On the second night, Sarah noticed the medallion around my neck when it slipped out from under my shirt.
"That's beautiful," she said. "Where did you get it?"
I quickly tucked it back in. "It was my mother's."
"The symbol looks familiar," she mused. "Like something from an old pack, but I can't remember which one."
"It's not important," I said quickly, not wanting to reveal too much.
But Thomas was watching me with narrowed eyes, like he was putting pieces together. I made a mental note to be more careful. Smart wolves might recognize the Silver Moon symbol, and I couldn't risk word spreading about where I was heading.
On the morning of our third day together, we reached a river that marked the border of Nightshade Pack territory.
"This is it," Sarah said excitedly. "We made it!"
But as we approached the border, wolves emerged from the trees on the other side. They were large and alert, clearly border patrol. The one in front, a massive brown wolf with battle scars, shifted to human form.
"State your business," he called across the river.
"We're messengers from Creek Stone Pack," Thomas called back. "We have a letter for Alpha Ezra."
"And you?" The guard's eyes fixed on me. "What's your business here?"
This was it. The moment where I either gained sanctuary or got turned away. I pulled out the medallion and held it up so the guard could see it, even from across the river.
"I'm seeking sanctuary under the old alliance," I called out. "Helena sent me."
The guard's eyes widened when he saw the medallion. He said something to his companions, and they all looked shocked. Finally, he nodded.
"Cross the river slowly. All three of you. No sudden movements."
We waded across, the cold water reaching up to our waists. On the other side, the guards surrounded us, though they didn't seem hostile so much as cautious.
"What's your name?" the lead guard asked me.
"Nessa Gray," I said quietly.
He stared at me for a long moment, then gestured to one of his companions. "Take the Creek Stone messengers to the pack house. I'll escort this one personally to the Alpha."
"Why does she need a special escort?" Thomas asked, protective.
"Because," the guard said, still staring at me with something like awe, "if that medallion is real and she's who I think she is, then Alpha Ezra will want to meet her immediately."
Sarah and Thomas were pulled away by other guards, both of them looking back at me with confusion and concern. I gave them what I hoped was a reassuring smile, though I felt anything but reassured myself.
The lead guard shifted back to wolf form and gestured for me to follow. I had no choice but to shift too, revealing my distinctive silver fur. I heard gasps from the other guards, confirming that they recognized what I was.
We ran through Nightshade Pack territory, past patrol markers and through forests that were clearly well-maintained and protected. Other wolves appeared occasionally, stopping to stare at me with wide eyes before quickly moving out of our way.
Word was spreading fast. The silver wolf had arrived.
Finally, we emerged from the forest into a large clearing where an impressive pack house stood. It was built from wood and stone, large but not ostentatious like Silverwood's had been. It looked strong and welcoming at the same time, which felt appropriate for what I'd heard about The Nightshade.
The guard shifted back to human form, and I did the same. My new clothes had survived the shift, I was getting better at controlling that aspect of my transformation.
"Wait here," the guard said, then disappeared into the pack house.
I stood in the clearing, very aware of eyes watching me from windows and doorways. Pack members were gathering, whispering to each other, pointing at me. I pulled my hood up, suddenly self-conscious about my silver-streaked hair.
The door to the pack house opened again, and the guard emerged followed by a man who could only be the Alpha.
Ezra Blackwood was tall and powerfully built, with dark blonde hair and the most striking green eyes I've ever seen. He moved with the controlled grace of a trained warrior, and power radiated from him in waves that made my wolf take notice. He was younger than I expected, maybe mid-twenties, but he carried himself with the authority of someone much older.
He stopped a few feet away from me, studying my face intently. I met his gaze, refusing to look down like I've been trained to do my whole life. Something in his expression shifted, surprise, maybe, or respect.
"You're carrying a Silver Moon medallion," he said, his voice deep and measured. "And Helena sent you. May I see it?"
I pulled out the medallion and held it up. Ezra stepped closer, examining it carefully. His fingers brushed mine as he lifted the medallion to see it better, and I felt a strange jolt of energy at the contact. His eyes snapped to mine, and I saw that he felt it too.
"It's authentic," he said, releasing the medallion and stepping back. "I've only seen one other like it, worn by Alpha Rylan Silver Moon when I was a boy." His expression grew somber. "I'm sorry for your loss. The massacre was a tragedy that should never have happened."
"You knew my family?" I asked, surprised.
"My father knew them. He spoke often of their honor and integrity. When news of the massacre reached us, he mourned deeply." Ezra gestured toward the pack house. "Please, come inside. We have much to discuss."
He led me into the pack house, past curious pack members who whispered as we passed. We went to what appeared to be his office, a comfortable room with a large desk, bookshelves, and windows overlooking the forest.
"Sit," he said, gesturing to a chair before taking a seat across from me. "Tell me your story. Start from the beginning."