her body, fragile but real.

"Then what?" she asked weakly.

The woman's gaze shifted toward the small window.

Toward the forest.

Dark.

Watching.

Waiting.

"When you're done," the woman said, her voice lowering, "you'll listen."

Aira's grip tightened around the bowl.

"Listen to what?"

The woman looked back at her.

And for the first time-

There was something dangerous in her eyes.

"On how to disappear," she said.

Aira's breath caught.

But the woman wasn't finished.

"Because if they find you again..." she added quietly, "they won't come as wolves."

A chill slid down Aira's spine.

"Next time," the woman said, her voice almost a whisper-

"They'll send something worse."