Chapter 2 Into the Wild

The cold air bit at Vaela's skin as she crossed the Duskwind Pack's border. Each step carried her further away from the only home she had ever known. Her heart pounded, but she didn't stop. She wouldn't.

I will never forgive him.

The words echoed in her mind, burning like a flame that refused to go out. Draven had thrown her away. After everything they had shared-every promise, every touch-he had shattered her heart without a second thought.

A sharp wind swept through the trees, tugging at her black cloak as the forest grew darker around her. The towering pines cast long shadows beneath the fading light. Somewhere behind her, the Duskwind wolves were still celebrating, laughing and drinking while her world crumbled to nothing.

She clenched her fists and pushed forward. They wouldn't miss her. Not Draven. Not the pack. And if they didn't care about her-why should she care about them?

A branch snapped beneath her boots, but she barely heard it. Her mind churned, twisting over questions she couldn't answer.

Why had Draven changed? Was it really as simple as falling for Lyria Blackwood? Or was there something deeper-something she hadn't seen?

Does it even matter anymore?

No. It didn't. He had made his choice. And she was done waiting for him to love her.

Hours passed as Vaela moved deeper into the wild. The farther she traveled, the more the forest changed. The tall, straight pines near the pack's border gave way to twisted, ancient trees with gnarled roots that snaked through the earth like claws. Thick mist curled low across the ground, making every step feel heavier.

The silence was unnerving. No birds sang. No leaves rustled. It was as if the entire forest held its breath.

A shiver crawled up her spine, but she shook it off. Fear was a weakness. And she had already shown enough weakness for a lifetime.

Still, something about these woods felt... wrong.

Vaela adjusted the leather pack slung over her shoulder, her fingers brushing the hilt of the silver dagger she carried. Her mother's dagger. The only piece of family she had left.

I'm not afraid, she told herself. But even as she thought the words, her pulse quickened.

A distant howl split the silence. Low and eerie, it wasn't a Duskwind wolf's call. This sound was different-colder. A chill swept through her blood as the sound faded into the mist.

She pressed forward, refusing to let fear take hold. No one's coming to save me. I'm on my own now.

By nightfall, she reached a small clearing tucked between jagged cliffs. Exhaustion gnawed at her bones, but she wouldn't rest. Not yet. She needed to put as much distance as possible between herself and the pack.

The wind shifted, and with it came a scent-sharp, metallic, wrong.

Blood.

Vaela froze, every muscle tensing. The wind carried the scent from somewhere nearby. Someone was hurt-or worse.

Her instincts screamed to turn back, but she stepped toward the smell, her hand tightening around her dagger's hilt. Whatever lay ahead, she wouldn't run. Not anymore.

The scent grew stronger as she moved through the mist. At the edge of the clearing, beneath the gnarled roots of an ancient tree, she found the source.

A man.

He lay crumpled on the ground, blood soaking through the torn fabric of his dark shirt. His black hair hung over his face, hiding his features. But even unconscious, there was something dangerous about him.

Vaela crouched beside him, her heart pounding. Whoever he was, he wasn't from her pack-his scent was unfamiliar. And yet, there was something... off.

"Still breathing," she muttered under her breath, pressing two fingers to his neck. His pulse was faint but steady.

What had happened to him? And why was he alone?

A groan escaped his lips, low and pained. His body tensed as if he were fighting something-something inside him.

Vaela hesitated. She had no reason to help him. But she couldn't just leave him to die.

"Lucky for you, I'm not as heartless as some wolves," she murmured, sheathing her dagger.

With effort, she dragged his heavy frame toward the base of the tree. His body was warm beneath her touch-too warm. Feverish. Whatever had happened to him, it wasn't just an injury.

She grabbed her canteen and poured cool water onto a strip of cloth, pressing it to his forehead. He flinched but didn't wake.

Who are you? she wondered. And why did it feel like this meeting wasn't an accident?

Hours passed before he stirred. Vaela had built a small fire to keep the chill at bay, the orange flames casting flickering shadows across the clearing. The man's breathing grew steadier, though his body still burned with fever. His face, pale beneath the dirt and blood, was sharp-edged and strong.

