Page 4

Our escape from the cottage went smoothly. I was never locked inside. It wasn’t necessary, because the Collinses knew I had nowhere to go; being pregnant and then having Harper, I wouldn’t even risk it. Mr. Collins had made it very clear he’d find us wherever I ran; they knew I didn’t even have my wolf’s protection.

I hold Ava’s tiny body against me, willing her to stay quiet. At only fourteen months, she seems to have already learned when it’s dangerous to be too loud, something that breaks my heart when I think of how much she has endured already.

My resolve only grows the further we travel into the forest. I’m trying to stay off the main trails, walking in the direction of the coastline. All the ports are used to seeing visitors with all the regular trade going to and from the island, so we’ll be able to blend in better, and I can work out my next steps. The priority is finding somewhere warm for Harper to rest. The money I stole from the Collinses’ box in the kitchen weighs heavily in my bag. I know stealing it will only make them angrier, but I had no choice.

I try to focus on the trail ahead and not the burning in my arms from carrying Harper and our small bag for hours. The sun will be rising soon, and we’ll lose the cover of darkness. I can only hope we’re far enough away from the Collins house to give us enough of a head start.

Ava becomes more alert as we near the edge of the forest, her little head turning this way and that, taking in the sights and sounds around us. She’s never been this deep into the forest before and is clearly fascinated but also restless. The smell of pine and earth fills our lungs as we step out into a small clearing. I set Harper down gently, grateful for a moment’s rest and the chance for Harper to stretch her legs before she starts grumbling too much.

She immediately stumbles towards a small stream, reaching for the cool water. I watch as she splashes her hands, laughing joyfully. It's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. She looks up at me, her eyes bright and curious, and I can see my reflection in them—a mix of fear and determination. "Mama, Mama, Mama," she chants, rubbing her hands together with delight.

I smile softly, leaning against a nearby tree. The bark is rough against my back but provides much-needed support. "Don’t get too wet," I laugh. "I’ll fill up our bottles."

I grab our empty bottles and crouch down next to her by the small stream, refilling them as Harper collects leaves, holding them up in the early morning golden light as though they are treasure.

The sound of rustling leaves behind us startles me, and I tense instinctively before realizing it's just a family of deer making their way through the underbrush. Their muted spotted coats blend perfectly with the colors of autumn leaves and soft morning light. Ava seems mesmerized by them, too. She reaches out her little hand toward them but doesn't take another step forward.

Relaxing again slightly, I release the breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding and pull out some bread from our bag, breaking off pieces for us to snack on. I know we can’t stay here long, but I can already feel my tired arms coming back to life. I just need a few more minutes.

Harper takes a bite of the bread, looking at me questioningly. "We're going on an adventure," I say, gently smoothing her blonde curls from her face. "To a place where the sun always shines, we can see the sea, and we’ll be happy together."

I feel the tears prickling my eyes, desperately wanting the words I’m telling her to be true. She seems to consider this before nodding seriously and scooping up another handful of leaves, not a care in the world. I’ll do anything to protect her innocence.

The wind picks up slightly, carrying with it a warning chill that sends shivers down my spine. I stand up quickly, grabbing Harper's hand. "It's time to go,” I say.

She seems unfazed as I adjust the bag and lift her into my arms. She’s not a tiny baby anymore, but a cheeky toddler who wriggles in my arms even though I will her to be still. I wish I was stronger, and I curse my wolf for abandoning me after Callum’s rejection. My wolf was never the strongest or fastest, but since she retreated into my soul, my strength has only faded more. The pregnancy and birth were hard on my body, and I needed her, but she never returned. Sometimes, I can almost feel her at the very edge of my subconscious, and I try to bring her forth, desperate for her return, but she slips away.

I could not carry easily Harper even if I had my wolf, but I would be stronger and know that I could defend her. The truth is, I feel like a failure. I cannot even protect my own daughter; I’ve allowed the Collinses to scare and threaten her. I vowed to be a better parent than my own ever were and love her more than any of the pack ever loved me, to give her a better life and show her what happiness really means.

And yet, here we are, alone and vulnerable in the forest, just hoping the Collinses won’t catch up with us, knowing I’m unable to defend us if that happens.

This is our only chance of escape—my only chance to keep Harper safe. I cannot fail her again.

The forest is coming alive now as daylight filters through the canopy of trees, illuminating the path before us. I feel slightly nauseous as I consider that our absence will have been noted by now. It’s my job to start the fires in the morning, prepare their breakfast, start the washing, and split new logs. I’m expected to be up and awake long before them, and they will definitely be awake by now. The house will be cold, and they will have come looking for me.

A shiver of dread runs through me as I remember the few times I was late starting my duties, especially when Harper was only a tiny baby, the yelling as Mr. Collins would drag me from the room, slapping me around the head and throwing me outside, where I’d have to listen to Harper’s cries as I rushed through my chores. I know it should make me angry. It should fire me up. But instead, I simply feel embarrassed. Embarrassed that I ever believed they were actually going to help me when they found me in the forest the night I walked away from Callum, the pack, and my family. They’d pretended to be concerned and offered me somewhere to stay. I was a fool for believing anyone would just want to help me.

