Nyra's POV

The night was full of silence. Not the peaceful kind, but the sharp and waiting kind, the kind that presses against your skin and encircles tight in your lungs. Every branch that cracks below our boots sounds like a warning. Every blow of wind feels like it is trying to carry a message we can not quite decode.

We move like shadows through the western pass, the trees waving around us like a guard. The storm is holding off for now, the clouds rolling low and angry above our heads, but I can smell the rain in the air. It is coming, and when it does, it will either cover our route or make everything worse.

Draven runs just ahead of me, with his body tense and his senses sharp. Behind us, our strike team of six follows in silence, wolves and warriors I barely know, but move with the efficiency of soldiers used to being more than they were in numbers. I am grateful for the quiet. Every moment wasted on chatter is one we do not have to spare.

I kept scanning the ground, sniffing the wind and I kept listening. There is no sign of a struggle, no scent strong enough to catch yet. Kael's men know how to cover their tracks. They would have used scent masking, wind direction and probably even split paths to confuse us.

But they forgot one thing. They are not hunting alone. We are wolves chasing our cub.

I bent down for a while along the route, my fingers touching and feeling the flattened grass and the faintest impression of a boot. Smaller than what Kael's men would wear. My heart stutters.

"Auren passed through here," I whisper. Draven bent down beside me, his hand just an inch away from mine as he examined the ground. He did not speak, but I felt his breath catch, saw the tight set of his jaw.

He believes me. "We are close," I said, then I stood up.

We move faster now, passing through the narrow valley that stays between ancient stone and thick underbrush. The path is very dangerous, roots thick as wrists, uneven ground, a sheer drop to one side, but none of us slow down.

My muscles burn, but I barely notice. My wolf is at the edge of my skin, fur brushing the inside of my bones, ready to shift. But I held her back. Not yet and not until we are closer.

A distant sound cuts through the air, sharp and urgent. Gareth's team. The distraction is working.

Good. That means Kael's attention is right where we want it, far from here.

We move another mile before the track disappears again. Draven raised a hand, and we froze, breathing hard while listening.

Then I feel it. Not a sound and not a scent, but a pull. Auren.

My breath catches, and I close my eyes, trying to find it again. It is not instinct. It is not logic. It is something deeper. A bond.

My son. He is close. Scared, but fighting. I can feel the pulse of his panic like a drumbeat in my chest.

I open my eyes and turn sharply east. "This way," I say.

We changed our direction off the ravine path and pushed into the denser forest. The trees here are older and thicker, and their roots look like veins across the forest floor. Vines pull at our limbs, branches hold unto our clothes, but nothing stops us.

Then suddenly. Light. It flashes through the trees like lightning, but there is no thunder. Just this sudden and blinding pulse that turns the whole forest white for half a second. Then again. Brighter.

The ground vibrates below our feet, a soft tremble like the earth itself is holding its breath.

I freezed. So does Draven. My heart lodges in my throat. "That is him," I whisper, with my voice sounding harsh. "That is Auren."

Draven looks at me, eyes wide, silver glowing faintly in the dark.

"What the hell was that?" one of the warriors behind us mutters, breathless.

Power, I want to say. My son's power.

Another flash splits the trees, and this time I feel it deep in my bones, a rush of raw and untrained energy, wild and unfocused but strong enough to scorch the sky.

He is not just panicking. He is fighting back.

But if he is using that much energy, then Kael knows what he has now. And that means we are almost out of time.

Draven turns toward me, with his eyes hard. "He is not far. Maybe half a mile."

I nodded once. "Move," I said, slipping into a full sprint, the team falling in behind us.

The forest blurred around me, the wind slicing against my cheeks. My heart was pounding so loudly that I could not hear anything else.

Auren, baby, hold on. We are coming. Another flash. But this time it was brighter and closer.

And then, a scream. Not mine. Not Draven's. But it was Auren's scream.

Small. Broken. I do not think I can run. Through branches, over roots, cutting through underbrush like my skin does not matter. My wolf is sounding in my head, trying to be free.

But I do not need her. Not yet. Because I can feel him. I can feel my son.

And I will burn this entire forest to the ground before I let him get taken again.

We break through the last line of trees, and that is when I see it.

A flash of light that was so bright to turned night into day, pointing from a clearing just ahead. Trees waved, air pulses outward in a wave of invisible force, and I know. That is Auren.

That is my baby. And Kael just made his second big mistake.

He did not count on how dangerous a frightened cub could be. 

