Chapter 4 4

The two glowing spots in the dark didn't blink. They stayed fixed on Elena, shining with a cold, dangerous intent. The low, threatening growl came again, closer this time, seeming to vibrate not just in the air but in the ground under her feet. This wasn't just a normal forest animal surprised by her. This was a hunter, and she was its target.

Fear, cold and sharp, cut through the last bit of sadness and embarrassment. Her survival instincts, sharpened by living in a world where danger could be just outside the pack's scent markers, screamed at her. Her heart slammed against her ribs, but this time it was pure terror making it beat so fast. The rejection, the pain, the broken dreams – all of it faded for a moment, overshadowed by the immediate danger just a few feet away in the thick shadows.

Move, Elena, move! The logical part of her brain yelled, even though her feet felt like lead, stuck to the damp ground.

She forced herself to take a shaky step back, her eyes never leaving the two glowing spots. "Who's there?" she repeated, trying to sound brave even though her voice trembled. "Identify yourself. You're on Silver Moon territory."

A harsh, grating laugh answered her, with no humor in it at all. Then she heard the heavy sound of paws on dry leaves, and then, stepping slowly into a patch of weak moonlight, the thing that had been growling showed itself.

It was a wolf, but nothing like the ones in her pack. This creature was huge, bigger than even Fenric, but skinny, its grey fur matted and scarred, clinging to its bony ribs. One ear was torn, and a long, jagged scar ran down its snout, pulling its lip into a permanent snarl. Its eyes, the source of the cold glow, were a pale, chilling yellow, burning with a wild hunger and a deep-seated meanness that made Elena's blood run cold. This wasn't a pack wolf following rules. This was a rogue. Wild, unpredictable, and probably desperate.

And he wasn't alone.

From the shadows beside the first wolf, two more came out, slightly smaller but just as scary, their bodies low and ready to attack. They spread out a little, moving together, blocking any easy way back to the settlement. Three rogues. Against one alone, heartbroken delta. The odds were impossible.

Panic threatened to take over, to send her spiraling into helpless fear. But then, something else sparked inside her – a bit of the anger that had been growing under her sadness. Anger at Fenric for putting her in this situation, for throwing her out and leaving her vulnerable. Anger at these intruders for daring to threaten her when she was already feeling her worst. Anger at how unfair it all was.

That bit of anger didn't make her strong physically, but it cleared her head a little. She couldn't fight them. She couldn't outrun all three of them for long. She needed to think.

The lead rogue took another slow step forward, its yellow eyes fixed on her throat. "Silver Moon territory," it growled, its voice rough like rocks grinding together. "Not for you, little scrap. Not anymore."

Elena's breath caught. How did they know? Had they been watching the feast? Had they somehow sensed the rejection, the cutting of her pack ties? Rogues often hung around pack borders, scavenging, looking for weakness, but this felt like they were targeting her.

"Smelled your despair all the way from the ridge," the rogue continued, confirming her fear, its lips pulling back even more to show stained, yellow teeth. "Smelled the Alpha's rejection on you. Makes you easy pickings. No pack to protect you now."

Another wave of pain washed over her at those words, sharp and bitter. Fenric's rejection wasn't just emotional devastation; it was like a death sentence whispered on the wind, an invitation to predators like these.

"What do you want?" Elena asked, forcing her voice to stay steady, buying herself precious seconds, looking at the trees behind her, searching for any way to escape, any place to defend herself.

The lead rogue let out another harsh laugh. "What do we want? Everything you have left. Your fear. Your life." He lowered his head a little, muscles bunching in his strong shoulders, getting ready to pounce. The other two did the same, tensing, their growls getting louder.

There was no way out. The trees behind her were too thick, offering no clear path, just things that would slow her down. They had her trapped against the thickest part of the woods.

Her wolf, quiet since the first cry of pain at the rejection, stirred inside her, not with joy or submission now, but with the fierce instinct of a trapped animal. Fight, it snarled silently. Fight or die.

In that split second, as the lead rogue got ready to spring, Elena reacted purely on instinct. She didn't try to run backward into the tangled bushes. Instead, she did the unexpected. She lunged forward, low and fast, aiming not for the big lead rogue, but for the smaller one on his left side.

The move clearly surprised them. They expected her to cower or run. Her sudden, desperate attack threw off their plan for a crucial moment. She slammed her shoulder into the side of the smaller rogue, using her momentum to knock it off balance. It yelped in surprise, stumbling sideways.

That tiny opening was all she needed. She didn't wait to see what happened. She spun around quickly and sprinted, not back towards the settlement – they'd expect that – but deeper into the Whispering Woods, running at an angle away from her attackers.

Angry snarls erupted behind her. Paws pounded on the forest floor as they chased her. Adrenaline rushed through her, giving her speed she didn't know she had. Branches whipped at her face and tore at her dress, thorns snagged her skin, but she barely felt it. The only thing that mattered was the sound of them chasing her, their heavy breathing, and the angry growls getting closer behind her.

She risked a quick look over her shoulder. They were catching up. The lead rogue, faster and stronger, was closing the distance quickly, its pale yellow eyes burning in the darkness. She pushed harder, her lungs screaming for air, her muscles burning with effort.

The ground sloped downwards sharply. She vaguely recognized this area – a ravine, known for being slippery and having thick bushes. It was dangerous, but it might be her only chance to lose them. Without hesitating, she plunged down the steep slope, half-running, half-sliding, loose rocks skittering under her feet.

She heard a triumphant snarl from above as the lead rogue reached the edge, briefly silhouetted against the faint moonlight. It jumped down after her, a dark shape hurtling through the air.

Elena hit the bottom of the ravine hard, stumbling, her ankle twisting painfully beneath her. She cried out, falling onto the damp, mossy ground. Scrambling, ignoring the shooting pain in her ankle, she looked up just in time to see the massive rogue landing heavily only a few feet away, its eyes locked onto hers, victory shining in them.

He stalked towards her slowly now, enjoying the moment, the other two appearing at the top of the ravine above, watching. There was nowhere left to run. She was trapped, hurt, at the mercy of a creature driven by meanness and hunger. He lowered his head, a low growl rumbling in his chest, saliva dripping from his bared teeth. This was it. She was going to end up alone and forgotten in the dark woods, a victim of a rejection she still couldn't understand.