Discover Novels Library Profile

Beyond redemption - Chapter 24


Chapter 24

Kora’s POV

The forest seemed to grow denser the further we went. The air, thick with the smell of damp earth and pine, felt heavier, almost suffocating. Despite the exhaustion in my legs and the ache in my shoulders, I kept my pace steady. We couldn’t afford to rest—not now. The stronghold was still a long way off, and time was a luxury we didn’t have.

Edward was ahead, his dark silhouette barely visible in the shadows of the trees. I could see him every few seconds, the occasional flash of his profile catching the moonlight. His steady gait was a contrast to the tension that vibrated through the air. Luka was at the back with the others, ensuring our rear guard was covered. The rest of the pack, silent and focused, moved in a tight formation, each person more aware of their surroundings than the next.

The silence between us was almost deafening. No one spoke—not because we didn’t have anything to say, but because words felt pointless. What was there to say? We were on the brink of something far larger than any of us, and no amount of reassurance could ease the weight of that reality.

I had never been good at this kind of quiet, the kind that seeped into your bones and made everything feel far too heavy. I was used to the noise, the distractions. But there was none of that now. It was just the distant hum of the forest, the sound of our footsteps, and the occasional crack of a twig breaking underfoot.

I kept my eyes on Edward, not just to keep track of his position, but because I needed to know what he was thinking. What the plan was. But every time I tried to read him, I came up short. His expression was unreadable, his jaw tight, and there was a shadow in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

I’d seen him in battle before—his focus unwavering, his tactics brilliant. But this was different. This time, we were on the move, not just to fight but to survive. And I could tell that survival was weighing more heavily on him than the fight itself.

I caught up with him, falling into step beside him. His eyes flickered to me, but he didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure what I expected him to say—maybe that he was worried about what was coming, or maybe something more reassuring. But there was nothing. Just silence. We walked side by side, both of us feeling the strain of the night, yet neither of us willing to break it.

Minutes passed, and then hours. The moon was high now, casting an ethereal glow over the forest floor, but there was no relief in sight. The air was colder here, the trees taller, their branches thick and twisted, blocking out much of the light.

“We should stop for a moment,” Luka’s voice finally broke through the quiet, his tone low but firm. He was close behind, his figure emerging from the darkness. “We can’t keep moving like this. People are getting exhausted.”

Edward didn’t turn around, his gaze fixed ahead. “We keep moving,” he said flatly, his voice lacking the usual conviction. “We’re almost there.”

Luka opened his mouth to argue, but Edward raised a hand, silencing him with a gesture. “We can’t afford to rest. We don’t know how much longer we have.”

It was true. We didn’t know when Aaron’s forces would catch up, or if they were already on our trail. The risk of stopping was too high. We couldn’t allow ourselves to grow complacent—not even for a moment.

Luka fell silent, but the unease didn’t leave his face. I could see the concern in his eyes, and I shared it. The longer we went without a break, the harder it would be to keep up the pace. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold out either, but I wasn’t about to let anyone see it. If I showed weakness, it would be contagious, and we didn’t have time for that.

I glanced at the others. They were all trying to keep their exhaustion at bay, but it was starting to show. The exhaustion, the fear. The constant pressure of not knowing what was waiting for us at the stronghold. The unknown was a powerful thing, and it had a way of eating away at you, making you question everything.

“I don’t know how much longer we can keep this up,” I muttered to Edward, my voice quiet.

He didn’t respond immediately, but when he did, his voice was colder than before. “Then you’ll have to keep going anyway.”

The words stung, more than I expected, but I swallowed them down. I couldn’t let the frustration show. Not now. Not when we were so close.

The silence stretched between us again, but this time it was different. There was an edge to it, a tension that hadn’t been there before. Something was wrong, I could feel it in my bones. I wasn’t sure if it was just the weight of the journey, the exhaustion, or if something darker was ahead. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched.

My instincts flared, and I slowed my pace, my hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at my belt. I scanned the shadows, my eyes darting from tree to tree, trying to catch any movement. But there was nothing—just the same quiet, the same oppressive stillness. I wasn’t sure if it was just my imagination, but something felt off.

“Edward,” I said softly, my voice steady but low. He turned to look at me, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper, as though speaking too loudly might give away our position.

“I don’t know,” I replied, my senses heightened. “I just feel like we’re being watched.”

