6
Dravina POV
I carried everything I could manage and slipped out of the house, each step a raw reminder of last night’s punishment. My body throbbed with pain, every muscle tight with bruised defiance, but I forced myself to walk naturally. I couldn’t afford to limp not today.
I silently begged the fates to keep me from crossing paths with anyone.
The pack crawled with loyalists watchdogs devoted to Cassian, always watching, always listening. One wrong glance, one wavering step, and it would all come undone. Years of silent planning would collapse in seconds.
I reached the packhouse door when a scent hit me like a wall familiar, unmistakable.
Andariel.
My stomach turned. Of all the people, it had to be her.
Andariel wasn’t malicious, but that didn’t make her trustworthy. Not when her loyalty still leaned toward Cassian, or worse, toward someone who might turn me in to save their own skin.
I forced my breath into an even rhythm, steadying my pulse. If I bolted, she’d know. If I faltered, she’d question. I had to be calm.
“Dravina!” she called, her voice carrying more concern than I was ready to believe.
I turned slowly, forcing neutrality into my expression. A smile would only raise suspicion what did I have to smile about?
Everyone in the pack must have heard Cassian’s fury echoing through the halls last night. His rage had never been subtle, and neither were the bruises.
“I’m surprised you’re up,” she said, stopping a few feet away. Her eyes flicked over me, reading too much with too little effort.
“Andariel,” I murmured, exhaling heavily as I met her gaze.
She bowed her head slightly, the ingrained hierarchy of our world guiding her movements. Even after all his cruelty, Cassian demanded respect for me as Luna a twisted show of possession more than protection.
“There’s no need for that,” I said quietly. “Cassian isn’t here.”
She straightened a bit, but the cautious look in her eyes remained.
“How are you holding up?” she asked, her voice softer, lined with something close to pity.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. My silence said everything.
Her lips pressed together, then parted again. “Honestly? When I heard you were going to be Luna, I was jealous. Thought you’d won the dream. But now… I just feel sorry for you. He’s not right in the head.”
She wasn’t wrong.
Cassian might’ve fooled others with his charm, but behind closed doors, there was no fairy tale just scars. Just fear. Just the echo of who I used to be.
I nodded faintly, afraid that if I spoke, I’d unravel.
Her eyes dropped to the bag in my hand.
“Market trip?” she asked casually, too casually. Her gaze sharpened. “Seems like a lot to carry just for groceries.”
I stiffened, gripping the strap instinctively.
My wolf stayed quiet, holding herself back so I could keep control. But the tremor in my breath, the flutter in my chest it gave me away.
Andariel’s eyes narrowed, watching me too closely now. Suspicion hung in the silence between us.
My mouth opened, reaching for a lie, but no words came. Just a shallow gasp I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath.
And then it happened I saw it.
Recognition dawned in her expression.
Tears welled in my eyes before I could stop them, hot and fast, blurring my vision. I’d failed. Again.
She stepped closer, and I braced for betrayal. But instead of raising an alarm, her voice slid into my mind through the pack link, quiet and firm.
“You better get going now if you want a decent head start. I’ll tell anyone who asks that you went to the market. Just… make sure he doesn’t catch you this time.”
Relief hit me like a crashing wave.
I exhaled sharply, my voice breaking with emotion. “Thank you,” I whispered.
Andariel gave a single, hard nod. “Go. Now.”
I searched her face one last time for doubt or deceit, but all I found was resolve.
“Thank you,” I sent through the link again, pouring everything I felt into those two small words.
She turned without another word, and I wiped my tears away, straightening my back. My legs moved before my brain could fully process it out the packhouse door, down the path, into the world that didn’t yet know I was running.
The compound buzzed with life. People passed me, caught up in their routines. No one looked twice. It was perfect.
My pace remained steady, unhurried. Every step deliberate.
I reached the edge of the woods, and the breath I’d been holding finally escaped.
Surrounded by trees, shadows, and wild air, I felt something I hadn’t in years: possibility.
I dropped to the forest floor, yanked off my dress, folded it quickly, and shoved it into my bag. The cold air grazed my skin. I welcomed it.
Then I surrendered.
The shift rippled through me muscle stretching, bone snapping, my body reshaping into something stronger, faster.
Relief surged through every fiber of my being as I gave in to Blue, my wolf. The bruises faded into the background, replaced by power.
Grabbing the bag in my teeth, I launched forward.
My paws struck the earth in rapid rhythm, lungs full of pine and wind and something dangerously close to hope. Branches blurred past. The forest opened to me like an invitation.
With each bound, I whispered silent prayers whether to the Moon, fate, or something beyond I didn’t care.
Let me be free. Let me stay free. Give me the strength to never return.
I didn’t know where the road would take me. I didn’t need to.
All that mattered was that I was running and for the first time in years, I wasn’t looking back.
Not this time.






























