Bracken struggles to his feet, spear raised despite his injuries. Blood drips from his wounded arm, but his grip stays firm. His eyes lock on me with pure hatred.
"You killed them," he rasps. "Ashwyn. The twins. All of them."
"They came to kill us first." I step between him and Riven, blocking his path. "Drop the spear. Leave while you still can."
"And tell Varek I failed?" Bracken laughs bitterly. "He'll kill me himself."
"Then that's your problem, not mine."
He lunges. The spear thrusts forward in a wild arc. I sidestep and grab the shaft, yanking hard. His momentum carries him forward. My fist connects with his jaw before he recovers.
He crashes into the wall but doesn't drop the spear.
"Stay down," I say.
"No." He charges again, roaring.
I duck under his swing. My claws find his ribs. Flesh tears. He screams and staggers back, clutching the wound. Blood seeps between his fingers.
"This is your last warning," I tell him. "Walk away."
He swings the spear one final time. Desperate. Sloppy. I catch his wrist and twist. Bone snaps. The spear clatters to the floor.
Before he can scream, I drive my claws into his throat.
His eyes go wide. Blood bubbles from his mouth. He tries to speak but only manages a gurgle. Then his legs give out and he drops.
The room falls silent except for Riven's labored breathing behind me.
I turn. He's leaning against the wall, one hand pressed to his shoulder. Blood seeps through his fingers.
"You're still bleeding," I say.
"So are you."
I cross to him and peel his hand away from the wound. The gash is deep. I grab what's left of a torn blanket and press it against the cut. "Hold this."
He winces but obeys.
I check the wound across his ribs next. The skin is split open, exposing muscle beneath. "This needs stitches."
"We don't have thread."
"I know."
I clean what I can with water from our supplies. Pack herbs into the wounds. Wrap them tight with strips of fabric. His jaw clenches with each touch but he doesn't make a sound.
"We need to leave," Riven says when I finish. "They'll send more."
"I know."
"Then we should—"
"Sit down," I cut him off. "You're in no condition to make decisions."
His eyes flash. "I can—"
"You can barely stand." I push him back down. "So sit. Stay quiet. Let me think."
He opens his mouth to argue.
"I said quiet."
The command in my voice stops him cold. Something shifts in his expression. Recognition, maybe. Or acceptance.
I gather what we can carry. Weapons from the dead. Water. Dried meat that survived the fight. Every movement is efficient. Practiced.
"Arida," Riven tries again.
"Not now."
"But—"
"Do you trust me?"
The question hangs between us. His gaze holds mine. Then he nods once.
"Good." I help him to his feet. "Then follow my lead and don't slow me down."
We make it to the doorway when he stops. His hand catches my wrist.
"Thank you."
I look at him. "For what?"
"For fighting." His voice is rough. "For not letting them take me."
"You're my mate." The words feel strange on my tongue. "I'm not losing you too."
Something shifts in his expression. Not quite a smile, but close.
I pull free of his grip and we step outside. The forest is dark. Silent. Waiting.
"Which way?" Riven asks.
"East."
"That's—"
"I said don't slow me down." I start walking. "That includes talking."
He falls quiet.
We move through the shadows. Every step takes us farther from the shelter. From the bodies. From everything familiar.
My senses stay sharp. Alert. Tracking sounds. Scents. Movement in the darkness.
Nothing yet.
But they'll come. Varek will send more wolves. Stronger ones. And we need distance before that happens.
Riven stumbles. His hand shoots out to grip a tree trunk but his legs buckle.
I grab his arm before he hits the ground. "When was the last time you ate?"
"Yesterday. Maybe the day before." He straightens, jaw tight. "It doesn't matter."
"It matters if you collapse."
"I won't collapse."
"You just did." I shove a strip of dried meat at him. "Eat."
He stares at the food like it's a challenge. "We should save it."
"For what? Your funeral?" I push it closer to his chest. "You're no good to me dead. Eat the damn meat."
His eyes flash. Anger mixed with something else. Pride, maybe. "I don't need you to take care of me."
"I'm not taking care of you." I let go of his arm. Step back. "I'm keeping you functional. There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Yes." I turn and start walking again. "One means I care if you live. The other means I need you alive. Figure out which one this is."
We push forward. Minutes blur into an hour. Then two. The forest thickens around us. Dense. Protective.
My back screams where the wound reopened. My legs burn. But I don't stop. Can't stop.
Riven's breathing grows labored. Each step costs him more than the last. But he doesn't complain. Doesn't ask to rest.
The sky begins to lighten. Dawn creeps through the canopy in thin gray streaks. Not enough to see clearly. Just enough to know night is ending.
"Your mate," Riven says suddenly. His voice cuts through the predawn quiet. "Sorin. What was he like?"
I stop walking. Turn to face him. "Why?"
"Because you loved him." He meets my gaze without flinching. "And because I want to know what kind of male names a female Alpha."
The question catches me off guard. Most wolves wouldn't dare ask. Wouldn't want to know about the mate who came before.
"He was brave," I say finally. "Stupidly brave. The kind that gets you killed."
"But you loved him for it."
"I did." The admission feels like betrayal and truth at once. "He believed I deserved to lead. That strength mattered more than tradition."
"He was right."
"He was dead within hours of saying it." My voice hardens. "His father blessed our union at sunset. By midnight, Varek's men were beating him to death on our bedroom floor."
Riven is quiet for a moment. Then he says, "I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry." I turn back to the path. "Be angry. Varek took everything from me. My mate. My title. My life."
"And now?"
"Now I take it back." I start walking again. "All of it."