Chapter Two — The Border
Keya:
The guards don’t slow. Their fingers dig into my arms hard enough to bruise as they drag me through the ballroom doors into the night.
The cold hits me like a slap. The moonlight is silver and sharp, glinting off the marble steps that lead down from the hall. The distant thrum of music from inside is a cruel reminder—the ball hasn’t stopped. My life has ended, but their celebration goes on.
My bare feet slip against the stone. My dress catches on the sharp edge of the stair and tears. I stumble, the guards jerking me upright before I can hit the ground.
“Please,” I whisper, my voice breaking in the night air. “Please, just let me speak to him—”
The guard on my left doesn’t even look at me. The one on my right snorts. “You’ve said enough for the whole pack to hear.”
My throat burns with all the words I didn’t get to say—how the footage is a lie, how someone set me up—but they don’t care. They only walk faster, their boots striking the cobblestone like war drums.
We pass the garden, where fairy lights still glow between the hedges. I see movement—a shadow slipping between rosebushes. My heart lurches. For a moment I think it’s Luca, coming after me. But the figure is too small.
She steps into the light, a girl in a servant’s dress, her dark braid hanging over one shoulder. Lina. She’s worked in the kitchens since we were both children. Her eyes are wide, darting to the guards before settling on me.
She moves quickly, pressing something into my bound hands. A cloak, rough wool and smelling faintly of herbs.
“They planned this,” she whispers, her voice barely louder than the wind. “Don’t—”
The guard shoves me forward before she can finish. The cloak slips into my lap, heavy and warm, but it doesn’t stop the chill crawling up my spine.
“Keep moving,” the guard growls.
The lights of the pack house fade behind us, replaced by the darker shadows of the forest. The trees rise ahead, tall and ancient, their branches whispering together. Somewhere beyond them lies the border.
I’ve only crossed it once before, as a child, and even then under heavy escort. It’s more than a line on the ground—it’s a wall of magic. A living barrier that hums in your bones and burns if you try to pass without permission.
We reach a clearing. The air feels thicker here, heavier. The moonlight catches on the faint shimmer of the ward line. Beyond it, the forest is darker, quieter—rogue territory.
The guards stop just short of it. One takes a step forward, his face lit in pale blue from the barrier’s glow. “This is where we leave you.”
My breath clouds in the air. “You can’t—”
The other cuts me off. “Cross it, and you’re on your own. Stay, and the magic will tear you apart.”
For a moment, neither moves. I think—maybe—they’re hesitating. But then rough hands are on my back, pushing. My toes hit the line. Pain flares through my feet like stepping into boiling water. I gasp, stumbling forward.
That’s when I hear it.
A low, rumbling growl.
It doesn’t come from the guards. It comes from the darkness beyond the barrier.
I freeze, the sound vibrating through my bones. Something moves in the shadows—fast, low to the ground. The guards glance at each other, but neither steps forward.
“Rogues,” one says, almost casually. “Guess the forest wants you quicker than we thought.”
“Please—” My voice shakes. “Don’t leave me here.”
The growl deepens. Eyes gleam in the dark, catching the moonlight. Too low for a man. Too high for a normal wolf.
The guards step back from the shimmer of the ward line. “Time to go, Luna,” one says, mocking the title as if it’s a curse.
I back up, but my heel hits the burning line again. I can’t move forward without meeting whatever’s in the shadows, but I can’t go back either. The magic sears like fire.
The eyes blink. And then they’re gone. No sound, no movement—until the growl returns, this time from my left. Closer.
The guards turn away, already walking back toward the pack lands. My voice rises after them. “Don’t leave me—”
They don’t answer.
Leaves rustle behind me. A shadow slips between the trees. Bigger this time. Taller.
My pulse pounds in my ears. I take one step back into the rogue lands, the heat of the barrier fading from my skin.
The shape in the dark moves again.
And then it lunges.