Isla's POV
My paws hit the ground hard, and I'm flying.
I've never run like this before—never felt this free, this powerful, this alive. My new wolf body moves like water, leaping over fallen logs and dodging between trees without even thinking about it. The forest blurs past me in shades of green and brown, and every sense is sharper than it's ever been.
I can hear everything. Birds in the trees. Squirrels chattering. A stream flowing somewhere to my left. And behind me, far behind but getting closer, the sound of someone crashing through the underbrush.
Kieran.
My wolf snarls at the thought of him, but something else stirs too—something that feels like longing, and I hate it. I rejected the mate bond. I shattered it into a million pieces. So why can I still feel him pulling at the edges of my mind like a ghost I can't shake?
Because rejection doesn't erase what's meant to be, a voice whispers in my head. My wolf's voice. We can run, but we can't hide from our mate forever.
"He's not our mate," I growl out loud, except it comes out as a literal growl because I'm still in wolf form. "He's a bully. A monster. We want nothing to do with him."
My wolf doesn't argue, but I can feel her disagreement like an itch under my skin.
Focus, Isla. I need to focus on running, on getting as far away from Crimson Hollow Pack as possible. The bus ticket in my pocket—now somewhere back in my abandoned backpack at school—doesn't matter anymore. I can't take a bus when I'm a giant silver wolf.
So I run.
Hours pass, or maybe just minutes. Time feels weird when you're running for your life. The sun starts to sink lower in the sky, casting long shadows through the trees. My wolf body is strong, but I'm starting to feel tired. My first shift. My first run. It's all too much, too fast, and I don't even know where I'm going.
Away. That's all that matters. Away from my family who never loved me. Away from a pack that treated me like trash. Away from Kieran and those ice-blue eyes and the mate bond that makes no sense.
The trees start to thin out, and suddenly I smell something that makes my wolf pause: a border marker. Pack territory ahead.
Not Crimson Hollow. Somewhere new.
I slow down, my sides heaving as I catch my breath. Do I cross it? Going into another pack's territory without permission is dangerous—they could see me as a threat, an invader. They could attack first and ask questions later.
But going back isn't an option.
I take a deep breath and step across the invisible line.
Immediately, I feel eyes on me. Wolves. Multiple wolves, surrounding me in the trees. I can't see them yet, but I can smell them—earth and cedar and something wild.
A huge black wolf steps out from behind a tree, easily twice my size. An Alpha. His eyes glow amber, and his power presses down on me like a weight.
My wolf should submit automatically—that's what omegas do when they meet Alphas. But something strange happens. My wolf stands tall, meeting his gaze without flinching. A low growl rumbles in my chest, and I'm as surprised as the black wolf looks.
What's happening? I'm not supposed to be able to challenge an Alpha.
The black wolf shifts, his body changing smoothly from fur to skin. A man stands where the wolf was—tall, muscular, with silver-streaked black hair and kind eyes that study me carefully.
"You're on Silverpine territory," he says, his voice calm but firm. "And you're either very brave or very desperate."
I try to shift back to human form, but I don't know how. Panic floods through me. I'm stuck like this, can't speak, can't explain, can't do anything but stand here like an idiot.
The man's expression softens. "First shift?" he asks gently.
I nod my wolf head, grateful he understands.
"It's okay. Take a breath. Imagine yourself as human—your hands, your face, your body. Your wolf will listen."
I close my eyes and try. At first, nothing happens. Then, slowly, painfully, I feel my bones starting to shift again. It hurts worse than the first change, and I whimper as my body reforms into its human shape.
When I open my eyes, I'm naked and freezing and completely embarrassed. The man has already turned around, giving me privacy, and he tosses a long shirt backward without looking.
"Thank you," I whisper, my human voice feeling strange after hours of wolf silence. I pull the shirt on quickly. It hangs to my knees—big enough to be decent.
The man turns back around, and his smile is warm. "I'm Roman Ashford, Alpha of Silverpine Pack. And you are?"
"Isla," I manage. "Isla Thorne. I'm... I'm running away."
"I gathered that." Roman's eyes scan my face, and something in his expression shifts. "You're hurt."
"I'm fine," I lie automatically.
"No, you're not." He steps closer, and I flinch without meaning to. Roman stops immediately, holding his hands up. "I'm not going to hurt you, Isla. But you collapsed on my territory, and you're clearly in trouble. Let me help."
Why is he being nice? Nobody's ever just... nice to me.
"Why?" The question slips out before I can stop it.
Roman tilts his head. "Why what?"
"Why help me? You don't know me. I could be dangerous."
He laughs, but it's not mean. "You're a teenage girl who just had her first shift and ran until she couldn't run anymore. You're not dangerous. You're scared."
Tears burn my eyes, and I hate that he's right. I am scared. Terrified, actually. My whole life just exploded in the span of a few hours, and I have no idea what to do next.
"I can't go back," I whisper. "My pack... they'll force me to accept the mate bond. They'll make me—" My voice breaks.
Roman's expression darkens. "Mate bond? You found your mate today?"
I nod miserably. "The worst possible person. He's... he's been hurting me for years. Making my life hell. And then the bond snapped into place, and I rejected him, but I can still feel him somehow, and—"
"You rejected your mate?" Roman looks shocked. "That's... that takes incredible strength."
"Or incredible stupidity," I mutter. "Now I'm homeless and alone and I don't even know how to be a wolf properly."
Roman is quiet for a moment, studying me with those kind amber eyes. Then he says something that changes everything:
"You don't have to be alone. Stay here. Silverpine accepts wolves who need sanctuary."
Hope flutters in my chest, dangerous and painful. "Really?"
"Really. We're not like other packs. We take in rogues, outcasts, wolves who need a fresh start. You'll be safe here, Isla. I give you my word as Alpha."
I want to believe him so badly it hurts. But I've learned not to trust promises.
"What's the catch?" I ask suspiciously.
Roman smiles. "No catch. Just one rule: while you're here, you're under my protection. That means if your old pack comes looking for you, they'll have to go through me first."
Before I can respond, a howl echoes through the forest. My blood turns to ice.
I know that howl.
Kieran.
"He followed me," I breathe, panic rising in my throat. "He actually followed me."
Roman's expression goes hard. "The mate you rejected?"
I nod, already backing away. "I need to keep running. If he finds me—"
"You're not running anymore." Roman's voice carries Alpha command, but it's gentle. "You're safe here. Let him come. Let him see that you've found sanctuary. Let him know you're under my protection now."
Another howl, closer this time. Desperate. Anguished.
My rejected mate is hunting me through the forest, and part of me—the part that still feels the phantom pull of the shattered bond—wants to run to him instead of away.
But the part of me that remembers every cruel word, every humiliation, every moment of pain knows better.
"Make him leave," I beg Roman. "Please. I can't face him. Not yet."
Roman nods once. "Go to the pack house. My Beta will meet you there and get you settled. I'll handle this."
I stumble toward where Roman's pointing, my legs shaky and my heart pounding. Behind me, I hear Kieran burst through the treeline in wolf form—massive and black and radiating desperate energy.
"ISLA!" His voice in my mind, clear as day despite the rejection. The mate bond shouldn't work like this. I shouldn't be able to hear him.
But I can.
"Please," Kieran's mental voice cracks with emotion. "Please, just listen. I know the truth now. I know who you really are. I know what I've done. Please—"
I block him out, slamming mental walls up that I didn't even know I had.
I don't want to hear his excuses. Don't want to know what "truth" he discovered. Don't want anything to do with the boy who made my life a living nightmare.
But as I walk away, one thought keeps circling in my mind:
What truth is he talking about?