Page 8

8

EVE

I closed the door behind me, the latch clicking into place, the only sound that broke the stillness of my tiny cabin. I leaned sideways against it, my shoulders throbbing as pain seeped through my skin and into my bones. Gritting my teeth, I pressed my hands to the tender spots, feeling the sharp ache radiate with every touch.

It was like fire beneath my fingertips. Open wounds that I couldn’t heal.

Because of Damian.

A lump formed in my throat, hot and heavy. I forced it down, exhaling a long breath that didn’t ease a thing.

Outside, the alpha’s compound sprawled in manicured gardens, all bright flowers and neatly trimmed hedges. It looked more like a painting than a place wolves should call home. Grayson maintained everything perfectly—the pathways swept clean, the grass trimmed just so, an unspoken reminder of his control over every inch of his territory.

That control stopped at my front door .

Inside was bare. An empty shell of a place, like a dollhouse someone had forgotten to finish.

But it was mine.

The walls were plain, the wood chipped in places. One tiny cot was wedged against the far wall, its mattress so thin I could feel the slats underneath when I tried to sleep. My blankets were worn and frayed, more threads than fabric at this point, though I’d sewn them up so many times it felt like I’d made the things from scratch.

There was a single wooden chair by a small table, its surface scuffed and stained from whoever used it before me. A book rested on the table, a thick volume detailing Incan history. Kenza would bring a book for me whenever she could get her hands on one and I devoured them. Anything to pass the hours between ceremonial appearances. Next to it, a cracked pitcher sat on a shelf with a chipped porcelain cup. A kitchen set-up was in the corner, and a toilet open to the rest of the room—four walls and barely enough space to breathe. I’d been here long enough to get used to it, but sometimes, especially after coming back from the grand halls of the alpha’s mansion, it struck me how hollow it all was.

Any sense of warmth or comfort was something I’d had to make for myself—a small stash of wild herbs I’d dried and hung in the corner, a scarf I’d once found and kept hidden so I’d have something soft to hang. There were no photographs, no trinkets, nothing that made this cabin feel like it belonged to me. Grayson had seen to that. I wasn’t allowed visitors, and no one from the pack dared approach anyway.

Today I was grateful for it .

I eased the fabric of my dress over my shoulders, wincing as it slipped past the tender, raw skin. I guided my braid over to rest against my chest, feeling the familiar weight as it settled against me, a small comfort as the pain hummed in my brain. I looked over my shoulder into the cracked mirror, the jagged line across the glass splitting my reflection.

Thank the Shadow Moon Goddess no one can see this.

Though that had been Damian’s intention all along.

The wounds streaked across my back in sharp, angry welts, still fresh, the skin raised and livid red. Dark bruises were already beginning to bloom around them, each one a sign of Damian’s cruelty etched onto my body. In the reflection, it was almost as if I were looking at someone else—some other girl who wore this silent suffering on her skin, a stranger trapped in her own life. I traced each line with my eyes, each welt, feeling a strange numbness settle over me as I took it in, as if by distancing myself from the pain, I could make it easier to bear.

Damian had gone looking for me and couldn’t find me and… well, this was the result..

My wolf whined, unable to do a thing to help.

I reached for the small tin I’d stashed in a hollow beneath the floorboards, pulling out a handful of bandages and a small jar of salve I’d stolen from the alpha’s supplies. It was meant for minor cuts and bruises, but it would have to do. Carefully, I dipped my fingers into the salve, a cool, herbal smell rising up to meet me. My hand trembled as I applied it as well as I could to the edges of each lash, a sting of pain flashing through me at every touch.

It was the first time Damian had ever gone this far, the first time his violence left such a visible mark. The shoving, the pierced skin to make me bleed, the yanking on my braid behind closed doors was one thing.

Whipping me in the basement of his annex was entirely another.

The worst part wasn’t the pain. It was what it meant.

This is only the beginning.

I pulled on a fresh dress, careful to let the fabric slide gently over my shoulders and down my back, wincing as it brushed against the welts. I forced myself to stand tall, arranging the neckline and sleeves just right to hide the worst of it. I glanced in the cracked mirror again, making sure not a mark showed. The last thing I needed was anyone noticing, anyone prying. Who knew what they would do if they saw my weakness? Already they’d smell the blood on me, but everyone was smarter than to make comment on the alpha’s oracle.

I added more salve to cover the smell.

