Aylin walked with her head down, her steps silent against the dirt path that led away from Silverclaw Castle. The weight of the pack's judgment pressed against her like a hand on the back of her neck, heavy and suffocating. She did not have to look up to notice they were watching.
Their stares burned into her, some with disdain, others with something even worse.
Desire.
It slithered over her skin, the sick anticipation of men viewing her as easy prey now that she was no longer protected. An outcast. A discarded thing.
Her hands tightened into fists, but she continued to walk, forcing herself not to react. Not to run. Running would only make things worse. They were waiting for her to cross the threshold, to step outside the pack's laws. Only then would the hunt begin.
She swallowed the bile that was rising in her throat and tightened her grip on her mother's scarf.
The forest loomed ahead, dark and endless. The towering pines swallowed the last light of dusk, casting shadows over the path like skeletal fingers. The air was heavy with the scent of wet earth and distant rain, but beneath it, she detected a faint hint of something else—something primal.
They were waiting.
Aylin knew this game.
She would seen it before, watched others be cast out, stripped of their rank, names, and place in the pack. Some had fought their way back. Others had never been seen again.
The ones who were hunted never survived. She felt the same disgust then as she does now. A noble pack known for its nobility and justice was equally savage as the others.
Silas was no exception; he discarded a pregnant woman without hesitation, allowing her to be hunted and, in the best-case scenario, killed; however, she knew that women never died easily in a hunt.
Her pulse pounded in her ears as she passed the last of the houses, the final remnants of what had once been her home. A few of the women whispered behind their hands, their gazes shifting between her and the men who lurked in the shadows, scenting the air like wolves on the verge of a hunt.
She bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself forward.
Step by step.
'Don't run.'
'Not yet. Don't give them an early start.'
The trees swallowed her whole as she reached the edge of the territory. She felt the wind shift, the change in the air. The invisible line was between safety and death.
A howl split the silence behind her.
The hunt had begun.
—
Aylin's breath came in sharp, uneven gasps as she dashed through the thickening woods. The first howl echoed in the distance, sending shivers down her spine. Her wolf growled low in her chest, urging her to turn back. The pull of the bond, the twisted thread that connected her to Silas, flared in her veins, a constant ache that refused to let her go.
'Tell him the truth,' her wolf insisted. 'Tell him it was all a lie. You weren't pregnant. You can go back. You can fix this.'
But Aylin knew better. Her heart clenched, and her fingers tightened around the leather satchel she carried. She reached into it with trembling hands and pulled out the small bundle of herbs.
She had prepared them a long time ago, knowing that one day she would need to mask her scent. The herbs were ground into powder, and the scent of lavender and something else mingled in the air as she rubbed them into her skin, pressing the crushed leaves into her wrists, neck, and the insides of her elbows.
The scent changed, blending with the natural fragrance of the woods while concealing her own. The pack would no longer be able to find her. Not easily, anyway. It would not be enough to put an end to the chase, but it would provide her with a chance—albeit a slim one.
She had already prepared a hiding place; she did not want to waste years of preparation by being caught now.
Her wolf howled again, louder this time, the sound echoing in the depths of her mind. 'You have to go back. You belong to him, Aylin. You can fix this. You owe him the truth.'
She paused for a moment, the weight of the words threatening to collapse her resolve. 'I don't owe him anything', she thought bitterly. The pain of his rejection still burned through her, a raw wound that had not yet healed. 'I never owed him anything.'
She forced herself to continue, despite her wolf's pleas to return. Each step felt like it ripped something inside her, but she could not back down. She had made her choice. She had to live with it. She reminded herself that she was never his and would never be his again, but the words tasted bitter, like poison on her tongue.
The howls grew louder now—close, too close. Aylin pushed forward, her legs moving on their own; she knew the path by heart. She ducked under branches and darted around thick trunks, her heart hammering in her chest as the pursuit closed in. The pack was still in Silverclaw, but they would follow her scent and trace her through the woods with ease. They were wolves. She was only human now, with no pack to protect her, no place to belong.
Her wolf whimpered again, pushing harder and demanding she stop, but she ignored it. This was what she had prepared for. This was what she had planned.
Ahead of her, the trees parted slightly, the scent of the forest thickening as she neared the edge of their territory. She could almost feel the pack closing in and could almost hear their heavy breathing as they tracked her every move. But she wouldn't stop. She couldn't.
Silas would never fight for her. He had made that clear. 'He cast me out', Aylin thought. 'I am nothing to him now. I will not go back.'
As the first of the wolves' silhouettes appeared from the shadows, Aylin took a deep breath, bracing herself for the chase. She would run. She would fight. And she would survive.