Chapter 5 Run

Selene POV

"Matthias!"

Her mother's voice broke on his name in a way Selene had never heard before. Lady Elara never broke. Not at pack councils. Not at funerals. Not when the servants brought bad news or the harvests came up short.

She broke on his name and it was the most frightening sound in the room.

But her hands didn't stop moving. She pushed Selene and Isolde toward the far wall, toward the narrow door behind the tapestry that led to the servant corridors. Selene knew that door. She and Isolde had used it a hundred times to sneak between floors when they were supposed to be in bed.

She had never run through it.

"Mama." Selene dug her heels in. "We can't just leave him."

"I am not leaving him." Her mother grabbed her face in both hands. Her grip was strong enough to hurt a little. "I am getting you out. There is a difference. Do you understand me?"

"But what if he needs—"

"Selene." Her mother's eyes were very dark and very steady. "I need you to be brave right now. Not for yourself. For your sister. Can you do that?"

Selene looked at Isolde. Isolde was shaking. Her whole body, shaking.

"Yes," Selene said.

"Good girl." Her mother kissed her forehead. Then Isolde's. Fast and fierce. "Kitchen passage at the end of the corridor. You know where it comes out."

"The rose garden."

"Go there. Stay low. Stay together. Do not stop for anything."

"What about you?" Isolde's voice was so small.

Their mother smiled. It didn't reach her eyes but she made it anyway.

"I am going to help your father." She smoothed Isolde's hair back from her face one time. "I love you both more than anything in this world. More than this house. More than anything." She straightened up. "Now run."

She shifted before the word finished leaving her mouth.

The silver wolf that took her place was smaller than their father's form but fast, built for speed over power, and she was already moving before her paws hit the ground. She cleared a fallen table in one leap and disappeared back into the chaos of the great hall.

Gone.

"Come on." Selene grabbed Isolde's hand and pulled her through the tapestry door.

The corridor was dark compared to the hall. Torches only every ten feet and half of them knocked sideways already. Shapes moved in the shadows. Servants running. A footman Selene recognized pressed flat against the wall with his eyes squeezed shut.

A maid came around the corner ahead of them and stumbled. Selene knew her. Marta. She had worked in the manor since before Selene was born. She always smelled like bread and lavender and she used to sneak Isolde extra honey at breakfast.

She was pressing both hands against her stomach and the red between her fingers was spreading fast.

"Help," Marta whispered. "Please."

Selene stopped.

Isolde grabbed her arm with both hands. "We can't. Selene we can't, there's no time."

"But she's—"

"Mama said don't stop." Isolde's voice cracked. "Please. Please don't stop."

Marta slid down the wall slowly. Her eyes found Selene's and Selene held them for one second, two, and then Isolde pulled her forward and she made herself go.

She would think about that later. She would think about it for the rest of her life probably. But right now she ran.

The kitchens were still blazing from the feast preparation. The great ovens roared. Pots boiled over onto the floor, soup spreading in steaming puddles nobody was tending anymore. The room smelled like food and smoke and copper.

The soldier by the kitchen passage was young. That was the first thing Selene noticed. Not much older than Alaric. He had the Alpha King's crimson on his chest and a silver sword in his hand and he was smiling at them the way a wolf smiles at something smaller.

All teeth. No warmth.

"Well." He looked them over slowly. "Little pups running from the fire."

Selene stepped in front of Isolde without thinking about it.

"Let us through."

He laughed. Actually laughed. "Or what, little girl?"

"Let us through," she said again. Her voice only shook a little.

"I can't do that." He tilted his head. "The Alpha King wants the marked girl. We're under orders to bring her in or put her down." His eyes moved over Selene's face. Then Isolde's. "Can't tell which one of you it is from here. Easier to just handle both."

"Marked?" The word came out before she could stop it. "What does that mean? We're not marked."

"Not your call, sweetheart." He raised the blade. "The king says there's a prophecy. Says the marked girl is dangerous. My job is just to make sure she doesn't grow up to be."

Selene's wolf slammed against the inside of her chest. Desperate. Clawing. She was too young, the shift wouldn't come, she had nothing, she was ten years old with no claws and no fangs and a silver sword coming up in front of her face and—

Something hit the soldier from the side like a battering ram.

Dark brown fur. Lean body. Fast.

Alaric.

His wolf form took the soldier down hard, both of them crashing into the kitchen shelving, pots and pans raining down around them. The fight was short and brutal and then it was over and Alaric shifted back, standing over the soldier, breathing hard.

He was covered in blood. Some of it probably wasn't his.

His eyes found Selene's.

"Kitchen passage. Move."

"Alaric, our parents are—"

"Fighting." He crossed the kitchen in four strides and grabbed her arm. Not rough but not gentle either. Urgent. "They told you to run. I'm telling you to run. So you are going to run right now."

"But—"

"Selene." Something moved through his eyes that she didn't have a name for. "Please."

More soldiers burst through the kitchen door behind him.

Alaric shoved her toward the passage and turned back to meet them.

"Go!" he snarled. And then his wolf took him again and he threw himself into the fight and Selene grabbed Isolde's hand and they ran into the dark.