The few times I’d tried to open up, it hadn’t gone well. The last time I dared was years ago, when I caught Sable watching me with a measured glance I misinterpreted as sympathy. Once I started talking to her, opening up in the smallest of ways about my living conditions, her mood had hardened instantly. Her face changed from what I’d thought was understanding to an expression that was icy and unreadable.

“You’d better remember who you are,” she’d said, her tone clipped, cutting me off before I could say more. “Talking ill of the alpha and his son is a reckless move, oracle . You never truly know who you’re talking to. And I won’t let you drag me into it.”

Her words had stung more than the wounds I tried to hide. Since then, I’d learned to keep my anguish to myself, locked away where no one else could twist it into another weapon.

With a pained sigh, I made one final adjustment to my dress and grabbed a small satchel, though my mind was already drifting to that wolf from the forest. If I could find him again, make him understand what I needed—what I deserved —then maybe I’d have a fighting chance.

I opened the door and slipped out, hugging the shadows along the edge of the compound. A little farther, and I could make it to the woods without being seen.

But as soon as I stepped into the light, a familiar face came into view and blocked my path.

“Why the long face, friend?” Kenza said it cheerfully, as was her way. She stepped forward and draped her arm across my shoulders like she’d done a thousand times before.

Pain shot through me like lightning, but I bit down hard, swallowing the gasp that nearly slipped free. I forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as strained as it felt. “Oh, you know,” I said lightly, trying to sound as casual as possible, “just thinking.”

Kenza’s brow furrowed. “Since when does thinking make you look like a kicked pup?” She leaned closer. “Come on, out with it. What happened? Damian name-calling again?”

Her hand pressed into the welts and bruises I’d so carefully hidden. Every instinct told me to pull away, but I couldn’t risk her seeing how bad it was. “Nothing, really,” I said, shifting my shoulder as subtly as I could. “A rough night, that’s all.”

Kenza didn’t look convinced. “A rough night? Eve?—”

“Please, Kenza,” I said quickly, cutting her off before she could press further. “I just need a bit of space right now. Give me some time, okay?”

To my relief, her hand slipped off my shoulder, though I felt her hesitation. “Alright, fine,” she muttered, taking a step back. “But you’re not getting off that easy. We’ll talk later.”

“Of course. Later.” I turned away as swiftly as I could manage without giving away the agony in every step. I walked on, feeling her eyes on my back.

“Take care, Eve,” she called after me, and I heard her concern.

I didn’t look back.

As I moved further away from the compound, I silently pleaded with the Shadow Moon Goddess that the shifter meant Seattle when he talked about going to the human city. It was the nearest one, sprawling and busy—a place where supernaturals, even those from outside the Shadow Moon packs, gathered in secret to conduct their affairs. It was neutral ground, like most human cities had been since the Shadow Moon Goddess had arrived and created new alliances to calm the chaos that had dominated this world before. In the cities, wolves didn’t vie for territory, and grudges were set aside—at least for as long as it took to do business.

It would make sense that he meant Seattle, but if he hadn’t… I didn’t know what I would do .

Nor did I know what I would do when I got there, and I didn’t know what I’d say to him even if I did find him.

I’d figure all that out when the time came. With pain searing down my back, one step at a time was all my brain could manage. I turned a corner and slammed into someone solid. Pain shot through me, sharper than before, and a cry escaped my lips.

“Oh, you’ve got nerve screeching like that,” Sable spat, not even trying to hide her disdain. “You’re the one who bumped into me .”

I gripped the wall beside me, huffing softly as I fought to keep the world from blurring out. “I’m… sorry…” I managed, forcing the words out even as my vision swam.

She glared down at me, lips twisting. “You should be sorry—” Her eyes dropped to my shoulder, and her expression of fury calmed. “Eve, you’re bleeding.”

I pulled my sleeve closer, giving her a tight smile. “Clumsy as ever,” I said quickly, trying to sound breezy. “I’ll be fine. Just need to be more careful. Like Damian says,” I added for good measure, stepping to the side and forcing my legs to carry me forward.

I could feel her gaze burning into my back as I hurried off, each step harder than the last. My mind raced, hoping she’d do what she always did—shrug me off, turn away, and leave me forgotten.

With a final glance over my shoulder, I saw Sable watching me. There was a chink in her armor, something I’d never seen before. I could swear she looked worried. About me .