His eyes narrowed, and he stopped walking, listening. The others followed suit, the tension building as we all stood still in the dark, the only sounds our breathing and the occasional rustle of leaves. I felt my heart racing, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up as I strained to hear anything, anything that might suggest we weren’t alone.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, the softest sound—a crackling of leaves, barely perceptible, but enough to make my pulse spike.

I tensed, my grip on my dagger tightening. “There’s something out there,” I said, my voice barely audible.

Edward didn’t hesitate. He signaled for the pack to fan out, his eyes scanning the surrounding trees. “Stay alert,” he commanded in a low, urgent voice. “We don’t know who or what it is.”

The pack moved into position, their bodies blending with the darkness, their senses sharpened. Luka was beside me in an instant, his eyes sharp, his body tense. We were ready, every instinct screaming at us to prepare for whatever came next.

Then, without warning, a figure emerged from the shadows.

It was a man—no, a wolf, but standing on two legs, his posture almost human. His eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger as he stepped into the dim light, his movements fluid, unnervingly calm. He didn’t look like a rogue wolf; he looked like something far worse—something more dangerous.

He was dressed in dark leather armor, his face partially obscured by a mask, but his eyes were unmistakable. I recognized them.

Aaron.




Chapter 25

Kora’s POV

The moment Aaron stepped into the dim light, I felt the world shift beneath me. There was no time for questions, no time to process what was happening. Every fiber of my being screamed that we needed to act, but the weight of his presence rooted me to the spot. He stood there, eyes gleaming with an unsettling calmness, as if he had all the time in the world. It made my stomach churn, a quiet dread settling in my chest.


“Did you really think you could run forever?” Aaron’s voice sliced through the night air like a cold wind, smooth and taunting. It was a voice I had come to associate with cruelty, with power. A voice that had once made me tremble in fear, but now... now it made my blood boil.


I gripped the dagger in my hand tighter, readying myself for whatever was coming. Edward shifted beside me, his eyes locked on Aaron, but he didn’t make a move. The pack was spread out behind us, poised and ready, their eyes scanning the surroundings, their bodies tense, as if waiting for a signal.


I couldn’t understand why Aaron was here. If he was hunting us, why not just attack? Why this show of power? Why stand there, as though he were a predator playing with his prey?


“Where are your manners, Kora?” Aaron continued, taking a slow step forward. The moonlight glinted off his mask, giving him an even more unsettling, ghostly appearance. “No ‘hello’? No ‘how have you been?’”


I gritted my teeth, trying to suppress the anger rising in me. “What do you want, Aaron?” My voice came out sharp, but I couldn’t help it. Anger was the only thing keeping the fear at bay.


“Oh, what I want...” He paused, glancing around at the pack, his lips curling into a smirk. “That’s an interesting question, isn’t it? Because what I want, Kora, is everything. You. The stronghold. Everything.”


His words hit me like a blow to the chest. The stronghold. He knew where we were headed. He must have been following us for longer than I had realized.


“I’m not giving you that,” Edward’s voice was calm but edged with something darker, something primal. His stance was rigid, his muscles coiled like a spring, ready to spring into action.


Aaron tilted his head slightly, considering Edward’s words. “You don’t have much choice, do you? I know what you’re doing, and I know you’re almost out of time. You’re running out of places to hide, out of people to trust.”


He took another step forward, his eyes flicking over the pack. I could see the uncertainty in their gazes, the fear they were doing their best to hide. It wasn’t just Aaron’s presence that terrified them; it was the fact that they knew he had the power to make good on his words.


“We’re not running,” I said, taking a step forward, though my heart was hammering in my chest. “We’re fighting. And we’re going to win.”


Aaron chuckled softly, a low, menacing sound that echoed through the quiet forest. “You think you can win? You think you can defeat me and take back what’s mine? You’re naive, Kora. You’ve always been naive.”


My eyes narrowed. “You’ve been following us this entire time. You’re not going to stop us.”


“Oh, I’m not stopping you, sweetheart,” he said with a wicked grin. “I’m just making sure you understand who’s in control. Who’s really calling the shots here.”


He took another step, and I could feel the air around us thicken, as though the very forest was holding its breath. My heart pounded in my chest as I watched him, trying to read him, trying to figure out his next move. The tension in the air was palpable, and I knew it wouldn’t take much for things to break.


“I don’t have time for your games, Aaron,” Edward said, his voice cutting through the heavy silence. “We’re done playing. You and me, right now. No more posturing.”


Aaron’s eyes gleamed, and for a moment, I saw something shift in them—a flicker of something, maybe amusement or perhaps a hint of respect. “You’re brave, Edward,” he said quietly, his tone suddenly almost casual. “But that won’t save you.”