She sat cross-legged nearby, watching him carefully while sharpening her dagger against a smooth stone. The rhythmic scrape of metal against stone was the only sound beyond the distant whisper of the wind.

Her mind spun with questions. Who was he? Why was he bleeding out in the middle of the wild?

And why did something about him feel wrong?

A low groan pulled her from her thoughts. His body tensed before his eyes blinked open-a striking shade of emerald green. They flashed with confusion first, then sharpened into cold, quick awareness.

His gaze locked onto her. Wild. Defensive. Dangerous.

"You're awake," Vaela said, keeping her voice calm and her grip on her dagger firm.

He tried to sit up, but his body trembled with the effort. His hand darted toward his waist-searching for a weapon he no longer had.

"I wouldn't," she warned, lifting her blade just enough for him to see. "You're in no shape to fight me."

His jaw clenched, but he eased back against the tree, his breathing uneven. "Who are you?" His voice was rough, edged with both suspicion and pain.

"I could ask you the same thing," she said. "You're the one bleeding out in the middle of nowhere."

His lips curled into something between a smirk and a grimace. "Lucky me."

Vaela narrowed her eyes. "I could've left you there."

"Why didn't you?"

For a moment, she didn't answer. Why hadn't she? He wasn't her problem. But maybe, deep down, she knew what it felt like to be left behind-to be thrown away like you didn't matter.

"I guess I was feeling generous," she said finally.

The stranger let out a slow breath, but his gaze never softened. "I don't need your pity."

"Good," she said, rising to her feet. "Because I'm all out of it."

The fire crackled softly between them as the silence stretched. She could feel his eyes on her, weighing her every move. He was weak now-but the strength in his frame, the sharpness in his gaze, told her one thing.

He wasn't a man to underestimate.

"You still haven't told me your name," Vaela said.

He leaned his head back against the tree, exhaustion flickering across his face. For a long moment, she thought he might not answer. But then-

"Kael."

The name hung heavy in the air. No title. No pack. Just Kael.

"Well, Kael," she said, "who tried to kill you?"

A bitter smile tugged at his lips. "I've made a lot of enemies."

"That's not an answer."

He exhaled softly, his gaze sliding to the fire. "No, it's not."

Vaela felt frustration twist in her chest, but she pushed it down. Let him keep his secrets. She had enough of her own.

Still, something about him didn't add up. His injuries were too deep-too precise-to be the work of a rogue or a wild beast. Someone wanted him dead.

And whatever had happened, she had a feeling this man was far more dangerous than he let on.

Vaela crouched beside her pack, pulling out the last of her dried meat and offering it to him. "Eat," she said.

Kael hesitated, studying her with the same cautious intensity he had shown since waking. Finally, he took the strip of meat, biting into it without a word.

"You're welcome," she muttered.

A flicker of amusement crossed his face. "You always this friendly?"

"I'm not in the mood for friendly."

"Lucky me-again."

She rolled her eyes but didn't respond. The truth was, sarcasm was easier to hold onto than the ache still burning in her chest. Anything was easier than thinking about him.

Draven.

The memory cut through her like a blade. His cold words. His refusal to even meet her eyes. The way he had chosen Lyria Blackwood without hesitation.

The man she had loved-the man she would've given everything for-was gone.

And she would never forgive him for it.

Kael's voice pulled her back. "What's your story, then?"

Vaela stiffened. "I don't owe you answers."

His green eyes glinted in the firelight. "Fair enough. But I doubt you're out here because life's been kind."

She looked away, biting back the words she wanted to say. He was right-but it wasn't his business.

"I'm leaving my pack," she said simply. "That's all you need to know."

Something flickered across Kael's face. "You don't strike me as the kind who runs away."

The words struck deeper than they should have. Vaela lifted her chin. "I'm not running. I'm moving forward."

A shadow passed over his expression-quick, but not quick enough for her to miss. He recognized the difference.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The fire crackled softly between them, and somewhere in the distance, the mournful call of a wolf echoed through the trees.

