CHAPTER THREE- RESCUED.
Snow landed on my shoulders, sharp as blades.
I curled up in the snow, heart pounding like a wild animal slamming against my ribs. My body wouldn’t move. My fingers dug into the frozen ground as my breath lodged in my throat.
A shadow approached—slow, deliberate. A cloak hung low, hood hiding the face beneath. I didn’t have the strength to lift my head and see who it was. One thought drifted through my mind:
If that shadow snaps my neck right here, right now… no one in this world would shed a single tear for me.
“Who…” The word slipped out, broken and useless.
No answer. The figure simply stood before me.
Even the sound of falling snow seemed to stop. Only my heartbeat remained, loud enough to shake the silence. Fear crawled slowly up my spine. I forced my eyes open. A glint of silver flashed beneath the hood—but I still couldn’t see his face.
Days earlier, I had crossed into Silverfang territory and sensed the world change around me.
Sunlight vanished. Grass was replaced by snarled roots. A cold, silvery haze swallowed the forest. The trees stood packed so tightly together it felt like they might crush me.
Blood seeped from my heel—a small reminder that I was still alive… though I doubted I would be for long.
Kieran’s voice coiled through my mind like smoke.
“I reject this bond.”
In that moment, I felt the entire world discard me. His face was cold stone, his voice a winter wind that hurled me into a frozen abyss. His rejection struck like an arrow to the heart.
A part of me wanted to beg—beg him to show even an ounce of mercy, beg him to let me stay for the sake of the past. But every day since, dragging my half-broken body through this merciless forest, made one truth burn clearer:
He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t regret it. He was nothing but a coward who betrayed what we were.
On the third night, I found a shallow cave. Vines and roots blocked most of the wind. I curled up inside, hugging myself.
The wolf within me hadn’t stirred since Kieran’s rejection. She was silent—almost disgusted with me. In every half-sleep, I heard her whisper:
“You weren’t good enough. You should have fought. You should have begged.”
By the sixth night, I finally collapsed on the path. Snow drifted down like ashes, covering everything in pale stillness.
I wanted it to cover me, too.
I couldn’t cry anymore. I could only ask myself, “Is this it? Is this how I die?”
If death wants me… now is the time.
“If you’re going to take me,” I whispered, “then do it.”
Silence pressed against my chest.
And then… footsteps.
I blinked awake to flickering firelight, unsteady and weak, as if it might die out at any moment. Shadows wavered across stone walls. Cold crept across my skin beneath a thin blanket. I tried to move—and something tugged tightly at my ankle.
I looked down. Clean bandages. A strip of cloth I didn’t recognize. My gown was gone. In its place, I wore rough wool trousers and an oversized linen tunic that scratched against my neck.
I blinked slowly. The ache behind my eyes throbbed in time with my heartbeat.
This wasn’t the forest.
A small hearth crackled in the corner, casting fragile warmth. Animal pelts were spread beneath me, coarse against my palms. A wooden bowl rested near the fire—its steam long faded.
Water.
I reached for it with trembling hands. The bowl wobbled as I lifted it to my lips. Cold water bit my tongue.
I swallowed hard. My pulse quickened.
Someone saved me.
But… why?
The door creaked open. I flinched.
A hunched old woman stepped inside, wrapped in layers of faded fabric. Her movements were slow yet precise, her limp steady as she crossed the floor. Grey hair was coiled at her nape, and her eyes—sharp, icy—scanned me like she could read every secret I had ever kept.
“You’re awake.” Her voice was dry, practical—not unkind. She set something down beside me. “Good.”
I forced myself to sit up, clamping a hand to my ribs. Pain flared, burning through my chest like fire catching in my veins.
“Where… where am I?” My voice rasped. It barely sounded like mine.
She didn’t answer right away. She lit a candle by the fire, its flame painting deep lines across her face. Only then did she turn to me.
“Far from where you came from,” she said. “Closer to where you’re going.”
“That means nothing,” I muttered, throat raw.
She shrugged. “It will. In time.”
I narrowed my eyes, suspicion tightening my chest. “Who… are you?”