Before anyone could react, Aaron’s figure blurred, his speed almost too much to follow. In an instant, he was standing between Edward and me, his body mere inches away, his hand reaching out with deadly precision.


I moved without thinking, lunging at him, but Aaron was faster. He grabbed my wrist with an inhuman strength and twisted it, forcing me to my knees. My breath caught in my throat as pain shot up my arm, but I didn’t give in. I clenched my teeth, refusing to show weakness.


“You really think you can take me down?” Aaron’s voice was a low whisper, full of mockery. “You’re nothing.”


I felt a surge of power in my chest, a flash of energy I couldn’t explain. Before I even realized what I was doing, I forced myself to break free, twisting out of his grip with a speed I didn’t know I had.


He looked surprised for a split second, but the smirk returned almost immediately. “I see. So, you’ve found your claws, huh?” He raised his hand in the air, and I barely had time to react before a blast of force hit me in the chest, sending me sprawling to the ground.


The wind was knocked from my lungs, but I pushed myself up, gasping for breath. The others had moved in, but Aaron had already turned his attention to them, his eyes flicking to each of the pack members like he was sizing them up.


“We’ll do this the hard way then,” Aaron said, his voice laced with venom.


A low growl rumbled in Luka’s chest as he stepped forward, his posture defensive. The others mirrored his movements, positioning themselves between Aaron and me, preparing for whatever came next.


“You don’t have to do this, Aaron,” Luka said, his voice calm, but there was a tension in his words that spoke of the danger we were in. “We don’t want to fight you.”


Aaron’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “Oh, but I do. You don’t get to walk away from this. None of you do.”


In an instant, he moved again, faster than I could follow, and before anyone could react, he grabbed Luka by the throat, lifting him off the ground with terrifying ease. Luka gasped for air, his fingers scrambling at Aaron’s hand as he struggled to break free.


“Luka!” I shouted, feeling my heart drop in my chest.


Edward leaped forward, but Aaron spun, tossing Luka aside like a ragdoll. He slammed into a tree with a sickening thud, and I could hear the pained groan that escaped his lips.


“I warned you,” Aaron sneered, turning his cold gaze back to us. “This is your last chance to walk away.”


But there was no way we could back down now. Not after everything we had sacrificed to get this far.


I stood tall, despite the tremor in my legs. “We’re not backing down, Aaron. Not now, not ever.”


Aaron’s eyes flashed, the cold fire in them burning with a fury I hadn’t seen before. “Then you’ll all die.”


And just like that, the battle was upon us.





Chapter 26

Kora’s POV

The world narrowed into sound and motion. Aaron’s shout, a low, terrible thing that seemed to vibrate the very air, broke the moment into pieces. Leaves shook as if a storm had passed through, and then everything moved at once — men and wolves exploding forward, the ground stamping with a rhythm like a warning drum.


Pain still tinged my side where Aaron had struck me earlier, but adrenaline sluiced through that ache and buried it under a white-hot focus. Luka’s body thudded against the earth, a sick, ugly sound that broke my concentration for a second. When I looked at him, the blood on his mouth made my vision go sharp with something like fury.


“Get him,” Edward barked. He was a dark silhouette of motion, a living weapon. Every step he took seemed to pull the shadows tighter around him. He was on Aaron before I could think, anger in his veins, but Aaron moved like a ghost — slipping, parrying, twisting — and for a terrifying second I saw the apex of his skill: a predator who knew how to use fear like a blade.


I lunged. There was no graceful thinking anymore, only muscle memory and the need to protect what mattered. I drove my dagger at the side of a man trying to flank Edward and felt the blade sink in with bone-deep clarity. He howled and dropped, and the sound of him collapsing faded into the greater cacophony.


Somewhere to my right, Mara’s voice cried out — not from fear but from something closer to command. She’d been with us in the camp, keeping watch over the wounded, and now she moved like a hawk, weaving among fighters to give the injured a quick stabilizing touch before pushing them on. Her presence steadied me; in the chaos, she was a reminder that we weren’t just panicked animals. We were a pack with purpose.


Aaron’s laughter cut through. It was too calm, too certain. “You think this will stop me?” he called, as if the whole thing was a theater and we were merely players on a stage he’d arranged. I spit back a word I won’t say to anyone but the wind; the throat tightness behind it felt like proof of how much I’d been changed by this life.


