Miles away, Misery moved through a barren stretch of land, her feet dragging with exhaustion. Each step felt like a monumental effort, her body still recovering from years of stillness. The muscles in her legs burned with every movement, but she refused to stop.
The healer’s words echoed in her mind: Find Eryon. He is your only hope of finding your child.
The world around her had changed in ways she hadn’t anticipated. The forests she once knew had been replaced by gnarled, twisted trees, their branches bare and sharp. The air carried the faint scent of ash and blood, remnants of battles fought long after her time. The werewolf world had grown harsher, more unforgiving, and Misery found herself ill-prepared for its dangers.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a rustling sound nearby. She froze, her senses sharpening as she scanned the underbrush. A low growl reached her ears, and her heart raced as a pair of yellow eyes appeared in the shadows. A rogue wolf emerged, its fur matted and its teeth bared.
Misery took a shaky step back, her hands raising instinctively. The wolf lunged without hesitation, and she barely managed to sidestep its attack. Her claws slashed out, raking across its side, but the effort left her winded. The wolf snarled, its movements more feral than calculated.
Summoning the last of her strength, Misery delivered a desperate blow that sent the rogue sprawling. It growled one final time before slinking away, defeated but not dead. Misery leaned heavily against a tree, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.
She wiped sweat from her brow, her silver eyes scanning the horizon. Every encounter like this chipped away at her already fragile body, but she couldn’t afford to stop. Somewhere out there, her daughter was waiting for her.
As she pressed on, faint traces of Eryon’s scent reached her nose. The familiar warmth of it brought a flicker of hope to her chest. The trail was old, barely discernible, but it was enough to guide her forward.
Memories of Eryon filled her mind: the way he had fought for their family, the gentleness in his amber eyes despite his strength.
“I’ll find you,” she whispered into the cold air. “And together, we’ll find our child.”
The road ahead was treacherous, but Misery’s resolve was unshakable. She would face whatever dangers lay in her path. She had to—for her child, for Eryon, and for all the time they have lost.