On the second night, I approached the location my mother had marked. It was a small cottage at the edge of a pack's territory, smoke rising from the chimney. Someone was home.
I circled the cottage cautiously, extending my senses. One person inside, male, older. No immediate threat that I could detect. But approaching strangers was still dangerous.
I decided to be bold. I walked up to the front door and knocked.
The sounds inside stopped. Footsteps approached, and the door opened to reveal an elderly man with grey hair and sharp blue eyes. He looked me up and down, his expression unreadable.
"Can I help you?" he asked, his voice cautious.
"I'm looking for someone named Marcus," I said. "A friend of the Silver Moon Pack."
The man's eyes widened, and for a moment I thought he might slam the door in my face. Instead, he grabbed my arm and pulled me inside quickly, looking around outside before shutting the door.
"Are you insane?" he hissed. "You don't say that name out loud anymore. Victor Strand has spies everywhere."
"So you're Marcus?" I asked.
"I am. And you're either very brave or very stupid to come here asking about the Silver Moon." He studied my face intently. "Though you have the look of them. The eyes especially. Who are you, girl?"
"My name is Nessa Gray. My mother was…"
"Lyra," he breathed, sinking into a chair. "You're Lyra's daughter. The baby who disappeared. By the Moon Goddess, we thought you died in the massacre."
"I was hidden," I said. "Left at the Silverwood Pack borders. I only learned the truth recently."
Marcus gestured for me to sit. "Tell me everything."
So I did. I told him about growing up in Silverwood, about the rejection, about Helena's tea awakening my powers. I told him about Victor's hunt and my journey west. He listened intently, his expression growing darker.
"Victor's obsessed with eliminating any Silver Moon survivors," Marcus said when I finished. "He knows how dangerous your bloodline could be if someone learned to fully harness its power. That's why he's offering such a large bounty." He stood and went to a cabinet, pulling out a wanted poster with my face on it, or what someone thought was my face based on descriptions.
"Five thousand dollars now. Dead or alive."
Seeing my own face on a wanted poster made it real in a way it hadn't been before. I was being hunted like an animal.
"You can't stay here long," Marcus continued. "It's not safe for either of us. But I can help you." He pulled out a pack and started filling it with supplies, food, water, a proper knife, matches. "Take this. And here…" He handed me a small leather pouch. "...Money. Not much, but enough to buy what you need in human towns."
"I can't take your money," I protested.
"Yes, you can. Your mother saved my life once, pulled me out of a river when I was drowning as a pup. I owed her a debt I never got to repay. Let me help her daughter instead." He pressed the pouch into my hands. "Besides, you'll need it. The journey to Nightshade Pack is still two weeks on foot, longer if you're avoiding main roads."
"You know about The Nightshade?"
"Everyone who was allied with Silver Moon knew about them. Ezra Blackwood's father swore an oath of friendship to your grandfather. When Ezra became Alpha, he honored that oath. If you can reach him, he'll protect you." Marcus pulled out a small silver medallion on a chain. "Take this too. It bears the Silver Moon symbol. Show it to Ezra and he'll know you're legitimate."
The medallion was beautiful, a crescent moon surrounded by stars, all carved in intricate detail. I slipped it around my neck, tucking it under my shirt.
"Thank you," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "For helping me. For remembering my mother."
"Lyra was one of the finest wolves I ever knew," Marcus said softly. "Brave, kind, fierce when she needed to be. If you're anything like her, the Silver Moon bloodline will survive."
I stayed at Marcus's cottage for a few hours, eating real food and resting on an actual bed for the first time in over a week. He told me stories about my mother, about the Silver Moon Pack in its glory days, about the friends and allies who'd been lost in the massacre.
"Victor didn't just kill your pack," Marcus explained. "He destroyed the entire concept of what you represented. Silver Moon believed in equality among ranks, in treating omegas with dignity, in choosing merit over birthright. That kind of thinking threatened the traditional power structures. A lot of Alphas secretly supported Victor's massacre because they saw Silver Moon as a threat to their authority."
"So I'm not just running from one enemy," I said. "I'm running from an entire system that wants my family dead."
"Essentially, yes," Marcus said grimly. "But that system is starting to crack. Younger Alphas like Ezra are pushing for reforms, for treating lower ranks better. Your survival could be a symbol of hope for those who want change. Or a target for those who want things to stay the same."
Before I left, Marcus gave me one more gift, a simple hooded cloak that would help me blend in and hide my distinctive silver-streaked hair.
"Travel carefully," he said at the door. "Trust your instincts. Your mother's instincts saved her many times. Yours will too."
I hugged him impulsively, this old man who had shown me more kindness than almost anyone in my life. Then I set off into the night with my new supplies and renewed determination.