He drew back and then slammed forward, faster than I thought possible. Edward met him like two tides crashing. Sparks flew from fists meeting leather and bone. I saw Edward’s hand flash to Aaron’s throat briefly, and for one breath we might have ended it — but Aaron twisted and the movement spat Edward off balance. He staggered, and for a moment I saw real vulnerability slice his features. It was like watching sunlight hit glass: too bright and suddenly dangerous.


Panic is a treacherous thing. It tries to wedge itself into the spaces between thought and movement. I pushed it away with every muscle I owned. If I panicked, Luka’s breath might stutter out and never come back. If I panicked, Edward might fall and not get back up. If I panicked, the baby inside me — this small heartbeat that had become a tether to everything — might feel the tremor and retreat into silence. So I breathed. I counted. One strike, another block, a roll to the left, a boot to push an enemy's knee out from under him. Survival is rarely pretty.


Aaron was slowing no one else; he wanted to cut us down. Two of the rogue wolves tried to flank from the rear, eyes wild and greedy. I intercepted them, the first planting a fist against my stomach. His breath smelled like ash and alcohol and cheap thrill. I shoved with the blade, and his weight fell forward; he hit the dirt, and his eyes rolled. The second wolf lunged with a broken spear, and I ducked — my shoulder slammed into his ribs, and I felt a satisfying crunch. He made a sound like a child and rolled away, clutching his side. He was alive, but every movement he made told me he wouldn’t be getting up quickly.


Edward’s voice cut across the battlefield, pitched low but carrying like a bell. “Hold the line! Protect the wounded! If you see Aaron, you go with everything you have!”


It felt as if the world was compressing toward a single point: Aaron. Not because he was the only threat, but because everything else seemed to orbit him like gravity. He had a presence like that, a command that made knives and ropes feel like options. He was the kind of man who could make a council of Alphas tremble if he bent his mind to it.


And then — the shift.


It started small: a metallic ring, a sound that could have been anything. Then a shadow on the perimeter moved with the intention of an arrow. I looked and found a figure moving through the trees toward the edge of the camp — a silhouette I didn’t recognize, lean, deliberate. A sideways glance told me a few others had noticed too. Someone on Aaron’s flank? An ally? A new chaos-vector?


My mouth went dry. If reinforcements arrived for Aaron, this could turn. If they were ours, we had a chance to press and cut him off. We couldn’t afford new variables. Not now.


The man near the perimeter unfurled himself into the light and someone behind me drew a breath like they’d seen a ghost: it was Elena — Edward’s hunter-ally from the east, the one who’d scouted for hours before we left the stronghold. She moved with nervous grace, bow drawn, eyes cold. When she shot, the arrow flew clean and took a rogue through the shoulder. He crumpled. Relief pulsed through me like heat.


But Aaron didn’t flinch. He smiled — that slow, terrible thing — and then he cocked his head. “You brought friends,” he observed almost politely, as if making a note in a ledger. He lashed out and hit both Edward and me with a blast of force that slammed into our chests like a wave and sent us reeling back.


My knees slammed into the earth; grit bit into my palms as I pushed myself up. The fall had no meaning but pain, and pain told me I was still breathing. For a second I gasped, struggling to catch air, then remembered the bareness of the thing inside me. I cupped my stomach as if to hold my child in place and felt a flutter — soft and sweet and somehow defiant. That kick steadied me more than anything Edward had ever done with a promise.


We fought until our side walls were slick with rain and sweat and the copper tang of blood. I don’t know who took down whom at what moment. I remember a hand — Edward’s — catching my wrist, hauling me away from a spear that should have pierced my side. I remember Luka groaning, then laughing through the agony of it like a bastard who’d rather die than show weakness. I remember Mara cursing softly and stitching fingers with a speed that made me want to bow.


At some point, Aaron’s face came close to mine. He moved with the arrogance of a god. His breath smelled like winter and danger and old money. Up close, his eyes were wrong — too sharp, as if he’d seen too much and decided he’d liked it. “You’re brave,” he said, and it felt like a prayer to him.


“You’re a coward,” I spat. “Hiding behind others’ loyalty like it makes you strong.”


He smiled. “Loyalty is currency. And you, Kora... are expensive.”


His hand coiled like a snake toward me, and my teeth found his wrist, instinctively, with a savage little mercy that drew his blood. He staggered, and that fragment of surprise was enough. Edward moved in like a storm and knocked him off his feet. For one breath — one glorious heartbeat — it felt as if the world could be tilted.


