Chapter 2 Exodus

The forest doesn't care that my feet are bleeding.

Snow crunches under my boots, the cold gnawing through my threadbare cloak. I've walked all night, guided only by the pale eye of the moon. My breath fogs the air, each gasp sharper than the last. The pup kicks, a tiny drumbeat against my ribs. *Alive. We're still alive.*

I don't let myself think about the pack. About *him*. If I do, the weight of it will crack my ribs.

A branch snaps behind me.

I freeze, ears straining. The woods hold their breath. Nothing but the sigh of wind through pines. Shivering, I trudge onward, clutching the dagger I stole from the armory. It's dull, but it's all I have.

By midday, the snow turns to sleet. Ice clings to my lashes, blurring the world. My stomach growls, empty since yesterday's half-rotten squirrel. I press a hand to my belly. "Soon," I lie.

The pup kicks again, harder.

A howl slices through the silence.

Not a pack call-this is ragged, hungry. *Rogues*.

I break into a run, boots sliding on frozen mud. My lungs burn. Another howl answers, closer. They've caught my scent.

*Idiot.* I should've masked my trail. But exhaustion makes you stupid.

The trees thin ahead, revealing a rocky ravine. No shelter. No escape. I whirl, dagger raised, as three wolves slink from the shadows. Their coats are matted, ribs jutting like blades. Starvation glitters in their yellow eyes.

The largest bares its fangs, drool dripping. Rogue Alphas. Worse than loners-they hunt for sport.

"Stay back," I snarl, alpha command trembling in my throat. Weak, but it makes them pause.

The lead wolf shifts. A man with a gnarled beard and eyes like spoiled meat steps forward. "Pretty thing," he rasps. "Smells like fear. And... *pup*."

His companions laugh, circling me.

I tighten my grip on the dagger. "I'll cut your throat before you touch me."

He feints left. I slash, nicking his arm. He hisses, then backhands me. I crash into a tree, the impact rattling my teeth. The dagger skids away.

"Feisty," he croons, pinning me with a clawed hand to my throat. "Let's see how loud you scream when I-"

A guttural snarl erupts behind him.

A massive gray wolf lunges from the undergrowth, tearing out the rogue's throat. Blood sprays my face. The other rogues yelp, fleeing into the woods.

The gray wolf turns to me.

I scramble back, clutching my stomach. "Please..."

It shifts. A woman, mid-forties, with stormcloud eyes and scars laddering her arms. She spits rogue blood into the snow. "You're lucky I hate rapists more than I hate stragglers."

I stare, trembling. Her scent is wild-thunder and wet earth. No pack.

She eyes my stomach. "How far along?"

"Five months."

"Hmph." She tosses me a canteen. "Drink. The pup's dehydrated."

The water is bitter, laced with herbs. My vision swims. "What did you-?"

"Sleep draft," she says as darkness swallows me. "Can't have you slowing me down."

***

I wake to firelight.

The woman crouches by a crackling hearth carved into a cave wall. Venison sizzles on a spit. My mouth waters.

"Eat," she orders, thrusting a skewer at me. "The pup needs meat."

I devour it, grease dripping down my chin. She watches, sharpening a bone knife. "Name's Thora. You?"

"Lyra."

"Running from a pack?"

I hesitate. "Yes."

"Mate dead?"

The meat turns to ash in my mouth. "Something like that."

She snorts. "Men."

The fire pops. Outside, the wind wails. Thora tosses me a fur. "Sleep. We move at dawn."

"We?"

"You think I'd waste good venison on a corpse?" She stabs her knife into the dirt. "I'm heading north. You'll trail behind. Fall too far, I leave you. Understood?"

I nod, heart pounding. She's ruthless. But alive.

The pup stirs, a soft flutter. I press my hand to the spot. *See?* I tell them silently. *We're not alone.*

Thora douses the fire. In the dark, her voice is a low growl. "One rule: You don't slow me down. Second rule: You don't ask about my past."

"Third rule?"

"There isn't one."

I curl into the fur, listening to the storm rage. For the first time since the bonfire, I feel warmth.

It doesn't last.

***

Dawn brings blood.

We're crossing a frozen river when the ice cracks. Thora leaps clear. I'm slower, belly throwing off my balance. The ice splinters, plunging me into black water.

The cold is a knife to the heart. I thrash, boots scraping for purchase. The current drags me under. *The pup-*

A hand fists my collar, hauling me onto the bank. Thora slaps my face, hard. "Breathe, idiot!"

I vomit river water, sobbing. "I c-can't do this."

"You can." She drags me upright. "Because if you die, I'll gut your pup myself for wasting my time."

Her cruelty sparks a ember in my chest. *Survive. Prove her wrong.*

We walk.

My clothes freeze into armor. Thora doesn't speak. Doesn't look back.

When the sun bleeds out behind the mountains, I collapse.

"Get up," Thora snaps.

My limbs won't obey. The world tilts. "Just... a minute..."

She grabs my arm, fingers bruising. "They're coming."

A howl answers-closer than before. The rogues found us.

Thora shoves me behind a boulder. "Stay. Silent."

Four wolves charge into the clearing. Thora shifts, meeting them mid-leap. Bones crunch. Blood soaks the snow.

A fifth wolf circles behind her.

"Thora!" I scream.

She whirls, but too slow. Fangs sink into her hind leg. She roars, tearing the wolf's throat out.

The last rogue lunges at *me*.

I grab a fallen branch, swinging wildly. It cracks against his skull. He stumbles. I slam it again. And again. Until his whimpers stop.

Silence.

Thora limps over, human again, leg gashed to the bone. She eyes the dead rogue, then me. "Not useless after all."

I drop the branch, hands shaking. "Are you... okay?"

"I'll live." She rips her sleeve, bandaging the wound. "You?"

I touch my stomach. A gentle kick answers. "We're okay."

Thora nods, almost smiling. "North?"

"North."

The stars watch as we vanish into the trees, two shadows clinging to the same shred of light.