The wind of New Mexico bit into Nova's skin, cold, sharp, and clean. A stark contrast to the suffocating darkness of the place where she had been caged.
It whipped her ragged shirt against her ribs, carrying with it the resinous sting of pine and the metallic tang of fear that still clung to her like a second shadow.
Rescued from the shifter traffickers, she had learned that freedom was not a gentle release, but a brutal awakening—a tearing apart of the fragile threads that had barely kept her alive.
The chill air dragged memories from before, before the kidnappers came like phantoms, wrenching her from her pack and casting her into a world of chains and lies.
The sky stretched vast above her, scattered with stars like cold diamonds, exposing her smallness. Every rustling leaf, every shadow dancing among the pines plucked at her frayed nerves, summoning echoes of torment.
Her body ached with each breath, muscles resisting every movement. The omega brand on her hip seared—a cruel mark of the alphas who had paid to exploit her, chasing the myth of ultimate ecstasy.
She still felt the sting of needles pumping fire into her veins, her body betraying her while her soul withered in silence.
She shivered, not only from the cold.
The wind tangled her hair, stirring the tremors carved into her bones after months of subjugation. Yet, somewhere deep inside, a spark still glimmered.
Nova drew a long breath, forcing herself to take in the world: the sharp scent of pine, the earthy promise of rain, the sting of clean air in her lungs that made her cough.
Her scarred hands, pale with the faint traces of rope burns, were proof of survival.
"Lyra.." she whispered, voice quivering, reaching for the wolf within. Silence answered-an aching void where once her omega spirit had burned. "Are you still there..?"
The mountains loomed around her, jagged peaks like a predator's teeth - beautiful, but merciless. Dark ravines yawned with hidden threats.
Even through exhaustion, her senses caught the hoot of an owl, the scuttle of something darting through the undergrowth.
"Lyra, please... don't leave me alone," she breathed, praying the suppressant drugs were fading with each gust of fresh air.
A twig snapped. Her heart clenched. Her eyes darted toward the sound.
"Who's there?" she cried, voice sharp with panic, terror rising at the thought of traffickers hunting escaped omegas.
No answer. Only a faint glow through the trees—a fire.
A camp.
It could be the Midnight Pack the rescuers had spoken of... or a trap.
Her knees trembled, but Nova stepped forward, stumbling on roots tangled in the uneven ground. The wind carried the ghost of Lyra's laughter, faint but vivid, reminding her of the strength she had lost.
"Keep moving" she rasped to herself.
"You are not prey anymore.."
The glow sharpened into the flicker of flames. Voices carried on the wind-shifters. Familiar scents of earth and pine from the rescue clung in the air. A tall figure barked orders, his eyes glinting gold in the firelight.
Another turned, gaze catching hers and holding it.
Nova froze behind a boulder, her pulse hammering.
"Come out," a woman's voice called, husky but gentle, cutting through the dark.
"Friend or foe?" Nova demanded, her voice trembling but firm, her scarred hands gripping the stone.
"Friend….. if you are who I think," the woman replied, stepping forward - slender, but watchful. "You're Nova, aren't you? The one Kaelan pulled from the compound?"
"Kaelan.." Nova echoed, her voice faltering.
The name conjured the alpha striding through wreckage, pine and earth masking the reek of blood. "How do you know my name?"
"We've been watching since the rescue," the woman said softly. "I'm Jessa, of the Midnight Pack. Here, you are safe."
"Safe.." Nova let out a laugh, brittle and almost a sob. "I don't even remember what that feels like."
"You will"" Jessa promised, a faint smile touching her lips. "But first—let us care for you."
"What if this is a trap?" Nova asked, eyes scanning the shadows.
"They're always hunting escaped omegas."
"No one dares here."
The voice that answered was deep, steady, and commanding.
Kaelan Draven stepped into the firelight, towering, his presence drawing the flames tighter around him. His golden eyes pierced her, unwavering.
"No one touches you... While I stand here," he said, his voice iron and stone.
"You're the one who saved me," Nova whispered, stepping from behind the rock. "Why...?"
"Because no one deserves to live in a cage," Kaelan replied, gaze steady but not cruel. "And... because I could."
"Could what?" she asked softly, fear sparking into challenge. "Play the hero? Demand payment later?"
"No." Kaelan shook his head, his tone resolute. "You owe me nothing. ... keep walking forward."
Jessa approached, her voice like a spring breeze. "He's right, Nova. You are no longer alone. Let us show you a new beginning."
Nova lowered her scarred hands, the firelight catching the pale marks. "I don't know how to trust anyone anymore," she confessed, voice ragged. "Not after... everything."
"Then start with the smallest things,"
Kaelan answered, his voice gentler now. "Sit by the fire. Eat something. Rest. The rest... can wait."
The wind stirred, urging her forward.
Nova looked into the firelight, then raised her eyes to him.
"What if... Lyra is gone forever?" she whispered, voice breaking.
"She was never gone," Kaelan said, certainty anchoring every word.
"She's only sleeping. And she'll return when you're ready."
Nova nodded, stepping toward the fire.