Aaron didn’t die. He never did at that point. Instead, he snarled, something like fear spiky in his voice now. He shot his eyes toward the trees and there came a sudden rush of figures — not all of them his; some looked like wanderers, others like wolves who’d once served a different Alpha. The confusion did not waste Aaron; he used it. With a twist and a howl, he seized the moment and evaporated into the tree line.


“No,” I hissed, lunging, but he was gone like smoke.


Edward cursed, the sound raw and jagged. He turned, scanning, fury bending his features carved in stone. The pack gave chase, but the night swallowed Aaron like it always did. He moved like he’d been born to vanish. He left the space reeking of malice and unfinished threat.


We won a field full of bodies and a momentary victory — a wound in his campaign, but not the fatal cut we’d hoped for. There were groans and curses and the low, wet sound of men collapsing to the earth. Mara ran through the wounded, patching what she could, her face drawn but concentrated, the way a surgeon looks when the world is a broken rib and her hands are the only thing standing between life and silence.


Edward finally found me, and for a while, he didn’t speak. He only stooped and took me by the shoulders, his callused hands steady and absolutely alive with something that could have been gratitude or fear or the raw, unspoken relief of having something he’d feared lost found again.


“You okay?” he asked, his voice barely a rasp.


I let a quiet laugh escape me, the sound rough. “Alive,” I said. The words were small, like stepping stones across a river. “You?”


He nodded, then met my gaze. There were hollows under his eyes and dust in his hair and something like shame tucked into the lines of his mouth. “We bought time,” he said finally. “Not freedom.”


I touched his cheek with the backs of my fingers. Blood streaked across his knuckles where he’d torn some skin in the fight. It left a streak on my hand and I didn’t care. “We’ll take whatever time we get,” I said. “We’ll use the time to build something that can stop him for good.”


He closed his eyes for a second and then opened them. The fierceness returned like an old coat pulled tight. “We need to find where he goes,” he said. “We need to chase him into the places he thinks are safe.”


That desperation in his voice made my resolve harden like iron. I felt the baby move again, a soft, fierce little kick that made me smile through the exhaustion. I had a new kind of fury now; it wasn’t just mine. It curled like a flame inside me — maternal and scorching.


Around us, the pack rallied. Men who’d been wounded began to stand, clinging to the sides of battle like stubborn weeds. Spirits didn’t die so easily here; they bent and were reset to the same pitch. Orders rose and were met. The night, which had been a thick, suffocating thing, started to clear as if the air itself was shaken awake by our refusal to surrender.


We’d lived through the battle. We were battered. We were not, however, broken.


And Aaron had run. That meant tomorrow would be different. He’d come at us with another strategy or recruit more hands, or he’d strike where we least expected. But running meant he cared enough to avoid dying. That gave us a thread to follow.


Edward leaned close so his breath ghosted over my ear. “Sleep when you can,” he said. “We move at dawn.”


I kept my eyes on his. He was not the same man who’d once watched me from a distance at a council hall. He’d been honed by war now. There was something like love in the way he guarded me — not because he possessed me, but because he had chosen to stand with me.


I laid back against the tree and felt the earth press me into its cold, steady patience. Exhaustion rolled over me like an ocean, and I gave in to it in small, careful sips. Sleep is sometimes the most defiant thing you can do to rest when the world wants you to scramble.


As I drifted, the last thought that hovered in my mind was softer than the rage and sharper than any sword: the child inside me — their small heartbeat, was a promise. The world could twist us, bend us, tear us apart, but I will not let the

m take this future away. We had won the night, but the war had only just begun.





Chapter 27

Kora’s POV

Dawn didn’t come gently. It broke across the horizon like a blade through cloth — gold and blood-red streaks slicing apart the last veil of night. I woke before the sun rose, heart already racing, the memory of battle still clinging to my skin like smoke. Around me, the camp was quieter than it had been in days. Not silent — never silent — but hushed, the kind of hush that comes after a storm when even the birds wait to see if it’s really over.


I shifted upright, my body aching from bruises I hadn’t counted. The muscles in my arms trembled, and my ribs protested with every breath, but there was no luxury for pain. Edward had been clear: we had to move at dawn.


The pack stirred slowly, faces pale and drawn. Luka sat propped against a tree, one arm bandaged and his jaw set like stone. He caught my eye and managed a crooked grin. “Still breathing,” he said hoarsely. “Didn’t think Aaron would hit that hard.”


“Still breathing’s enough,” I answered. My voice felt thinner than usual, but steady. “We don’t get points for looking pretty.”