That couldn’t be good news. I knew whose side she was on .

Forget I ever existed. Forget this ever happened. Shadow Moon Goddess, let me get out of here.

I made it to the main road that led into Heraclid pack lands, all the way to the bus stop, and used a few of the coins I’d found in pockets in the alpha’s cloakroom. The bus rumbled beneath me, each bump in the road jostling me closer to the city, closer to him.

Seattle. It had to be where he meant. Had to.

My heart raced with each passing mile, and as I settled into the worn seat, I pressed my forehead against the window, watching the trees blur into smudges of green.

I closed my eyes, hoping for a few moments of rest before I reached the city. When my lids shut, the shifter was there, vivid as ever.

A vision.

In the vision, I was in my wolf form, powerful and swift, bounding through the forest. His form was beside me, his dark brown coat gleaming as he kept pace, an equal in every way.

We ran together, the world stretching out before us, open and endless. Cool earth beneath my paws, the wind through my fur. And then, in a heartbeat, he nudged me, playful and wild, and we tumbled together. His wolf form wrapped around mine, his warmth spreading through me, fierce and steady, like nothing I’d ever felt. My wolf’s eyes met his, and there was no question of trust or danger, only a deep, mutual understanding.

With a man I didn’t know.

When I opened my eyes, the vision still clung to me, hazy yet powerful. My chest rose and fell with quick breaths, and I reached instinctively to touch my shoulder. My back still ached and the wounds remained open, but I wasn’t actively bleeding anymore. It was impossible, Damian having whipped me only a few hours earlier.

Unless it was my wolf. As if running free in the vision had given her space to act on my human form in real life.

The bus rattled to a stop at the Seattle terminal, a plain, utilitarian building tucked between looming high-rises and the bustle of city streets. I stepped off, blinking in the early morning light. The concrete platform stretched wide, lined with benches, each filled with tired travelers and scattered bags. Rows of buses idled nearby, releasing clouds of diesel smoke that mixed with the salty tang of the Puget Sound just beyond the terminal. In the distance, ferries moved across the water like silent sentries, and the cry of gulls cut through the din of traffic and engines.

None of that held my attention. Instead, something sharp and familiar wove its way through the scents of the city, the damp concrete, and the smells of the port.

Him.

The scent hit me hard, that same mix of forest air and uncharted waters. I gripped my bag tighter, searching the crowd as if he might be waiting right there, watching me. I didn’t even know his name, but that didn’t matter. I knew his scent as surely as I knew my own heartbeat.

I pulled my bag close and let myself follow it, weaving through the crowd without a second thought. Here, amid the swirl of people and noise, my flowing dress barely drew a second glance. Seattle’s eclectic population provided the perfect cover.

A different note teased at the edge of my senses. Fainter, but unmistakably familiar. I froze, my breath catching as I tried to pinpoint it. It felt like… me. My scent, yet not mine. Like the essence of my own skin, carried on the wind.

It wasn’t the first time I’d had this kind of experience. The other Shadow Moon packs shared something unique in their blood, a common thread that bound us together, setting us apart from the wider supernatural world, and that could be what I was smelling. Even so, this felt closer, sharper.

Familiar enough to make unwanted tears rise.

My mother?

Almost the moment I thought it, the scent was gone. A mirage, like I wished it into existence. Maybe I had.

I picked up a different scent, almost insulting the thoughts I had dared to entertain. Iron, thick and sharp, mingled with the sickly sweetness of overripe fruit.

My stomach churned as I recognized it. Damian. Even from a distance, his presence seeped into the air like a warning. Sable must have run to him, tattling and setting him on my trail like a dog after a fox.

I had to get away from the stench of him. Even my wolf recoiled at him. His cruelty was woven into every trace of his scent. I could practically feel his breath on my neck, whispering that he’d catch me, that I’d never slip from his grip.

No.

I closed my eyes for a brief second, and when I opened them, I again caught the hint of evergreen and ocean. Him .

Without a second thought, I started to run, weaving through the crowded streets, keeping my focus pinned to that faint, grounding scent. He was close. As long as I could follow it—keeping Damian at a safe distance…

I had to find him.

Slicing through the din of the city, over the bustle of high-rises, traffic, and oblivious humans, I heard it: that wretched voice, Damian’s lilt. It reached me like a knife thrown through the air, freezing me in place, a rabbit in the lion’s den.

I’m coming for you, Eve.