Chapter 1 On the run

Lila POV

I ran as quickly as my legs would let me. I raced past the trees, and they blurred as I moved. The rain hit my skin, stinging it and making it turn red from the cold. My breathing is rough, but I cannot stop-I need to keep going.

My legs feel heavy, like they are made of lead, but I push them to move. In my arms, I hold the most important thing-my son, Milo.

He is wrapped in two blankets and a thick quilt. I know he is warm for now, safe from the rain, but it will not last.

The rain is coming down hard, and soon the blankets will get wet and cold, making my baby uncomfortable.

"I have to keep moving, just a little bit more," I whispered to myself, feeling tired but not stopping.

I ran deeper into the forest, using the trees as cover while I zigzagged. The rain helped hide my scent from them. Up ahead, I finally saw a large tree with roots that looked about three feet tall.

There was a hole in the tree, big enough to fit an adult. The problem was that it was high off the ground.

I hugged Milo tightly to my chest and glanced behind me. My clothes and hair were soaked, and I was shaking, breathing hard. I looked at my baby, kissed his forehead, and quickly adjusted the quilt around my shoulder and side to make a holder for him.

Once I was sure he was safe, I started to climb the tree. It was very hard because of the rain and my constant shaking. My hands got splinters, but I kept going. After climbing a few more branches, I finally reached the hole.

Carefully, I placed Milo inside and then pulled myself in. I took one last look behind me before settling inside the tree.

My body is still shaking, but the inside of the tree is dry and warm, which is a big help for both me and my baby. I looked at Milo, but suddenly froze when I heard footsteps pounding nearby.

My heart raced, and I tried to control my breathing. I could hear their howls and the sound of them sniffing around. It felt like hours before they finally left. I let out a long breath and closed my eyes.

"I did it. I escaped," I whispered, still in shock.

After all these years, I was finally free.

"My name is Lila Stone," I murmured, "and for the past ten years, I've been a prisoner of the New Moon Pack-a cruel pack with no kindness."

I used to have a great life full of love, happiness, and friends. My dad, Randolf Stone, was the Alpha of the Yosemite Pack in California. I was six, almost seven, when the New Moon Pack attacked us.

I remember my mom rushing into my pink princess-themed room, grabbing me from my bed, and running out of the house as fast as she could. The moment she opened the door, I saw something I will never forget. There were dead wolves everywhere, some in their human forms. I recognized many of them from my pack.

Men, women, and even children lay on the ground covered in blood, while screams filled the air, and the night sky glowed orange from the flames that were burning down the pack house. I wanted to scream, but my mother quickly hushed me.

That's when I saw my dad. He was fighting three wolves, and he looked so tired. One of the wolves jumped at him, biting his leg, while another went for his throat.

I watched my father get killed right in front of me. My mother cried and ran. I looked back at my dad one last time. He smiled at me as the life faded from his eyes.

By the time my mom and I reached the woods, he was gone. But we didn't make it far before they caught up with us.

The enemy surrounded us. I don't remember much after that, but I do remember being torn from my mother's arms. Her screams echoed in my ears as they dragged me away. Everything else was a blur.

I was taken to the New Moon Pack's territory and made into a slave. They hurt me in many ways, both in my mind and on my body. And when I turned sixteen, the Alpha, Lorenzo Martini, took away my innocence.

That was exactly one year ago. Today, I am seventeen, and my baby, Milo, is three months old.

A soft whimper from Milo pulled me out of my thoughts, and I looked down at him. Even though Milo was born from something horrible, and his father is a bad man, my son is not. He didn't choose to come into this world, but now that he's here, he's mine.

I gently unwrapped Milo from the quilt and looked at his sweet face. Thank goodness he looks more like me than like his father.

He has my mother's eyes-light honey-brown with a black ring around the edges. His skin is soft and light, and he has a head full of blackish-red curls, just like mine.

My eyes are dark brown like my father's, but Milo's eyes are big and innocent. He has small lips and a tiny, cute nose. He's my perfect baby.

I opened my blouse and brought Milo to my chest. He latched on quickly, drinking eagerly, which made me smile. But the smile faded as worry crept in.

"I need to find a home for us, Milo," I whispered. "We can't keep living like this, in the cold with no place to go." My voice shook as I spoke.

I knew I had to find somewhere safe for us to stay, food to eat, and maybe even a job. If I didn't eat, my body wouldn't make enough milk, and Milo would go hungry.

But finding work would be tough. I had been taken so young that I never had any real schooling. I can barely count, and, to be honest, I can't even read or write much more than my name.

"How will we survive? What kind of future can I give my son?" I thought to myself with a heavy heart.

While I was held captive, I got by with just symbols and pictures. It sounds silly, but it's the truth. I won't ever be able to find a real job. The only things I'm good at are cooking, cleaning, and drawing.

Yes, drawing. When I was eleven, I stole some paper and a pencil from the Beta's office and taught myself how to draw things that looked real. I snuck paper whenever I could for two years until they caught me.

But instead of punishing me, the Beta was impressed and made me draw more. I ended up drawing many things, mostly portraits of the Alpha. In fact, I was working on one the day he attacked me.

I let out a deep sigh as I thought about it all. I looked down at Milo, who was staring up at me while he fed. I ran my fingers through his soft curls.

"I promise you, baby, I will be the best mom I can be," I whispered with determination. "Things will get better, and soon, I'll be able to get you clothes and toys. Life will improve," I added, mostly to reassure myself.

I kissed his forehead softly and rocked him in my arms as he finished feeding. It's no longer just me now. I have my son, and I will make a life for the both of us. It won't be easy, but I will fight for him. I want my son to grow up without fear, and I will make sure that happens.