My grandmother's hands were trembling as she pulled a wooden box from beneath the floorboards. Dust clung to its corners. Sigils glowed faintly beneath her fingers as she undid the latch. I'd never seen it before. Never knew she'd kept it hidden in plain sight.
"Come here," she said.
I obeyed. Always did when her voice dropped to that quiet, clipped edge.
Inside the box were five vials. Glass, stoppered with wax. Each one pulsed faintly—like they were alive. The colors weren't natural. One was deep indigo that shimmered like oil; another, thick silver that swirled like smoke in a jar. The others looked worse.
"These," she said, "are last resorts."
My mouth went dry. "What do they do?"
"Each one will change you. Temporarily. But they come at a price. Physical, magical, mental. You'll feel like you're dying before you feel better."
She placed a small velvet pouch in my hand and curled my fingers over it.
"If they catch you—"
"They won't."
"—if they do, Elara, you run. Don't fight. Don't argue. Take one of these. And run."
Her voice cracked, just barely. I didn't look at her.
She placed a kiss on my forehead. "My girl. You're all I have left. Stay free. Stay hidden."
There was a pause—small but heavy. Like she wanted to say more but didn't know how. Or didn't trust her voice to hold. Her eyes were glassy. She blinked too fast. That scared me more than anything.
I nodded, but the world felt too loud. My heart was already thudding in panic.
And then—
I felt it again.
That pull.
He was close.
Too close.
I grabbed the bag and bolted, barely hearing her yell after me. My legs moved before my mind could catch up. The forest swallowed me in seconds.
Branches lashed at my skin. The scent of pine and moss filled my lungs. But beneath it—beneath everything—was that tether pulling tighter.
It was him.
He was behind me. Somewhere. I didn't look back.
I ran until my breath came in ragged bursts, until I hit the rise of a hill that opened onto a clearing. When I turned—just once—I saw it.
My house.
Engulfed in flames.
I froze.
It didn't make sense. Why would they—?
A scream rose in my throat, but I swallowed it whole.
Hot tears blurred my vision as I stumbled deeper into the woods. My lungs burned. My legs ached. But I didn't stop.
The moment I crested the hill, my body locked up. I could feel it—him—before I even saw the figure in the clearing below. A heat low in my chest. That cursed thread tightening between my ribs.
And then he stepped into view.
The pull roared to life.
Kael.
The Alpha of the Blackfang Pack.
My breath caught. My lungs wouldn't work.
Every story my grandmother had whispered at night—the ones she thought I was too young to understand—rushed back in jagged pieces. The bloodbath. The burning. The name spoken with quiet hatred. Blackfang. The pack that hunted witches. The pack that left nothing but ash behind. They were the reason we ran. The reason I was never allowed to exist out loud.
And him—Kael. I knew his face. Knew his eyes. My grandmother kept records of every Alpha, every enforcer. She made sure I'd recognize them if they ever came close. Just in case.
Now he was here. Real. Flesh and bone. And staring straight at me.
And he was my mate?
No. No, this wasn't fate. This was a cruel joke. A mistake. A nightmare I hadn't woken from.
His eyes met mine. Bright and piercing even across the distance. He didn't move. Didn't speak.
He just looked at me.
Like he'd found something he'd been chasing all his life.
And he was beautiful—dangerously so.
I wanted to scream.
But I didn't.
I turned.
Ran.
The forest answered.
It didn't roar or quake, not like in the stories. It shifted. The ground softened under my feet. The wind bent around me. The trees whispered. I could feel the roots beneath the surface twitching, old and knowing. They didn't need spoken spells. They remembered who I was.
And they knew I needed to disappear.
I felt them stir—ancient things that lived below bark and root. The old magic that never really left. My grandmother said the forest didn't belong to any pack. That it belonged to the ones who whispered to it in silence. The ones who bled into its soil. I hadn't believed her—until now.
Behind me, Kael didn't give chase.
He just stood there. Frozen. Like the bond had stunned him into silence.
I whispered the old words under my breath, not daring to speak them aloud. My fingers curled into the signs my grandmother taught me when no one was listening. The air shimmered around me. Shadows deepened.
I vanished between the trees.
The forest closed behind me in silence.
I ran until the ache in my chest turned sharp. Until I could no longer sense him behind me. Until I was sure—truly sure—that the mate bond had been muffled, swallowed by distance and earth and magic.
Only then did I stop.
Only then did I fall to my knees, choking on breath and tears and disbelief.
I tore the pouch from around my neck. My fingers fumbled with the small glass vial.
The potion glinted in the moonlight.
My grandmother's voice echoed in my mind.
Only if you have to, Elara.
I had to.
I uncorked it.
And drank.
It burned like wildfire down my throat. My vision doubled. The world tilted. My wolf let out a soft whine deep in my chest, then went quiet.
The bond faded.
Muted. Not broken—but hidden, like breath beneath water.
The moment it dulled, I felt the silence. Not just outside me—but inside. That thread that had buzzed and burned and dragged me to the clearing—quiet now. Barely there. Like Kael had never existed. Like I had dreamed him. I wanted to throw up.
I clutched the dirt beneath me, fingers clawing the earth as if I could root myself there, as if I could beg the ground to hold me steady.
I pressed my forehead to the earth and wept. Quiet, bitter sobs.
For my grandmother, for the life I'd lost.
For the mate I couldn't allow myself to have.
And for the girl the forest just helped vanish.