Luka chuckled, then winced at the pain in his chest. Mara was crouched near him, checking his stitches with swift, practiced fingers. She’d barely slept — I could see it in the shadows under her eyes — but her movements were precise and sure. She didn’t look up as she spoke. “We can’t keep fighting him like this,” she murmured. “He’ll wear us down. He knows it.”


I glanced over my shoulder where Edward stood near the edge of the clearing, his hands on his hips, scanning the treeline. He’d changed since last night — not outwardly, but in a way I could feel. The weight of what happened had settled into his bones, sharpening him even more.


“You’re right,” I told Mara quietly. “But first we have to get everyone moving.”


When I rose to my feet, Edward caught my eye and motioned me over. His voice was low, but urgent. “We’re moving west,” he said. “Two days at least to the ridge. If we can make it, there’s a safehouse the old council built — reinforced walls, food stores. We can regroup there.”


“Aaron?” I asked.


Edward’s jaw clenched. “He’s gone for now. But not far. He’ll either cut ahead or try to starve us out.”


Something cold settled in my gut. “Then we don’t give him the chance.”


He studied me for a moment, and there was something unreadable in his eyes. “You were strong last night,” he said softly. “Stronger than before.”


I looked away, feeling the ghost of Aaron’s grip on my wrist, the sting of his magic in my chest. “I didn’t feel strong.”


“You were,” Edward insisted. “And you’ll need to be again.”


We began breaking camp in silence. The pack moved like shadows, efficient but subdued. Wounded were supported or carried; weapons were cleaned and wrapped. The air was heavy with unspoken words. Everyone knew what last night meant — not just a skirmish, but a declaration. Aaron had found us. And he wasn’t going to stop.


By midmorning we were on the move, the forest swallowing us whole. The trees grew taller here, older, their branches arching overhead like cathedral ceilings. Shafts of sunlight pierced the canopy in thin, trembling beams. The ground was damp, moss soft under our boots. It should have felt peaceful, but I couldn’t shake the sense of being watched.


Luka limped along near me, leaning on a spear for support. “You think Aaron’s tracking us?” he asked under his breath.


“He’s always tracking us,” I replied.


“Yeah, but do you think he knows...” Luka hesitated, glancing at me. “...about the baby?” My chest tightened. “No. And we’re going to keep it that way.”


He nodded grimly, then fell silent.


Hours passed like that — long stretches of quiet broken only by the snap of branches or the low murmur of voices. We made good time despite the injuries. Every so often Edward would drift back to check on us, his presence a steady anchor in the shifting sea of trees.


It wasn’t until late afternoon that the first sign of trouble came.


We’d stopped briefly to drink from a narrow stream cutting through the forest when Mara stiffened, her eyes narrowing. “Do you smell that?” she whispered.


I did. Smoke. Faint but unmistakable, carried on the breeze from somewhere ahead.


Edward crouched, fingers brushing the damp earth. “Campfire,” he murmured. “Fresh. Less than an hour old.”


The pack tensed instantly. Hands tightened on weapons. Luka shifted his weight, his injured arm trembling.


“What do we do?” I asked, keeping my voice low.


Edward straightened slowly. “We go around if we can. But if it’s Aaron’s men...” He didn’t finish the thought. He didn’t have to.


We moved forward with more caution now, every step measured. The smell of smoke grew stronger, mixed with something else — sweat, leather, the faint tang of iron. We crept through a dense patch of undergrowth, and then the trees opened up to reveal a small clearing.


Three men sat around a low fire, their cloaks dirty, weapons within arm’s reach. Not Aaron’s men. Not exactly. But not harmless either. Rogues. The kind who drifted between allegiances, selling their blades to whoever paid the most.


They hadn’t seen us yet.


Edward signaled for everyone to hold. He turned to me, his expression unreadable. “Stay back,” he mouthed.


But before he could move, one of the rogues looked up sharply, eyes scanning the treeline. His hand went to his sword.


We’d been spotted.


The man stood, his voice carrying across the clearing. “Who’s there?”


Edward stepped out first, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “Just travelers,” he said evenly. “We’re not looking for trouble.”


The rogue’s lips curled into a sneer. “Travelers don’t come through these woods.”


Behind him, one of the others rose, a bow in his hand. “You’re the ones Aaron’s looking for,” he said. “Ain’t you?”


My stomach dropped.


Edward didn’t move. “And if we are?”


The first rogue grinned. “Then you’re worth more alive than dead.” He reached for his blade.


