Chapter 5 The Forest Escape

Beatrice pov

My hand closed around the locket. The metal was warm against my skin.

"Beatrice, don't listen to him," Selene said. Her voice was too high, "He's lying to you."

Matthias kept his eyes on the warriors. "I have documentation. Proof of her identity. Would you like to see it, or would you prefer to explain to the Council why you've been hiding a kidnapped royal for twenty years?"

Royal. The word hit me like a punch to the gut.

"She's not going anywhere," Selene said as she stepped forward, and the warriors moved with her.

Luna snarled in my head. Run. Now.

I bolted.

My feet knew the garden paths better than anyone. I ran through the vegetable beds, jumped the low fence, and headed for the tree line. Behind me, I heard shouting and the sound of pursuit.

The forest was thick here, dense with old pines and twisted oaks. I'd explored these woods for years, gathering herbs and mushrooms for the kitchen. My thin shoes slipped on pine needles as I ran deeper into the shadows.

"Beatrice!" Matthias's voice echoed behind me. "Wait!"

I didn't wait. My lungs burned and my legs ached, but I kept running. I didn't know what was true anymore. Matthias could be lying. Selene could be lying. The only thing I knew for sure was that I needed space to think.

The forest floor sloped downward. I followed a deer trail that wound between massive tree trunks. Sunlight barely reached the ground here. Everything was green and quiet except for my ragged breathing.

I finally stopped at a stream, my hands on my knees, gasping for air. The locket dangled from my fingers, catching what little light filtered through the canopy.

What's happening to me? I asked Luna.

She paced in my mind, agitated and excited at the same time. That man spoke the truth. I can feel it. This locket... it calls to something in our blood.

I held the locket up to examine it closer. The engravings were beautiful, detailed work that must have cost a fortune. When I turned it over, I found a tiny clasp. My fingers fumbled with it until it clicked open.

Inside was a miniature painting. A woman with dark hair and grey eyes smiled out at me. Beside her was a man with a strong jaw and kind expression. Between them sat four boys of varying ages, all with the same dark coloring.

And in the woman's arms was a baby. A baby with a small birthmark on her left shoulder, just like mine.

My legs gave out. I sat hard on the mossy ground, staring at the painting.

"No," I whispered. "This can't be real."

But the scent that clung to the locket was unmistakable now. Everything my soul had been crying out for my entire life.

A twig snapped behind me.

I spun around, expecting Matthias or the warriors. Instead, I saw three men I didn't recognize. They were dressed in rough clothes, their faces hard and scarred. Rogues. The smell of them made Luna recoil in my mind.

"Well, well," the largest one said. He had a thick beard and cold eyes. "What do we have here?"

I scrambled to my feet. "I'm from Silvermist Pack. You're on their territory."

"We know." The second rogue circled to my right. He was thin and moved like a snake. "We've been watching that pack for weeks now. Imagine our surprise when their little servant girl runs off into the woods alone."

The third rogue, shorter but muscular, blocked my path back toward Silvermist. "Seems like nobody's coming to save you."

Luna surged forward in my mind. Let me out. Let me fight.

But I'd only shifted once, I had no idea how to fight in wolf form. I was helpless here, and these rogues knew it.

"My pack will come looking for me," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

The bearded rogue laughed. "That pack doesn't care about you. We've heard the stories. The rejected servant nobody wants."

He was right, and we both knew it. Selene might send warriors after me, but only to bring me back for whatever plans she had. These rogues would kill me here, and nobody would even miss me.

The thin rogue pulled a knife from his belt. "Nothing personal, girl. But your scent is all wrong. You smell like power and that makes you valuable to certain people."

"Or dangerous," the muscular one added. "Safer to just get rid of you."

They moved in unison, closing the circle around me. I backed up until my heels hit the stream. There was nowhere left to run.

Luna, I thought desperately. Help me.

She threw herself against my mental barriers. I felt my bones begin to shift, my vision sharpening. But the transformation was slow, too slow. The bearded rogue raised his knife.

Then a howl split the air.

It was the most beautiful and terrifying sound I'd ever heard. Deep and powerful, it echoed through the forest and made every hair on my body stand up. The rogues froze, their faces going pale.

"Shit," the thin one said. "That's a beta wolf."

"Run!" the bearded one shouted.

But it was too late. A massive russet-colored wolf burst through the undergrowth, moving faster than anything that size should be able to move. His green eyes locked onto the rogues with deadly focus.

More wolves poured into the clearing. Grey ones, black ones, brown ones. At least a dozen of them, all massive and clearly trained fighters.

The rogues tried to scatter, but the wolves were everywhere. The russet wolf went straight for the bearded rogue, taking him down with a single leap. His jaws closed around the man's shoulder, and the rogue screamed.

I pressed myself against a tree, trying to stay out of the way. My heart hammered so hard I thought it might break through my ribs.

The fight was over in seconds. The rogues who could still run fled into the forest. The ones who couldn't lay on the ground, bleeding but alive. The wolves had been careful not to kill them.

The russet wolf turned to look at me. His green eyes were familiar somehow, gentle despite the blood on his muzzle. He took a step toward me, and Luna went absolutely wild in my head.

Mate, she said. That's him. That's our mate.

"No," I whispered. "I already had a mate. He rejected me."

This is different, Luna insisted. This is real.

The wolf shifted. Bones cracked and reformed, fur receding into skin. In seconds, a man stood where the wolf had been. He was naked, but someone tossed him pants from a pack near the trees. He pulled them on without taking his eyes off me.

"Beatrice," he said softly.

I recognized that voice. That face. Those green eyes.

"Darius?" I managed.

He took another step forward. "Are you hurt?"

I shook my head, unable to form words. My entire world was spinning. First Matthias and the locket, then the rogues, now this.

"We need to get you somewhere safe," Darius said. He reached out slowly, like I was a spooked animal. "Will you let me help you?"

Before I could answer, four more howls echoed through the forest. These were different from Darius's beta call. These were alpha howls, full of power and rage and something that made my blood sing with recognition.

Darius's expression changed. He looked past me toward the sound, and I saw respect and maybe a little fear cross his face.

"They're here," he said quietly.

"Who?" I asked.

Four enormous wolves emerged from the shadows. They were the biggest wolves I'd ever seen, easily twice the size of the others. A massive black one with white markings led the pack. Behind him came a large grey one, then a sleek black one, and finally a pure white wolf that moved like a ghost.

They stopped at the edge of the clearing, and every other wolf immediately lowered their heads in submission. Even Darius dropped his gaze.

The black wolf's golden eyes fixed on me. He took one step forward, then another. His massive head tilted as he scented the air.

Then he shifted.

The man who stood before me was tall and powerfully built, with black hair and those same golden eyes. He was maybe thirty, with sharp features and an air of absolute authority. He stared at me like I was a ghost he'd been searching for his entire life.

"Sister," he said, his voice breaking on the word.

The other three wolves shifted. The grey-haired one had a pack slung across his back, and he quickly distributed clothing to his brothers. Four men now stood in the clearing, pulling on pants and shirts with practiced efficiency, all of them staring at me with identical expressions of shock and desperate hope.

The grey-haired one stepped forward. His amber eyes were wet with tears. "Beatrice? Is it really you?"

I looked down at the locket still clutched in my hand. At the painting of the four boys who'd grown into these four men.

"I don't understand," I whispered.

The black-haired man moved closer. When he spoke again, his voice was rough with emotion. "My name is Theron Wynter. These are my brothers. And you... you're our sister. The one we've been searching for since the day you were taken from us twenty years ago."