"You're injured," Vaela said at last. "And you won't last long out here alone."

Kael's jaw tightened, pride flashing in his eyes. "I'll manage."

"You'll die," she said bluntly. "And after dragging your unconscious body across a clearing, I'd rather not waste my effort."

His gaze lingered on her face, as if weighing her words. Finally, he let out a breath. "What are you suggesting?"

Vaela hesitated only a second before answering. "Come with me. At least until you're strong enough to stop bleeding all over the forest floor."

His brows lifted slightly. "You want me to follow you?"

"I'm offering you a chance to survive," she said coolly. "Take it or leave it."

The silence stretched again, heavy and charged. Then-

"Fine," Kael said. "I'll come with you. But if you try to kill me in my sleep-"

"You wouldn't be the first to worry," Vaela interrupted dryly. "Trust me, I've got better things to do."

A low chuckle escaped his lips, surprising her. It softened some of the harsh edges of his face, making him seem almost... human.

Almost.

They moved before dawn, leaving the clearing behind as mist curled low across the ground. Vaela led the way, silent and focused, while Kael walked a few steps behind-slower, but steadier than she expected for a man who had nearly died hours earlier.

"You're healing faster than you should be," she said after a while, her voice quiet but firm. "What are you?"

Kael didn't answer immediately. "A survivor."

It wasn't a real answer, and they both knew it. But Vaela didn't push. Not yet.

As they walked deeper into the woods, an uneasy feeling crept through her bones. The air felt heavier, colder, as if something unseen moved between the trees.

Kael felt it too-she could see it in the way his body tensed, his hand drifting toward the blade at his waist.

"You sense that?" Vaela murmured.

His jaw clenched. "I do."

Something was watching them.

And whatever it was, it wasn't human.

A sound-low and distant-rose through the trees. Not a wolf. Not any animal Vaela recognized.

Kael moved closer, his voice a low warning. "We're not alone."

Vaela nodded, her fingers brushing the hilt of her mother's dagger. Whatever lay ahead, she wouldn't be caught unprepared.

And deep in the shadows, something waited.

The eerie sound faded into the distance, but the tension in the air didn't lift. It clung to Vaela's skin, thick and heavy, as if the forest itself were holding its breath. Whatever was watching them-it hadn't left.

Kael stayed close, his steps almost soundless against the moss-covered earth. For a man who had been bleeding out hours ago, he moved with surprising ease. That wasn't normal. Not for any wolf.

"You're sure you don't want to tell me what you are?" Vaela asked quietly, her hand never leaving her dagger.

Kael gave a faint smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You wouldn't believe me if I did."

"Try me."

His gaze swept over her-cool, assessing-but he said nothing.

Vaela huffed a breath through her nose, pushing her frustration down. Fine. Keep your secrets. I have my own.

The wind shifted, and that strange, metallic scent crept back-sharp and unnatural. It wasn't just blood. It was... wrong.

Kael noticed it too. His body tensed, his shoulders tight with alertness. "It's getting closer."

Vaela's stomach twisted. Whatever had left him half-dead was still out there. And it wasn't finished.

"We need to move faster," she said, walking faster. "I'm not dying in these woods, and neither are you."

"Agreed," Kael muttered, matching her pace despite the stiffness in his movements.

The mist thickened as they climbed a narrow incline. The pale light of dawn barely pierced the heavy canopy, leaving everything in murky shadow. The deeper they went, the stranger the forest became-twisted branches curled like claws, and patches of dead earth stretched along the path.

Vaela had traveled these woods before. They had never felt like this.

"We're not in Duskwind territory anymore," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kael's mouth pressed into a thin line. "Good. Your pack doesn't seem to like you much."

Her chest tightened at his words, but she didn't let the pain show. "I don't belong to them anymore," she said coldly.

And she never would again.

A faint growl rolled through the air. It didn't sound like any wolf Vaela had ever heard-it was lower, rougher, and filled with something... unnatural.

Kael's head snapped toward the sound, his body shifting subtly into a defensive stance.

"That's not a wolf," he said quietly.

