CHAPTER 5

Zeena's POV.

"You’re my–"

"Don’t say it," I snapped. "Don’t you dare say it again."

Ryder's brows knit. “You’re shaking. Let me–”

“I will kill you if you come closer.” I knew I couldn't do shit, but I could threaten, so why not.

Laura let out a low whistle from the corner, arms crossed, still leaning against the crate like this was dinner theater. “Well, that’s one way to greet fate.”

Ryder ignored her. He took a step toward me.

"Don’t touch me," I warned. "I’m not yours. Just because your fate says so doesn’t mean I agree."

The air between us crackled. His eyes narrowed–not in anger, but confusion. Like he couldn’t process what I was saying and he wasn't expecting the reaction he was getting.

"You felt that. I know you did," he said, softer now. “I could smell it off you. That bond... it’s real.”

“Real doesn’t mean safe,” I spat. “I’ve been there. I know how this story ends. And I’m not your happy-ever-after, wolf boy. You don’t want me.”

Something flickered in his eyes. He crouched beside me, still not touching, but close enough I could smell the woods on him. Wild pine and musky scent of sweat.

“I think I do,” he said.

“I don’t care.”

Silence.

Then he reached forward, fast, slicing through the ropes with a claw I hadn’t seen form.

“Run then,” he said simply. “If you really want to.”

I blinked, stunned. I expected restraint. Force. Anything but this.

My legs were unsteady as I scrambled to my feet, eyes locked on him like he might change his mind.

He didn’t.

He said run, and that was what I did.

That was the only word that echoed in my head as I tore through the trees, lungs screaming, legs trembling with each pounding step. The bushes closed around me like a second skin, thick with shadows and damp with fear.

Branches clawed at my skin, some drawing blood. Mud sucked at my shoes. My feet slipped more than once in the mud, but I kept going. I had no idea where I was going, but it didn’t matter. I couldn't believe I was on the run again, just within a span of how many days.

This time, I had to get away.

From him.

From whatever this was.

From fate.

Could be that the gods were giving me a second chance.

But Ryder had let me go. He actually did let me go.

And that scared me more than anything else.

Because if he really wanted me, if he really believed that bond, he would’ve chased me.

Right?

So maybe he didn’t want me after all.

Good. That was good. That was what I wanted. No second mate. No second mistake.

But then why did it feel like something was breaking open in my chest with every step I took? Like no one wanted me? Was it that bad?

That thought pushed me harder.

The ground shifted beneath me, sloping downward. I didn’t notice until it was too late. My foot landed on loose dirt, and the world tilted. I stumbled forward, arms flailing, trying to catch onto something–anything.

Nothing.

I went over the edge.

A scream tore from my throat as the cliff swallowed me whole.

I tumbled, branches snapping around me like brittle bones. Rocks scraped my skin. Air whooshed past my ears. My back hit something hard. Then everything went black for a moment.

When I came to, everything hurt.

Not in the soul-deep way rejection had hurt.

This was different.

My head throbbed. I could feel something warm trickling down my face. My arm was twisted under me, maybe bruised, maybe worse. I was cold, soaked in sweat, dirt, and something wet that smelled faintly metallic. My vision swam.

I hadn't even been able to catch my breath and try to open my eyes to look around or try to get up when I heard voices, footsteps.

“What the fuck…”

“Where'd she fall from?”

“The cliff, idiot.”

“Is she–”

“She's alive, dude, can't you see she's breathing?”

“C’mon, we're taking her to the Alpha.”

Oh no, please let me be.

Rough hands lifted me and immediately a sharp pain shot up my arm, I had to stifle a whimper. I didn’t have the strength to fight them. And even if I did, what could I do? My body went limp, sagging between two sets of arms. My head lolled to the side.

The dim light of the setting sun cast long shadows on the ground as we moved, and I caught glimpses of unfamiliar trees and buildings passing by in a blur. The sound of footsteps echoed through the air, growing louder with each step until we came to a halt.

“Alpha, we found her like this.”

“She fell through the west ridge. We think she ran from the Borderlands. Maybe from one of the packs fighting over the neutral zones.”

“She’s bleeding,” another voice said. “But there’s no scent of a wolf.”

The silence that followed felt like everyone was in their thoughts, trying to come up with something reasonable, until someone broke it.

"She crossed into our land. What do we do?” I was guessing it was one of the wolves that found me that spoke this time.

Then a deeper voice spoke. One that made the air shift, like the trees themselves leaned in to listen. Ah, Alpha dearest.

“Bring her in, we’ll question her when she wakes. She doesn’t smell like much, but she’s still a trespasser.”

“What if she’s a trap? A decoy?”

“She’s half-dead and doesn’t even have a wolf. If this is a trap, it’s a stupid one.”

Oh, I'm not even worthy of being used as a trap. Zeena, you really are useless.

“Still. Keep her under guard. I want eyes on her until I say otherwise.”

Through blurred lashes, I caught a glimpse of the Alpha.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark skin and a scar cutting across his jaw. His eyes were a shade too sharp, too clever.

He wasn’t like Ryder. Or even Riven. There was something colder in his expression–like a man who’d stopped believing in mercy a long time ago. I shuddered internally, scared of making a move.

“Put her in the holding cabin. Chain the door,” he ordered. “And for the Goddess’ sake, someone clean her up.”

Then another voice cut through the air.

Sharp. Confident.

Too familiar.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

No.

No, no, no.

I knew that voice. I fucking knew that voice. How did he find me and this quick might I add.

“What the hell–?”

“She’s not yours to handle,” the voice continued, calm and low like a growl tucked under silk.

“I’ve come for what’s mine.”

Oh no.