Before he could draw it, a low growl rumbled from Luka’s throat. The sound sent a shiver through the clearing. The rogue hesitated for a fraction of a second — just long enough for me to step out beside Edward, my dagger glinting in the dim light.


“You can try,” I said quietly.


The rogue’s grin faltered.


And then everything happened at once.


The man with the bow loosed an arrow, but Edward was already moving, knocking it aside with a blur of motion. Luka lunged forward despite his injuries, striking the first rogue hard enough to send him sprawling. Mara darted in from the side, slashing with a short blade.


I moved straight for the third man, who’d drawn a knife and was circling me like a wolf. He lunged, and I ducked, sweeping his legs out from under him. He hit the ground with a grunt, and I pressed my blade to his throat before he could recover.


“Stay down,” I hissed. He froze, eyes wide.


Within moments it was over. Two of the rogues lay unconscious; the third knelt before me, hands raised.


Edward stood over the fallen men, breathing hard but steady. “Tie them,” he ordered.


We bound their hands with rope and dragged them to the center of the clearing. The fire crackled between us, throwing shifting shadows over their faces.


“Who sent you?” Edward demanded.


The kneeling man hesitated, his gaze flicking between us. “I don’t know his name,” he muttered. “We just got paid to watch the road. Said a group might be coming through. Told us to take you alive.”


“Aaron,” I whispered.


Edward’s jaw tightened. “Where is he?”


“I don’t know,” the man said quickly. “We weren’t told. Just... just to wait here.”


Edward stared at him for a long moment, then turned to me. “We can’t stay here. If Aaron’s this close...”


I nodded. “We move now.”


We left the rogues tied, weapons scattered far out of reach. As we melted back into the forest, the firelight faded behind us. My heart pounded, not from the fight but from what it meant. Aaron was setting traps now. Testing us. Closing in.


I touched my stomach without thinking. The baby shifted beneath my hand, a quiet, steady movement that felt like defiance.


We weren’t going to run forever.


Somewhere ahead, the ridge waited — and beyond it, the safehouse. But I knew in my bones that Aaron wouldn’t l

et us reach it without a fight. 


We had two days to get there. Two days to prepare. 


Two days before the next storm hits.





Chapter 28


Kora’s POV

Night fell fast in the forest, swallowing what little warmth the day had given us. We made camp beneath a cluster of ancient pines, their branches heavy with mist. The pack was exhausted, every movement sluggish, but Edward wouldn’t let anyone light a fire. Too risky. Too easy for Aaron to find us.


So we sat in the dark, the air damp and cold, our breaths rising in faint clouds. I pulled my cloak tighter around me, my hand instinctively resting over my stomach. The baby shifted faintly, as though sensing my unease.


“You’re awake too?” Mara’s voice came softly from my left. She was curled against a tree, her knees drawn to her chest. In the shadows, her face looked older, worn down by too many battles.


“Couldn’t sleep,” I admitted.


“Me neither.” She exhaled slowly. “Every time I close my eyes, I see Aaron’s face. The way he looked at you last night...” Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head. “It was like you were the only person in the room.”


A shiver ran through me, not from the cold. “I know.” Mara studied me quietly. “Are you afraid of him?”


I thought about it. About the way Aaron’s voice had slid under my skin, dragging up old memories I wished I’d buried. About how my heart had raced, not with love or bond, but with fury.


“Yes,” I said finally. “But not the way I used to be. I’m not afraid of what he’ll do to me anymore. I’m afraid of what he’ll do to the people around me. To Edward. To all of you.”


Mara reached out, her hand brushing mine briefly. “You’re stronger than you think, Kora.”


Before I could answer, a low whistle cut through the night. Edward’s signal. Instantly the pack snapped to alert, weapons in hand.


Edward appeared out of the darkness, his eyes scanning us, sharp and alert. “Scouts,” he said curtly. “Three of them, less than half a mile out. Probably rogues again, but they’re circling.”


My pulse spiked. “Aaron?”


“Could be,” Edward replied. “Could be bait. Either way, we move now.”


Within minutes the camp was broken. No fire, no trace left behind but footprints quickly swept away. We moved in silence, shadows among shadows. The moon hung low and silver, its light fractured through the branches.


The forest thickened as we pressed west, roots twisting underfoot. My legs ached, but I kept going, one hand steady on the small pack slung over my shoulder. Luka limped along ahead of me, jaw clenched against the pain in his side. He refused to let anyone help him. Stubborn fool.