"No," Vaela agreed, drawing her dagger. "It's something worse."

The growl came again, closer this time. Shapes shifted in the mist, too far to make out clearly. But there were eyes-glowing faintly like dying embers.

Kael swore under his breath. "Shadowbeasts."

Vaela's heart thudded against her ribs. Shadowbeasts-creatures born from corrupted magic. She had only heard stories. Wolves whispered that they were remnants of a curse long forgotten-things that hunted the weak and the lost.

"What do they want?" she asked, though her instincts already knew the answer.

Kael's grip tightened around his blade. "Us."

The first shadowbeast emerged from the mist. Its form twisted and unnatural-half-wolf, half-nightmare. Black tendrils of smoke leaked from its mouth as it crept closer, its claws sinking into the earth.

It shouldn't exist. But it did.

And it was hungry.

Vaela didn't wait. With a sharp breath, she lunged forward, her dagger flashing in the dim light. The silver blade caught the creature's shoulder, and it shrieked-a horrible, broken sound that made her blood turn cold.

Kael moved beside her, swift and deadly. Despite his injuries, he cut through the mist like a shadow himself, his sword slicing cleanly through the beast's neck. It collapsed in a heap, black smoke curling from its broken form.

"Keep moving," he ordered, his voice low but urgent.

More of them came. Their eyes burned like embers, and their growls echoed through the forest. For every beast they cut down, two more took its place.

Vaela's muscles burned as she fought, but there was no time for pain. She twisted, ducking beneath a clawed swipe, and drove her dagger deep into the next creature's chest. It fell with a hollow hiss-but another lunged from the side, its jaws snapping toward her throat.

Kael was there before it struck. His sword cut through the beast with ruthless precision, sending it crumpling to the ground. Blood smeared his hands, but he didn't slow.

"They're not stopping," Vaela gasped, cutting down another. "Why aren't they stopping?"

"They're tracking us," Kael said grimly. "Or maybe-" He hesitated. "Maybe they're tracking me."

Her heart slammed harder. "Why would they track you?"

He didn't answer. Not now.

A beast lunged from the shadows, faster than the rest. Vaela reacted on instinct, raising her dagger-but this one was different. Stronger. Before she could strike, it knocked her to the ground, its weight crushing her ribs.

The beast's jaws snapped inches from her face, the stench of rot and smoke burning her lungs. She struggled beneath it, her blade slipping from her fingers.

A sharp curse echoed through the air-then Kael's sword pierced the beast's skull, sending it crumpling against her. He pulled her to her feet without a word.

"You good?" His voice was rough, breathless.

Vaela nodded, though her heart still hammered. "I've had worse."

The mist swirled thicker around them. Too thick. Something was coming.

"We can't fight them all," Kael said, glancing toward the distant ridge. "We need to get out of this valley."

She didn't argue. Together, they ran.

The beasts gave chase, their growls rolling through the mist. Vaela's legs burned with the effort, her breaths coming hard and fast. Don't stop. Don't look back.

A sharp incline loomed ahead-a steep, jagged rise through the rocks. Without hesitation, she scrambled upward, dirt and loose stone sliding beneath her boots. Kael followed close behind, his sword still in hand.

When they reached the top, she risked a glance back. The shadowbeasts lingered at the bottom of the ridge-but they didn't follow. Their ember-like eyes burned through the fog, but something held them back.

"They won't cross," Kael said, his voice tight. "Why?"

"I don't know," Vaela murmured. But something inside her-a cold, sharp instinct-did.

There was power here. Old power. And for now, it held the darkness at bay.

Kael exhaled, the tension easing from his body. "We're safe. For now."

Vaela didn't feel safe. Not when the shadows still watched from below. Not when questions clawed at her mind.

Who was Kael?

Why were these creatures hunting him?

And why did she feel like this was only the beginning?

The wind shifted, carrying a faint whisper through the trees-low and cold, barely more than a breath.

"It isn't over."

Vaela's blood chilled. She didn't know what lay ahead. But she knew one thing for certain.

The shadows weren't finished with them yet.