The stranger's words echoed in Elara's mind long after he disappeared—a storm that hasn't fully arrived.
She hadn't slept after that. How could she? Every snap of a twig, every whisper of wind through the leaves set her pulse racing. She'd pressed her back against the gnarled oak trunk, dagger clutched in white-knuckled hands, watching the darkness for those mismatched eyes.
Gold and silver. Like sun and moon trapped in a single soul.
By the time dawn crept over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of rose and amber, Elara's exhaustion had deepened into something bone-heavy. Her body ached in ways that had nothing to do with sleeping on hard ground. The child within her seemed restless too, shifting and turning as if sensing her mother's unease.
"Shh," she murmured, placing a hand over the small swell of her belly. "We're safe. For now."
But were they?
The question gnawed at her as she packed her meager belongings. She couldn't stay here—not after being seen. If he'd found her so easily, others could too. And unlike the mysterious wolf with his cryptic warnings, they wouldn't be so... merciful.
She pushed the thought aside and started walking.
The forest grew denser as morning wore on. Thick roots snaked across the narrow path, threatening to trip her with every step. Moss clung to ancient stones like forgotten memories, and somewhere in the canopy above, birds sang songs she didn't recognize. This was not Moonstone territory. Not even close.
She was truly alone now.
The realization should have terrified her. Instead, it brought a strange sort of relief. No pack politics. No whispered accusations. No eyes watching her every move, judging, condemning. Out here, she was just Elara—not the disgraced Luna-to-be, not the betrayer, not the fool who'd lost everything.
Just a woman trying to survive.
Her stomach growled, sharp and insistent. When was the last time she'd eaten? Yesterday morning? The day before? Time had blurred into a haze of walking and hiding and willing herself not to break completely.
The crystal locket at her throat felt suddenly heavy. She pulled it out, letting it catch the filtered sunlight. Inside were two tiny portraits—her mother on one side, her father on the other. Both gone now. Both taken by the fever that had swept through the pack five winters ago.
What would you think of me now? she wondered. Would you be ashamed? Or would you understand?
The locket offered no answers.
A stream appeared through the trees, its water crystal-clear and inviting. Elara knelt beside it, cupping her hands to drink. The cold water was a blessing, washing away some of the grit and exhaustion. She splashed her face, her neck, letting the chill wake her up.
That's when she saw it.
A reflection that wasn't hers.
Elara spun around, dagger already in hand—but there was no one behind her. Just trees and shadows and the endless whisper of leaves.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. "I know you're there."
Silence.
Then, from somewhere to her left: "Do you?"
The voice. The same one from last night.
She turned again, and there he was—leaning against a birch tree as if he'd been there all along. In the daylight, she could see him more clearly. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that fell just past his collar. His face was all sharp angles and hard lines, weathered by something more than just time. A scar cut through his left eyebrow, giving him a perpetually skeptical look.
But it was his eyes that held her captive. Gold and silver, watching her with an intensity that made her feel stripped bare.
"Why are you following me?" she demanded, trying to sound braver than she felt.
He pushed off the tree, moving with a predator's grace. "I'm not following you."
"Then why do you keep appearing?"
"Maybe you keep appearing in my path." A hint of amusement flickered across his face. "Ever consider that?"
Elara's grip on the dagger tightened. "I don't have time for games."
"Neither do I." The amusement faded, replaced by something harder. "Which is why I'm going to tell you something, and you're going to listen."
She waited, every muscle tense.
He took a step closer. "Three days ago, bounty hunters came through the eastern territories. They're looking for a she-wolf—young, dark-haired, traveling alone. Pregnant." His gaze dropped briefly to her belly, then back to her face. "They're offering quite a reward."
The words hit her like a physical blow. Calix. It had to be. He'd sent hunters after her.
"How much?" Her voice came out smaller than she intended.
"Enough to make every rogue and mercenary in a hundred-mile radius interested." He crossed his arms. "You have powerful enemies, little storm."
"Don't call me that."
"What should I call you then?"
She hesitated. Names had power. But so did lies, and she was tired of both. "Elara."
He nodded slowly, as if committing it to memory. "Elara." The way he said it, soft and deliberate, sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. "I'm Kael."
"And what do you want, Kael? Your share of the reward?"
Something flashed in those mismatched eyes—offense, maybe, or something darker. "If I wanted the reward, you'd already be in chains." He stepped closer still, close enough that she could smell pine and rain on him, close enough to see the flecks of amber in his golden eye. "I want to know why a pack wolf is running alone through neutral territory with death at her heels and a child in her belly."
"That's none of your concern."
"It is when your hunters start disturbing my peace."
"Your peace?" Elara let out a bitter laugh. "You said you don't belong anywhere."
"Doesn't mean I want company."
They stared at each other, locked in a battle of wills. Elara's instincts screamed at her to run, but her legs felt rooted to the ground. There was something about him—something familiar in a way that defied logic.
Finally, Kael sighed. "Look, I'm not your enemy. But I'm not your savior either. I'm just telling you that if you keep heading west, you're going to run straight into them. The hunters. They've set up camp near the Silver Ridge."
West. She'd been heading west because... because she'd had no other direction. No plan. No destination.
"Where should I go then?" The question escaped before she could stop it.
Kael studied her for a long moment. "North. Through the Whispering Pines. It's harder terrain, but fewer wolves travel that way. You might have a chance."
"Might?"
He shrugged. "Better than the alternative."
Elara wanted to argue, to insist she didn't need his help or his advice. But the truth was, she was lost. Completely, utterly lost. And if what he said about the bounty was true...
"Why are you helping me?" she asked quietly.
For the first time, his expression softened—just barely, just enough to make him look almost human. "Let's just say I know what it's like to run from something you can't escape."
Before she could respond, he turned and started walking north, into the deeper shadows of the forest.
"Wait—" Elara called out.
He paused but didn't look back. "The Pines are two days from here. There's an abandoned shepherd's cottage at the northern edge. It's not much, but it's shelter." Finally, he glanced over his shoulder, those impossible eyes finding hers. "After that, you're on your own."
And then he was gone, melting into the trees like smoke.
Elara stood frozen beside the stream, her mind racing. Every instinct told her not to trust him. He was a stranger. A lone wolf. Possibly dangerous.
But he'd also warned her. Helped her. Asked for nothing in return.
The child kicked, a gentle flutter against her palm.
"What do you think?" she whispered. "Do we trust him?"
The only answer was the rustling of leaves and the distant cry of a hawk.
With a deep breath, Elara adjusted her travel sack, checked the position of the sun, and started walking north.
Toward the Whispering Pines.