Especially the ones born of wolves.

Nyra's POV

I pushed through the last tangle of brush, my lungs burning, and my heart was pounding like war drums. The forest seemed to close in around me as I ran, desperate and afraid. And then, I saw him. Auren.

Curled near the base of an old covered tree, his small form was not really visible through the shadows. He had pushed himself between the tree roots, trying to hide. He wrapped his arms tightly around his knee, his head was bent, and he was shaking so violently I thought he might shatter. 

My feet moved before my mind could catch up. "Auren!" I called out, my voice cracking. He did not look up, like he couldn't hear me at all.

I bent down to my knee beside him. My voice was shaking as I reached out. "Baby, it is me. It is Mama." I was scared to touch him, like he might break apart if I did.

He raised his head up, slowly like it hurt to move. The look in his eyes broke me.

Terror. Pure, filled with fear. His eyes, which were usually bright and full of questions, were wide and lost. His bottom lip trembled, and tears rolled down his dirty cheeks. There were scratches along his arms, dirt spread on his clothes, and dried blood on his temple where something had hurt him, but he was alive. And he was alone, without whoever took him.

"Mama..." he sobbed, his voice was cracked and not really audible. He threw himself into my arms, and I caught him like he was the only thing fixing me to the world.

"I am here," I whispered, rocking him against me, one hand on his head and one holding him close to my heart. "I have got you now." "You are safe." "I promise, you are safe." I was saying it for both of us, praying it was true.

Draven bent down low beside us, his eyes scanning the area, body tense. His hand stayed on his weapon. His voice was low but firm. He was alone. That light. Whatever he did, it must have scared them off. Or they are regrouping."

He turned to the others. "Fan out. Search for the length. No one leaves until we know it is clear. Stay in groups of two."

The warriors scattered like shadows, their figures vanishing between trees, with their weapons drawn. But I could not look away from Auren, could not think about anything but him.

He held me tightly, like he thought I might disappear, his tiny hands gripped in my jacket. He was holding on so hard his knuckles were white. His body was ice-cold and trembling, his cries broken and deep, like he was too tired to even be afraid anymore.

"I got you, baby," I whispered, rubbing my hand on his hair, feeling the twigs and dirt caught there. "You are okay now." "I am here." "Mama is here." I rocked him like when he was little and had bad dreams, but this was no dream.

He said something against my chest that was not audible, but I could not make it out, just syllables that were filled with panic and exhaustion. I held him tighter, rubbing my lips on his temple, breathing him in.

His scent was still there, under the blood, the dirt, the fear and his sweet familiar scent that calmed the storm in my chest just a little. Like the pine trees he loved to climb and the soap I used when I bathed him just days ago.

But something was wrong. He was too quiet and too still. The shaking had stopped. And then his body was not looking satisfying, getting heavier in my arms, his grip loosening. My heart stopped. "Auren?"

I pulled back just to look at him, holding him up as he slumped against me. His eyes were shut, his breathing deep and uneven. His lashes were still wet with tears, stuck together against his too-pale cheeks.

"Auren!" I shook him gently. I was already panicking. "Hey, hey, stay with me." "Look at me." I patted his face lightly. He did not respond, his head rolling a bit.

"He passed out," Draven said, his voice tight. He was already reaching for a pulse, pressing two fingers against Auren's neck. "It is steady. But weak. Too weak for a boy his age."

That did not help. I held unto my son tighter, my hands were shaking as I adjusted him in my arms, holding him like when he was a baby.

He was alive. But something was not right. He should not have collapsed like that.

Not unless whatever power he used took too much out of him. Or something else is happening, something I can't see or fight.

I looked down at his face. It was pale and stained with dirt, his lips looking slightly blue. I caught my breath.

"Hold on," I whispered, pressing my forehead on his own, feeling how cold his skin was. "Please baby, just hold on." "Don't you leave me now." "Not after I found you."

Draven placed a hand on my shoulder, grounding me, silent. I was grateful he didn't try to tell me it would be okay with empty words. The forest around us paused with quiet movement, our warriors were searching and watching.

But all I could hear was the echo of Auren's heartbeat and the thunder of fear in my own chest, like blood rushing too fast through my ears.

And for the first time since this nightmare started, since they took him from me... I was truly scared. Not the fear that kept me moving and searching. Fighting and fighting. This was deeper. The kind that freezes your blood and makes you feel like you are drowning on dry land.

I had found my son, but I could still lose him.

And that was a fear no warrior training had ever taught me to face.