Freedom at last
The moon had never looked so beautiful.
Silver light spilled across the forest beyond my tiny window, weaving between the towering pines surrounding the pack house. Every leaf shimmered beneath it. Every blade of grass seemed to glow.
For the first time in my life, the moon didn’t feel distant.
It felt like freedom.
My name is Lilah. I’m sixteen years old, and tonight I’m running away.
Not tomorrow.
Not next week.
Tonight.
I’d been waiting twelve years for this.
Every werewolf dreams about their first shift. They imagine their wolf awakening beneath the moon while their family watches proudly. There’s usually cheering, celebrating, probably a ridiculous amount of hugging.
I’d imagined mine too.
Just differently.
Because the moment my wolf awakened, I was getting the hell out of here.
I tightened the straps on my backpack and glanced around the tiny room I’d been forced to call my bedroom for most of my life.
Bedroom was generous.
Cupboard was probably more accurate.
Cold stone walls. One tiny window. A thin mattress shoved into the corner. A battered shelf. No photographs. No decorations.
Nothing that made it feel like home.
Because it never had been.
I’d lived here since I was four years old.
Twelve years of cleaning.
Cooking.
Following orders.
Trying not to make Alpha Derrick angry.
My fingers brushed the faded scar across my shoulder.
I immediately pulled my hand away.
I wasn’t thinking about that tonight.
Tonight, Derrick couldn’t hurt me.
Tonight, none of them could.
I crossed the room and picked up the faded teddy bear sitting on the shelf.
Its brown fur had worn almost white in places. One ear had been stitched back on more times than I could count, and its button eyes didn’t even match anymore.
It was old.
Ugly.
Probably worthless.
And it was the most important thing I owned.
“You and me,” I whispered, hugging it against my chest. “We’re finally getting out.”
I smiled, but the familiar ache followed.
I didn’t know who had given it to me.
Maybe my mum.
Maybe my dad.
Maybe I had brothers or sisters who had helped choose it.
I didn’t know.
I couldn’t even remember their faces.
There was only one thing from my old life that had somehow survived inside my head.
One word.
River.
Apparently, when I was little, I used to wake up screaming it.
River. River. River.
Everyone assumed it was a place.
They’d questioned me endlessly.
What happened at the river?
Which river?
Why are you scared of it?
But I never answered.
Not because I wouldn’t.
Because I couldn’t.
I didn’t remember saying it.
I’d even visited the river near the pack hundreds of times, hoping something would come back to me.
Nothing ever had.
Just water rushing over stones.
I pushed the thought away and carefully tucked the teddy bear into my backpack.
Clothes.
Blanket.
Food I’d been secretly collecting for weeks.
First-aid kit.
Matches.
Water.
Pocket knife.
Teddy bear.
Everything I owned.
Everything I needed.
Hopefully.
I had absolutely no idea how to survive in the wilderness.
But I’d figure it out.
Sleeping beneath a tree sounded considerably better than spending another night under Derrick’s roof.
I pulled the backpack onto my shoulders.
Heavy.
Good.
Heavy meant prepared.
Prepared meant alive.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
I reached for the door.
Then stopped.
This was it.
Twelve years I’d imagined this moment.
Twelve years wishing someone would come through that door and tell me there’d been a mistake.
That my family had found me.
That I could go home.
Nobody ever came.
So I was done waiting for someone to save me.
I was saving myself.
“I’m ready,” I whispered.
I opened the door.
“So...”
I froze.
Shit.
Slowly, I turned.
Jace was leaning against the opposite wall with his arms folded across his chest.
Dark curls fell messily across his forehead, and his stupidly bright blue eyes were sparkling with amusement.
Then I noticed the backpack hanging from his shoulder.
My heart sank.
“How did I know you were going to appear?”
His grin widened.
“You weren’t even going to say goodbye?”
“Jace—”
“You didn’t actually think I’d let you go alone, did you?”
I stared at the backpack again.
Then at him.
“No.”
“No what?”
“No, you’re not coming.”
“Yeah, I am.”
“You can’t.”
“I can.”
“Jace.”
“Lilah.”
I glared at him.
He grinned.
I hated when he did that.
“Do you understand what happens if your father catches us?”
His smile faded slightly.
Of course he understood.
Better than anyone.
“He won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Neither do you.”
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
Annoyingly, he had a point.
Jace pushed himself away from the wall and walked towards me.
“You’ve never left pack territory.”
“I’ll manage.”
“You don’t know where you’re going.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“You’ve never hunted.”
“I have food.”
“How much?”
I hesitated.
His eyebrow rose.
“Exactly.”
“I don’t need you looking after me.”
“I know.”
That stopped me.
Jace’s expression softened.
“I’m not coming because I think you can’t do it.”
“Then why?”
He stared at me like the answer was obvious.
“Because you’re my best friend.”
My throat tightened.
“And because,” he added, the grin returning, “watching you attempt to survive alone in the wilderness would probably be painful.”
There he was.
“Sod off.”
He laughed quietly.
I shoved past him.
“Fine.”
He followed.
“So I can come?”
“No.”
“Sounds like a yes.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Definitely sounded like one.”
I turned.
“If you get us caught, I’m leaving you behind.”
“Fair.”
“And if you complain—”
“I won’t.”
“If you slow me down—”
“Won’t happen.”
“And if your father finds us—”
“He won’t.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because you’re panicking.”
“I am not panicking.”
Jace looked pointedly at my hand.
I looked down.
I was gripping the strap of my backpack.
I released it.
“Shut up.”
He smiled.
“After you.”
I took one last look at the door to the room where I’d spent twelve years waiting for my life to begin.
Then I turned away.
I didn’t know where we were going.
I didn’t know what waited beyond pack territory.
But I knew one thing.
I was never coming back.