It was nearly dawn when we stumbled upon the ruins.


At first, I thought it was just rocks — jagged shapes breaking through the earth. But as we drew closer, I saw the outlines of walls, collapsed but still holding their form. Old stone, covered in moss. A forgotten watchtower maybe, or part of a settlement long abandoned.


Edward halted, raising a hand. “We rest here,” he said. “One hour. No more.”


The pack moved gratefully toward the shelter of the stones. I lingered at the edge, my eyes tracing the ruins. Something about them felt... wrong. Too quiet, too empty.


“You see it too,” Edward murmured, coming up beside me. I nodded. “It feels like it’s waiting for something.”


He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “Stay close.”


We settled inside what might once have been a hall, the roof long since collapsed. The stones radiated cold, damp with years of rain. Mara dozed against a wall, her hand still clutching her dagger. Luka finally let himself sit, his head tilted back, eyes closed.


I tried to rest, but my body wouldn’t obey. My mind kept circling back to Aaron — his smirk, his voice, the way he had leaned so close as if daring me to break.


I must have dozed off eventually, because the next thing I knew, Edward was shaking me gently. “Time’s up,” he said. His voice was low, urgent.


I blinked, disoriented. The ruins were darker now, shadows stretching longer than they should have in the pale morning light. The air was thick, almost suffocating.


And then I heard it. A whisper.


Soft at first, like wind through leaves, but growing louder. It wasn’t just in my ears — it was inside my head.


Kora...


I froze. My heart slammed against my ribs. I knew that voice.


Aaron.


I whipped my head toward Edward, panic clawing at my throat. “Do you hear that?”


He frowned. “Hear what?”


The whisper came again, smoother this time, curling around my mind like smoke. Kora... you can’t hide from me. I’ll always find you.


“No,” I whispered, pressing my hands to my ears. “Get out of my head!” Edward gripped my shoulders, shaking me once. “Kora! Look at me.”


I forced my eyes open. His face swam into focus, sharp and steady. “He’s in my head,” I gasped. “I can hear him—he’s speaking to me.”


Edward’s eyes darkened. “He’s using the bond. Whatever thread still lingers between you... He’s pulling it.”


My stomach lurched. “I thought it was gone.”


“It should be,” Edward growled. “But he’s forcing it open.”


The whispers grew louder, pressing against the edges of my mind. I could feel Aaron’s presence, oily and suffocating. He was close. Too close.


You can run west, east, it doesn’t matter. I’ll come for you. You were mine once, Kora. You’ll be mine again.


“No!” I shouted, the sound tearing from my throat.


The pack stirred, eyes snapping open, weapons raised. Luka struggled to his feet, confusion written across his face. “What’s happening?”


Edward didn’t take his eyes off me. “Aaron’s trying to reach her. Stay alert.”


I trembled, fighting to push Aaron’s voice out of my head. But the harder I fought, the stronger it became. My vision blurred, the ruins around me dissolving into shadows. I could almost see him — Aaron’s face, his smile, his hand reaching out.


And then Edward’s voice cut through it all, hard and commanding. “Listen to me, Kora. You’re not his. Not anymore. Look at me!”


I did. My gaze locked on Edward’s, and something inside me steadied. The whispers faltered, wavering like smoke in a gust of wind.


“You’re mine,” Edward said fiercely. “Not because of a bond. Not because of fate. Because you chose me. Do you hear me? You. Chose. Me.”


The last words slammed through me like a hammer. The bond — that poisoned thread Aaron was trying to use — snapped tight and then loosened, as if the very core of me had chosen its direction.


And just like that, Aaron’s voice vanished.


I gasped, sucking in air as though I’d been drowning. My whole body shook, sweat dripping down my temples.


Edward caught me before I collapsed, holding me against his chest. His voice was low, steady in my ear. “He won’t take you again. Not while I’m breathing.”


I buried my face against him, my tears hot and silent. For a long moment, it was just his heartbeat and mine, steadying in unison.


When I finally pulled back, the ruins seemed lighter, less suffocating. The shadows had retreated.


But deep down, I knew the truth.


This was only the beginning. Aaron wasn’t just chasing us. He was inside the cracks o

f my soul, testing every weakness, searching for a way in.


And I had no idea how long I could keep him out.




Please Log In or Sign Up to continue reading.

No account? Sign Up

Unlock all Chapters with 3$

Proceed to payment to unlock all chapters and continue reading.

Tags:
Previous Post Next Post

You Might Like 😎

See All