I shake my head to clear away those thoughts. There is no time for self-pity or wishful thinking. All that matters now is getting as far away from them as possible. And maybe then, I can find a safe place for us to stay. Somewhere Harper will never have to feel scared or alone again—a real home.

I push myself to move faster, my breathing becoming more strained as the ground gets steeper and we reach the top of the hill. I look down at Harper, her cheeks a rosy pink from the cold, but at least she’s sleeping soundly in my arms again. She’s a brave little girl, but I wish she didn’t have to be so strong so soon. My heart aches for her as we continue on, my thin boots crunching against frosty twigs and leaves. Suddenly, the wind picks up, carrying with it a howl that sends shivers down my spine.

“Please, not the wolves. Not already,” I whisper to myself, my voice trembling. “It's just the wind.”

But as we continue walking, the sound grows louder and more distinct. Panic begins to surge inside me as I realize we're not alone on the trail. Wolves—and they're getting closer by the second. Is it the Collinses, or some other wolves out running? I try to kid myself that it could be anyone out for a run, but I recognize the aggression in their howls. They’re hunting.

My legs tremble underneath me as I force them to keep moving despite the burning in my arms from carrying Harper and our bag. I can feel my strength draining away with every step. Without my wolf, adrenaline is not an endless resource.

We finally reach an opening in the trees, where there's a small creek frozen over with the frost that still lingers in the air. I know we need to stop and rest here because I can’t keep going, but we don't have time if those wolves are coming for us. Their howls are drawing closer, echoing off the trees like a warning. My heart is pounding in my ears as we stay close to the tree line, reaching some large boulders that I duck behind. I can’t see anyone, but I can feel them out there. I think they’re on one of the other trails, but that is no comfort, as it’s easier to cut across in wolf form. The forest is no obstacle.

They let out a chilling growl that sends Harper stirring in my arms, whimpering softly as she wakes from her nap. I quickly hush her, not wanting her to sense my fear, but that seems unavoidable, and she begins to whimper. There's no hiding from the fact that the Collinses have found me. In wolf form, they must have covered my escape route in no time to have already caught up with us. They're coming for us; they’re coming to claim what they think is rightfully theirs—Harper and me.

I force myself to look at her, trying to give her some reassurance even though I have none. "It's okay, sweetie," I whisper, my voice shaking as I try to sound calm for her sake. "We'll be safe here." But even as I say those words, I know they're a lie. We're not safe anywhere with them on the trail.

We can't outrun them. I don't even think I can fight them off without my wolf. But I won't let them take me or Harper without a fight. What if they drag me back and just leave Harper out here alone? The thought makes my blood run cold, and I clutch Harper tighter against me, trying to block out the cold seeping through our thin clothing as the trees rustle and snap behind us.

I see Mr. Collins’s wolf step into the clearing; his wife and a couple of wolves I don’t recognize linger behind him as he shifts back to human form. “Come out, Ava. We know you’re there.” He smirks. “Don’t make this worse for yourself. After all, you’re a thief now, too.”

I carefully put Harper down and place my bag in front of her. I open it and give her the rest of the bread to try and occupy her while I call on my wolf one last time. I can feel Mr. Collins pacing in the clearing, and my heart pounds with fear and adrenaline as I look at Harper’s beautiful face and try to will myself to shift. To fight.

I feel my wolf in the recesses of my mind. I can almost sense her intention and willingness to return, but something is stopping her. If she won’t return now when it matters more than ever, then when will she? I look down at my hands and see claws appearing and then retracting, but I can’t complete the shift. Frustration makes me feel sick as I weigh my options: beg them not to hurt us? They’re scared of Harper. I don’t think they’ll let me keep her.

I reach into my bag and take the silver-tipped knife I’ve kept hidden since finding it in the barn a few weeks ago. I sharpened it to a fine point, and it is capable of doing some damage, but perhaps not enough. It might be my only chance, though, if they threaten to hurt Harper. Tears sting my eyes as I step to the side of the boulder and reveal myself just as Harper begins to cry, reaching for me.

“I won’t miss that damn noise,” Mr. Collins snarls, making me flinch.

I hold my head high, “Well, I won’t go anywhere without my daughter. I will fight you with everything I have to keep her safe,” I tell him, my voice determined but shaky.

He simply laughs and looks back at his wife and the other two wolves. “She really thinks she has a choice.”

Harper is wailing now, and I falter slightly, the bond between us demanding I pick her up, but I daren’t take my eyes off the man in front of me. Suddenly, something catches my eye at the side of the clearing. Is there another wolf? Are we surrounded? I feel dizzy with panic and look toward Mr. Collins, who has also turned to look deeper into the forest. For a moment, I think I catch a familiar scent on the breeze, but the crackle of thunder that follows sends me reeling before I can think clearly. Mr. Collins’ eyes widen a fraction right before the figure of a man barrels into him, followed by a flash of lightning that sends him flying backward. He staggers to his feet as a giant silver wolf launches at him out of nowhere.

A wolf I would recognize anywhere: Callum.