Chapter 4 AWAKENING

Awakening 4

Gwen ran. Dense forest blurred before her, tall trees devoured her with each step in shade. Thick air was dense with the smell of dampened soil, where the call of nightly creatures vibrated in cacophony across the dark, and she didn't quite sense any of it.

Her lungs were on fire, her legs screamed in agony, but she didn't. She couldn't. With every step, the weight of Logan's rejection pressed down on her like a thick fog, suffocating her. His cold, unfeeling voice echoed in her head, and his words cut her deeper than any blade ever would. "She is weak." "She is unfit." "I reject Gwen stark as my mate."

She stumbled, her knees slamming into the forest floor. A sharp cry escaped her lips as she clutched at her chest, gasping for breath. It still hurt; the severed bond, the emptiness where her connection to Logan had once been.

A piece of her had been ripped away, leaving nothing but a raw, gaping wound. And now, she was truly alone. Her pack had cast her out. Her mate had abandoned her. There was nothing left for her in Whiteclaw territory. Tears blurred her vision, but she made herself keep going. She didn't know where she was going; she only knew that she had to keep moving. Because if she stopped, the pain might finally consume her.

Hours passed, though it felt like an eternity. The woods darkened as the tall treetops began to block out the moonlight, and the air grew cold; Gwen huddled into her cloak. She had no food. No shelter. No allies. Her body ached with exhaustion, her wolf eerily silent, still reeling from the rejection. She felt shattered. But she refused to give up. It was only when she was far, far away from the people who had thrown her away like some garbage.

It was the crunch of leaves behind her that stopped her in her tracks. Gwen's breath hitched as she strained her ears, going rigid in a coiled muscle of tension. She wasn't alone. There was a rumble of growl low in the trees; a threatening, raw noise. Sharp, she twisted back, pulse hammering loudly in her ears. Glowing yellow eyes stared back out at her through the darkness. A renegade wolf. Panic welled up inside her.

Rogues were unpredictable, feral wolves who had lost all vestiges of their human side when they'd been cast out or abandoned by their packs. Some of them were desperate. Others... were murderers. And this one was not a solitary creature.

Other eyes began to shine in the darkness, as a pack of rogues stepped out into the underbrush. Thin bodies, matted fur, but the hunger in their eyes was unmistakable. Gwen retreated a step. She was weak from the rejection already. Attacking, she wouldn't stand a chance.

The largest of the rogues, a huge black wolf with a jagged scar across his snout, stepped forward.

"Fresh meat," he sneered, the voice grating in the night air. "You smell like a pack wolf... but you have no pack, do you?"

Gwen swallowed and made herself stand tall. She would not beg. She would not cower. Even if this was the end.

The rogue chuckled darkly. "You're not even going to fight back?" The other wolves circled her, their snarls growing louder. Each snarl felt like a lash against her already raw spirit, a reminder that she was no longer part of a pack, no longer protected by any law or loyalty.

Gwen clenched her fists, bracing herself. But before the rogues could strike..., Something inside her snapped. A sudden, surging tide of energy, unlike anything she had ever experienced, coursed through her veins. Raw. Uncontrollable. Powerful. A gust of wind exploded outward from her, sending the rogues stumbling backward with startled yelps. The ground beneath her shook, the trees around them swaying in violent motions, as if they, too, had felt the force of whatever had just been unleashed. Gwen gasped, her body trembling. What was that?

It was this that raised the black-furred rogue growling, his yellow eyes flashing. "What the hell are you?"

Gwen didn't know. She only knew something inside her had awoken.

The rogues demurred now, sensing the shift in power. Uncertain glances were exchanged, their instincts warning them that she was no ordinary exile. For one instant, pure terror stared back at her, and a strange thrill ran through her. For the very first time in her life, she was the one they were afraid of.

Then, with a sharp snarl, the leader motioned to retreat. One by one, they disappeared, glowing eyes taken by the night.

Gwen panted as the woods grew silent again. Her hands shook a little as she stared down at them. She had never felt such power. Not when she belonged with the Whiteclaw Pack. What was different now? And why... did she feel stronger than she had ever felt before? She didn't have the answers. But she knew one thing.

She wasn't that weak, cast-out omega they'd all seemed to believe her to be. There was something inside of her, growing and building. And for the first time in her life, she wasn't afraid. She was free. Reborn. And one day, she would make them all wish they had never abandoned her.

Gwen fell onto the earth, exhausted, a tidal wave of weariness washing over her, her body spent, her limbs weak-but her mind raced. She had tapped into something-something strong, something unknown. The image in her mind's eye flashed of the rogue's face, the pure, rank fear upon it when she'd unleashed that force. She'd never instilled fear within someone before. Was this an ability buried deep inside? Or was it something more?

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. For the first time, she wasn't so sure if she wanted to find out. But as the cold night settled around her, she knew she had no choice. She was alone. She had nowhere to go. If she wanted to survive, she had to understand what had just happened to her. Because something told her... This was only the beginning. And whatever she had awakened, it wasn't going away. Not now. Not ever.