Chapter 18: The Escape to the Eastern Region
LUNA POINT OF VIEW
2009 — Two Days Before the Attack
The wind whispered through the trees like a messenger with bad news, carrying the sharp tang of pine and something else. Something darker. Dawn had yet to break, but the forest was already awake—stirring like a great beast unsettled in its sleep.
I stood at the edge of the clearing, golden eyes narrowed toward the thicket beyond. The shadows stretched unnaturally long, twisting between the trees as though they were reaching for us. My breath fogged in the icy air. I didn't need to see them to know they were there.
We were not alone.
The cottage door creaked. Zach emerged, a coat slung over one shoulder, his hair still damp from washing at the nearby stream. He moved with quiet strength, but his eyes... those eyes still carried the unspoken weight of our last conversation. Behind him, Bri stepped lightly, clutching her satchel close as if it might shield her from the world. Mother Zita followed last—her walking stick tapping against the earth in steady rhythm, her gaze sharp as any blade.
"There's movement beyond the ridge," I said without turning. My voice was low, meant for them alone. "They're not here to attack. Not yet. They're watching."
"Scouts?" Zach's posture stiffened instantly.
I gave a single, grim nod. "Rogues. Sent by Lucian, no doubt. Testing us. Waiting."
Mother Zita's face darkened, her grip tightening on the cane. "The third day of the crescent moon," she muttered. "He's waiting for the moon to swell. He'll time his strike when the shadows are longest."
Zach's jaw clenched. "Then let him come. I'll fight."
I turned to him fully, my tone cutting through the cold air. "No. You are not ready."
His eyes blazed. "You said you believed in me."
"And I do," I stepped closer, holding his gaze. "But believing in the man you can become doesn't mean I'll gamble the boy you still are. Your strength is raw, untamed. One slip, and Lucian will take everything from you—including the very thing you don't yet understand."
He looked ready to argue, but Zita's voice cut in like a steel blade. "She's right. You might win the fight... but at what cost? Lucian knows fates worse than death. He's made a craft of them."
Bri stayed quiet, but her small hand gripped Zach's sleeve—a silent plea not to throw himself into the fire.
I turned eastward, where the trees thinned toward distant mountains. "There's only one path left. We leave. Tonight. Before first light."
Zach's voice was tight. "Where?"
"The Eastern Region," I said. "Far beyond Lucian's reach. Hidden by mountains and wards older than his bloodline. Alpha Blake and his mate, Leah, rule there. Old allies. Trusted ones."
Mother Zita's brows lifted slightly. "Blake... the Alpha who bends the minds of men?"
"Yes," I replied. "He can shield Zach from Lucian's gaze, even drive invading minds into madness if need be. If anywhere can hold him safe, it's Blake's territory."
Zach shook his head. "You're asking me to run."
"No," I corrected softly. "I'm asking you to survive."
The choice was made in silence.
⸻
We left under the cover of moonlight, cloaks drawn tight, our steps swift but silent. The deeper we went, the thicker the forest seemed to breathe—watching, listening. The night carried a strange pressure, as though the branches leaned in to overhear our passing. Somewhere in that shifting darkness, eyes followed.
The wind changed. I caught it—faint, sharp. Wolf.
I froze so abruptly the others almost collided with me.
A howl split the air. Long. Low. Measured. Not a call to hunt. A signal.
"We've been spotted," I said.
Zach's fists curled. "We don't have time."
"No," I agreed. "We don't."
My cloak hit the earth in one motion. My bones lengthened, skin giving way to gold fur as my body reshaped. The change rolled through me like a second heartbeat. It was not pain—it was release. My paws dug into the soil, breath steaming in the cold.
Zach shifted beside me, the change snapping through him with raw force. His wolf was massive, black as midnight, red eyes glowing with barely contained rage.
Bri didn't hesitate—she swung herself onto Zach's back, arms tightening around his neck.
Mother Zita moved slower, but when I lowered myself to the ground, she climbed up with surprising steadiness.
I met Zach's eyes for a heartbeat.
Run.
We tore into the forest.
⸻
The ground blurred beneath us—mud, moss, and roots pounding under our paws. Wind roared past my ears. Every breath was sharp, pulling the scents of the forest deep into my lungs—pine, cold water, damp earth... and behind us, the hot copper tang of rogue wolves closing in.
They were fast. But we were faster.
We leapt streams and hurdled frost-slick logs. The forest seemed to shift for us—branches bending just enough to let us pass, roots rolling out of our way like living things. Still, the howls behind us grew louder.
A memory flashed—Lillia's tear-streaked face, the weight of her son in her arms, the vow I had made under the stars. The vision of the boy drenched in blood and shadow. The prophecy had begun to stir.
Zach's mind brushed mine—not words, just heat and frustration.
He hated this. Running.
I sent back one feeling—wait.
The howls changed pitch. They'd split their forces. Some ahead. Some behind.
I snarled and veered left onto a narrow deer path. Zach followed without hesitation. The terrain rose sharply, forcing our muscles to burn.
A rogue lunged from the shadows ahead.
Zach hit it midair, the crack of bones echoing like gunfire. He didn't stop—just ran on, fur streaked with blood that wasn't his.
We climbed until the air thinned, our breaths fogging harder with every stride. Snow clung to the high branches here, dripping in cold beads onto our backs. Somewhere far below, the rogues' pursuit faltered—but it didn't stop.
⸻
Twilight bled across the sky by the time we broke from the treeline.
The Eastern Ridge rose before us—peaks shrouded in mist, their silhouettes like the spines of sleeping beasts. At its base, four figures waited. A tall man with silver hair and piercing blue eyes stood like an unmovable wall. Beside him, a woman with auburn hair held herself in a way that spoke of both welcome and warning. Flanking them were two young warriors with the same calm, lethal focus—like wolves who could kill before you even saw their teeth.
Blake.
Leah.
Fenric and Wulfric.
I slowed, paws digging into the earth, before shifting back. The cold air bit into my bare skin. Zita slid from my back, and Bri dismounted Zach, her legs trembling but her eyes steady.
Zach shifted last, his chest heaving, sweat and frost in his hair.
"Luna," Blake greeted, voice low and even, like a tide that could turn into a storm. "We got your message. The border's sealed. You're safe here."
"Not yet," I said, eyes drifting to the dark horizon. "Lucian is coming. This is only the beginning."
Blake's jaw tightened. "Then we'll be ready."
Fenric and Wulfric exchanged a brief glance, their silent understanding as sharp as drawn steel. Leah moved to Bri, offering her hand and a smile edged with quiet strength.
But the scent of blood still lingered on the wind.
We had made it.
Yet safety was not sanctuary.
This was only the next chapter in the war to come.
⸻