The mountains did not welcome me.
By the second day, the air had thinned, each breath scraping my lungs raw. The trail I followed twisted sharply upward, skirting cliffs that dropped into mist-choked ravines. Cold seeped through my boots, through my cloak, and through my bones. The higher I climbed, the quieter the world became, as if even nature hesitated to acknowledge my presence.
I welcomed the silence.
It gave me space to think, though my thoughts were anything but calm. The dream clung to me, replaying in fragments. Silver light. Cracking earth. A voice that had spoken as if it had always known me.
You will decide what comes of it.
Choice sounded like freedom. It also sounded like responsibility.
By midday, clouds rolled in thick and low, swallowing the peaks. Snow began to fall in thin, drifting sheets. My fingers stiffened, numb despite the gloves I had scavenged from the settlement. Every step required focus now. One mistake could mean a long fall and a short end.
I sensed it before I saw it.
The shift in the air. The pressure is building behind my eyes.
I stopped, heart hammering, and scanned the path ahead. At first, there was nothing. Just rock and snow and fog.
Then the fog moved.
A shape emerged from it, tall and broad, blocking the narrow pass. Pale eyes glinted through the haze, fixed on me with predatory calm.
Rogue.
He did not bother hiding what he was. His wolf bled through his human form, claws partially extended, teeth too sharp when he grinned.
"Well," he drawled. "You're far from home, little one."
I backed up slowly, fingers curling into fists. "Move."
He laughed, the sound harsh. "You smell wrong. Strong. Like something worth taking."
My stomach twisted.
"I won't warn you again," I said, surprised by how steady my voice sounded.
His grin widened. "I like them feisty."
He lunged.
I reacted without thinking.
Heat exploded through my veins, white-hot and blinding. The world slowed, sharpened. I sidestepped with impossible speed, his claws slicing empty air where I had been a heartbeat before.
His eyes widened.
"What the hell—"
I thrust my palm forward.
The air between us rippled violently, like glass struck by a hammer. He flew backward, slamming into the rock wall with a sickening crack. Snow cascaded down as he collapsed, stunned but alive.
I stared at my hand, breath coming in ragged bursts.
I had done that.
The rogue groaned, struggling to rise.
Panic surged.
Run.
I did not wait to see if he could stand. I turned and bolted down the path, heart pounding, fear and adrenaline tangling painfully in my chest. The power still hummed beneath my skin, restless and volatile.
It had answered me.
I ran until my legs threatened to give out, until the mountains blurred into a haze of white and gray. Only when the ground leveled slightly did I slow, bracing myself against a boulder as nausea rolled through me.
My hands shook violently.
"That wasn't supposed to happen," I whispered.
Yet some part of me knew it was inevitable.
The closer I came to understanding myself, the less I could pretend I was weak.
The storm worsened as evening fell. Wind howled through the peaks, carrying snow in stinging gusts. I found shelter in a shallow cave just as darkness settled, dragging myself inside as exhaustion crashed over me.
I huddled against the stone, pulling my cloak tight. My body ached, every muscle screaming. Sleep crept in despite the fear coiled in my gut.
This time, the dream was different.
I stood before a pool of water so clear it looked like glass. My reflection stared back at me, but my eyes were wrong. Silver, glowing faintly. Power rolled off me in visible waves.
"Do you see her now?" a voice asked from behind me.
I turned.
A woman stood there, tall and serene, her hair white as frost, her eyes filled with stars. She radiated quiet authority.
"Moon Goddess," I breathed.
She smiled gently. "You always knew me, child. Even when you thought you were alone."
"Why me?" I asked, the question tearing out of me. "Why give me this power only to make me hunted?"
"Power is never given without cost," she said softly. "But neither is it given without purpose."
She stepped closer, touching my forehead with cool fingers. Light surged, flooding my mind with images. Wolves bowing. Bloodlines entwined. Bonds snapping and reforging.
"You carry the balance," she said. "White Wolf blood tempers dominance and awakens truth. That is why they fear you. That is why they will seek to claim you."
"I don't want to be claimed."
Her gaze sharpened. "Then do not be."
The pool rippled, the image fracturing.
"Your mates are bound by fate," she continued. "But fate does not command your heart. Remember that."
I opened my mouth to ask more, but the world dissolved.
I woke with a start, breath fogging in the cold air.
For a long moment, I lay still, listening to the storm rage outside. My body felt different. Heavier. Stronger.
Centered.
I rose slowly, testing my balance. The cave felt smaller now, as if my presence filled it in ways it had not before.
The Moon Goddess's words echoed in my mind.
Do not be.
I stepped outside as dawn crept across the peaks, the storm beginning to break. The mountains stretched before me, vast and unforgiving.
So was the path ahead.
Somewhere below, the rogue I had struck would tell his story. Somewhere farther still, packs would feel the shift, instincts stirring uneasily.
And somewhere beyond the ridges, bonds pulled tight, drawing wolves closer to the girl who refused to be owned.
I squared my shoulders and started forward.
For the first time, I did not feel like I was running.
I felt like I was walking toward myself.