Each stride was an act of defiance against her past. She was no longer the carefree girl she once had been, nor the prey they had made of her. She was a survivor—scarred, but unbroken. Ready to face what lies ahead.
Not a victim. A seeker of her own rebirth.
CHAPTER 3
The night air cloaked Nova like a heavy shroud, sharp with the scents of pine and damp earth, yet powerless to drive away the bone-deep chill that gnawed her marrow. Every breath was a reminder of her rescue—a violent wrench from the stifling cells of the shifter traffickers.
Freedom had struck like an earthquake, shattering the grim reality she had endured. The star-strewn sky stretched vast and merciless above, reflecting the abyss that threatened to swallow her whole.
Her senses-honed razor-sharp by months of torment-twitched at every stir of underbrush. Memories clawed at her rough hands, needles forced into her veins, the searing omega brand at her hip.
A rare mark, it had made her desirable and disposable in equal measure. She hugged herself tightly, knuckles white, wrists scarred, every line etched proof of her stolen autonomy.
Rescued.
The word rang hollow—a fragile promise her mind struggled to grasp.
The steelclaw Pack, led by Alpha Kaelan Draven, had torn her from hell. Whispers of him carried both awe and dread, a legend of primal wrath unleashed upon traffickers with merciless fury.
All she remembered was his scent-pine and earth, cutting through blood and terror -and his golden eyes searing into her as chaos raged.
"Lyra, where are you?" she whispered, aching for her omega wolf's voice, but silence stabbed back. A faint throb pulsed inside her chest, weak but present, as though the mountain air itself dulled the suppressant's grip.
Then came the sound—not the wind, but deliberate, heavy steps crushing needles and twigs underfoot. Her heart seized.
"Who's there?" she called, voice trembling yet defiant, terrified of traffickers still hunting escaped omegas.
Kaelan Draven emerged from the pines, a giant etched against the starry firmament. Commanding. He was forged of the wild itself, broad-shouldered, clad in dark leather that could not hide the sheer power of his frame.
He moved with a predator's grace, every step measured yet thrumming with restrained might.
His face was etched with the lines of leadership—high cheekbones, a ruthless jaw. And his golden eyes, flecked with amber, pierced her, noting every detail with a focus so intense it echoed the darkness in her own soul.
"You are safe now," he said, his gaze unyielding but not cruel—the hard truth of a warrior who understood the world's brutality.
"Safe?" Nova gave a brittle laugh, almost a sob. "I feel like prey before a predator.
There's something out there—I know it."
"Nothing moves in this forest unseen by me," Kaelan replied, eyes narrowing, voice ironclad. "You are under my protection."
From the shadows, Jessa—the woman who had helped save her-stepped forward, her tone gentle yet edged with worry. "Kaelan, she has endured too much. Give her time."
"Time is a luxury," Kaelan said, cutting her a glance. "The wind grows colder. We must move." He nodded toward the darkened forest."Shelter lies ahead."
"Where?" Nova asked, voice quivering, eyes sweeping the gloom. "I don't know if I can make it."
"A cave, not far," Kaelan answered, uncompromising. "One step at a time. You will."
"And if they come after us?" she pressed, fear rising. "They never give up on omegas."
"They won't get the chance," Kaelan said, his eyes locking onto hers, certainty burning in his tone. "I dealt with them."
His scent-pine, earth, raw authority-filled her lungs, battling her fear, settling like a dare within her chest. She felt small before him, a flicker of flame against his storm.
Yet there was a flicker of care in his gaze, sparking defiance in hers.
"Why save me?" she demanded, voice unsteady yet resolute. "What am I to you?"
"No one deserves a cage," Kaelan said, striding forward without looking back.
"And I had the power to free you."
Nova faltered, fear warring with resolve.
A distant howl tore through the night, sharp and urgent. Kaelan's head snapped up, his jaw clenched.
"What was that?" Nova gasped, scanning the darkness. "Traffickers?"
"No," Kaelan rumbled. "My pack. There's trouble. Move."
"How do I know this isn't another trap?" she shouted, stumbling after him. "I've seen promises turn into chains!"
"Then stay where you are and cower," Kaelan's voice cut sharply, though his eyes softened briefly. "Or follow me—and live."
She followed, tripping over roots in the uneven earth. Kaelan's figure loomed ahead, a beacon in the dark, terrifying yet steady.
Another howl rose, closer this time, carrying the scent of earth and command, familiar from the rescue. Jessa kept pace beside her, eyes sharp, watchful.
"Who are they?" Nova asked, breath ragged as she struggled to keep up. "Your pack?"
"Tronfang," Jessa confirmed firmly. "They fight for you, Nova. For all like you."
"But why?" she cried, eyes fixed on Kaelan.
"Why risk their lives for me?"
"Because it's right," Kaelan said, his voice low but fierce. "And because I hate traffickers more than death itself."
Nova stumbled but pressed on, each step an act of rebellion against her past. She was no longer the girl chained in darkness—though she did not yet know who she had become.
Kaelan Draven, her savior and her storm, led her through the forest, toward a future uncertain. Safety was a promise she could not yet believe in-yet one she had no choice but to chase.