Into The Wilderness

Elizabeth crouched in the rogue's tent, her fingers tightening around the knife Mara had given her. The distant howls of Herod's warriors cut through the night, sharp and relentless, a reminder that she was a hunted wolf. The mate bond pulsed in her chest, a cruel echo of Herod's rejection—I reject Elizabeth as my luna and mate. The words stung, but she pushed them down, her gaze fixed on the tent's entrance. The rogue who'd led her here stood outside, his silhouette a dark sentinel against the flickering firelight of the camp. He'd offered shelter, but trust was a luxury Elizabeth couldn't afford.

She stood, pulling the cloak tighter around her shoulders. The rogue camp was no sanctuary—its inhabitants were outcasts, wolves unbound by pack law, their eyes glinting with suspicion. Elizabeth's scent, still heavy with the pack's mark, set her apart. She was an intruder here, just as she'd been branded a traitor back home. Her heart ached for the pack, for Herod, but survival demanded focus. She needed to move, to find the tracker the rogue had mentioned, someone who could uncover the truth behind the stranger in her chambers.

Elizabeth slipped out of the tent, her senses sharp. The camp was quiet, the rogues gathered around the fire now dispersed, their forms blending into the shadows. The rogue who'd helped her turned as she approached, his weathered face unreadable in the moonlight. "You're restless, Elizabeth," he said, his voice low. "Thought you'd sleep after that run."

"I can't stay still," Elizabeth replied, her voice steady despite the fear coiling in her gut. "Herod's warriors are close. You said there's a tracker here. Where is she?"

The rogue studied her, his eyes narrowing. "You're sure about this? Trading pack secrets for a rogue's help isn't a small choice. Once you cross that line, there's no going back."

Elizabeth's jaw tightened. The idea of revealing pack defenses—Herod's strategies, the stronghold's weak points—felt like a betrayal, even after his rejection. But what was loyalty to a pack that had cast her out? "I'll do what I have to," she said. "I'm innocent, and someone framed me. If this tracker can find proof, I'll take the risk."

The rogue nodded, a flicker of respect in his gaze. "Follow me, then. But keep your guard up, Elizabeth. Not everyone here will see you as a friend."

He led her through the camp, weaving past tents and lean-tos. The air carried the scent of smoke and unwashed fur, mingled with the wild tang of rogue wolves. Eyes followed her, some curious, others hostile. A woman sharpening a blade paused, her gaze raking over Elizabeth like a challenge. Elizabeth met it, her wolf stirring, ready to defend herself. She wasn't the luna anymore, but she wasn't weak.

They stopped at a small tent on the camp's edge, its canvas patched and weathered. The rogue knocked softly, and a voice called from within, sharp and impatient. "What do you want, Torin?"

Elizabeth noted the rogue's name—Torin. He glanced at her before answering. "Got someone who needs your skills, Veyra. She's got a story worth hearing."

The tent flap opened, revealing a lean woman with cropped dark hair and eyes like a hawk's, piercing and cold. Veyra's scent was sharp, unclaimed by any pack, and her posture radiated authority. "A pack wolf," she said, her voice dripping with disdain as she looked at Elizabeth. "Smells like trouble. Why should I care?"

Elizabeth stepped forward, her chin raised. "Because I was framed for treachery and cast out by my alpha, Herod. Someone set me up, and I need to know who. Torin says you can find answers."

Veyra's eyes narrowed, assessing Elizabeth. "Herod's mate, huh? Word's spreading about you, Elizabeth. A luna rejected for bedding a rogue. Sounds like a messy story." She smirked, but there was no warmth in it. "What's in it for me?"

Elizabeth's stomach twisted, but she held Veyra's gaze. "Information. Pack defenses, patrol routes—whatever you need to know. But only if you can prove who set me up."

Veyra leaned back, crossing her arms. "That's a steep price for a pack wolf to pay. You sure you're ready to betray your precious alpha?"

"He betrayed me first," Elizabeth snapped, the words spilling out before she could stop them. The mate bond flared, a pang of pain at the thought of Herod. She pushed it down, her voice steadying. "I'm not here to betray my pack. I'm here to save it. Someone wants me gone, and they're a threat to everyone, not just me."

Veyra's smirk faded, replaced by a calculating look. "Interesting. Alright, Elizabeth, I'll bite. Tell me what happened, every detail. And don't lie—I'll know."

Elizabeth took a deep breath, recounting the night of the accusation. The stranger in her chambers, his sudden appearance, the fight that left her bloodied but him unscathed. Herod bursting in, his face twisting with rage as he assumed the worst. The pack's judgment, the sentence of death. Her voice wavered as she spoke of Herod, the bond that still tied her to him, but she forced herself to finish, her hands clenched.

Veyra listened, her expression unreadable. When Elizabeth finished, she nodded slowly. "Sounds like a setup, alright. Someone knew exactly when to send that stranger and when to make sure Herod saw you. Could be an inside job—someone close to your alpha."

Elizabeth's mind flashed to Herod's chief advisor, his cold eyes in the great hall. "I have my suspicions," she said. "But I need proof. Can you get it?"

Veyra tilted her head. "Maybe. I've got contacts in the pack territories, wolves who hear things. But it'll cost you, Elizabeth. I want details—guard schedules, weak points in the stronghold. You give me that, I'll start digging."

Elizabeth hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing on her. The pack was her home, even if it had turned on her. But Herod's rejection had shattered that home, and the truth was her only way back. "I'll give you what I know," she said finally. "But you get me names, Veyra. I want to know who did this and why."

"Deal," Veyra said, extending a hand. Elizabeth shook it, her grip firm despite the unease in her gut. She was crossing a line, trading secrets for survival, but she had no choice.

Torin, who'd been silent, spoke up. "We need to move you, Elizabeth. Herod's warriors are too close. There's a cave nearby—safer than here. Veyra can work from the camp."

Elizabeth nodded, her senses still sharp for the howls in the distance. "Lead the way."

Torin guided her out of the camp, the forest swallowing them once more. The cave was hidden behind a curtain of vines, its entrance narrow but deep. Inside, the air was cool, the walls damp with moss. Torin lit a small fire, its glow casting shadows that danced like ghosts. Elizabeth sat, her cloak pulled tight, the mate bond a constant ache. She saw Herod's face in her mind—his smile as they'd run together, his warmth as he'd held her. Now, he was the hunter, sending warriors to end her.

"You're thinking about him," Torin said, his voice breaking the silence. He sat across from her, his eyes steady. "Your alpha. Herod."

Elizabeth's throat tightened. "He's not my alpha anymore," she said, but the words felt hollow. "He rejected me, Torin. He believed I'd betray him."

Torin leaned forward, his voice soft. "Bonds don't break that easily, Elizabeth. I see it in you—the pain, the pull. You still love him."

Elizabeth looked away, tears stinging her eyes. "It doesn't matter what I feel. He sentenced me to death. I have to focus on the truth now, not him."

Torin nodded, but his gaze held understanding. "The truth's a hard path. But you're not alone, Elizabeth. Not yet."

The fire crackled, and Elizabeth stared into its flames, her resolve hardening. The wilderness was harsh, the rogues untrustworthy, but she was no longer just Herod's mate. She was Elizabeth, a wolf fighting for her life, her truth. Veyra would dig, and Elizabeth would survive, even if it meant facing the shadows alone. The howls were faint now, but they'd return. She'd be ready.