SIERRA'S POV

I told myself I’d leave before dawn, but I hadn’t moved far, not when I could still feel him.

Even with the distance between us, the bond thrummed faintly under my skin. I tried to ignore it, to drown it under the sound of rain, but it was like trying to forget how to breathe. His presence clung to the edges of my thoughts.

Isaak.

The crack of a branch behind me didn’t surprise me since I knew he was following. His scent hit a heartbeat later and my heart betrayed me with its skip.

“I told you to stay away,” I said, barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer. I could hear his growl even through the rain. When I turned, the world seemed to tilt. He stood just a few feet away, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead, his shirt clinging to muscle and scar. His eyes burned that impossible silver, bright even through the darkness.

“I couldn’t,” he said finally. “Every step I take away from you hurts.”

I laughed, but it cracked with venom. “Please.”

He kept moving toward me, slow enough that I could have run. I backed up until the bark of the tree pressed against my shoulders.

The distance vanished. His heat wrapped around me before he even touched me, and when his fingers brushed a raindrop from my jaw, the bond came alive with a spark that traveled through me like lightning.

“This isn’t right,” I said, but even as the words left me, my hands rose of their own accord, fingers catching in his soaked shirt.

He nodded once, jaw tight. “No. It’s not.”

And still, he didn’t move away.

When his hand cupped my neck, the contact stole my breath. My wolf stirred beneath my skin, not in pain but recognition, whispering the word I refused to say.

Mine.

His thumb stroked the hollow of my throat, feeling the hammer of my pulse. My body betrayed me entirely, arching toward him, desperate for a closeness I swore I didn’t want. His other hand slid to my waist, fingers gripping, dragging me forward until my chest brushed his. The rain hissed between us, the heat of our skin steaming against the chill.

He dipped his head. The first brush of his lips was hesitant, then something in both of us broke.

The kiss hit like a storm. His mouth crashed into mine, hungry, wet, tasting of rain and salt and every swallowed word between us. I gasped against him as his hands pulled me closer, molding me against the hard lines of his body. I could feel every heartbeat, every tremor, the strength he used to hold himself back.

But restraint burned fast.

When his tongue slid past my lips, the kiss deepened, our breath mingling in needy bursts. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling hard enough to make him growl, a low, animal sound that vibrated against my mouth.

“Fuck,” he breathed, voice breaking on the word. “Ari,”

My name was a plea.

He pressed me back into the tree, hips aligning with mine, the evidence of his want hard and insistent through soaked fabric. I arched against him, the friction sending a desperate shudder through me.

His hand slid down, cupping my thigh, lifting it until I was half-wrapped around him. The move stole the last of my balance, forcing me to cling to him. The bark scraped against my back; his body was hot against the cold.

He kissed me again until all that existed was breath and heat and the pulse between us. The rain plastered our clothes to our skin, every contour visible, every movement amplified by the slickness of it.

I felt him through the thin layers, thick and hot against my thigh, and the shock of wanting him hit me like lightning. My hips rolled before I could stop them.

He groaned and that sound undid me.

His hand slid under my shirt, palm dragging up over my stomach, tracing heat along my ribs. When he reached my breast, I gasped, the sound breaking high and breathless as his thumb brushed the hardened peak. He paused, eyes flicking up to mine, searching for refusal. There was none left in me.

He leaned in, kissed my throat, bit lightly, sucked until I whimpered.

The sound made him shudder. He pushed my shirt up, mouth following, kissing down the curve of my breast, tongue flicking over my nipple before he drew it between his lips. The jolt of pleasure made my knees go weak.

The bond pulsed harder now, our marks glowing faintly where they touched, silver threads of light curling through the rain.

I tugged at his shirt, desperate, clumsy. He pulled it over his head, rain-dark hair clinging to his skin, muscles gleaming. I dragged my hands over his chest, tracing the scars, the heat, the rise and fall of breath. He caught my wrist, pressed my palm flat over his heart. The mark there glowed in sync with mine.

“You feel that?” he said hoarsely.

I nodded, unable to speak.

He kissed me again, softer this time, but it only made the ache worse. Then his hand slid between us,brushing my thigh, and I gasped as his fingers slipped beneath. The contrast of cold rain and the heat of his hand made my whole body arch.

“Isaak,”

“Shh,” he murmured against my ear, “let me.”

His fingers found me slick and the first slow stroke dragged a cry from my throat, “goddess,” My head fell back against the tree, mouth open, rain running over my face as he touched me.

The bond flared wild with each movement, the glow spreading like liquid silver through my veins.

He pressed his forehead to mine, panting. “You drive me insane.”

I gasped, hips trembling against his hand.

His thumb found between my legs, rubbing slow, tight circles until I couldn’t think. The sound of the rain faded into the rhythm of breath and skin. My body clenched around nothing, the edge building faster than I could brace for.

When I came, it was in a rush that stole the air from my lungs. “Isaak,”

He swallowed the sound in another kiss, his hand holding me through every tremor.

Before I could recover, he was unfastening his pants, movements frantic. I barely registered the sound of the zipper over the pounding of blood in my ears. He looked at me once, just once, and I nodded, unable to resist the gravity that had always pulled us together.

He lifted me, my legs wrapping around his waist, the head of his cock pressing against me. The first thrust broke me open with a gasp that echoed through the trees.

He moved slowly at first, each push deeper, harder, until the sound of our bodies blurred with the storm. The rain streamed down our skin, slicking every movement. I clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, panting his name against his throat.

He groaned, a sound that shook against my chest. “You feel, fuck, so good,”

Each thrust sent ripples of silver through the mark at my collarbone. Our rhythm turned desperate, his hips driving me against the tree, the rough bark biting into my back, every ounce of pain twisted into pleasure.

I cried out as another wave hit, my body tightening around him. His rhythm faltered. He groaned my name into my mouth and then he came, until there was nothing left but heat and our ragged breaths.

He dressed me quietly and, using his shirt as a makeshift shirt, pulled me to sit with him against the tree. We stayed like that, our marks glowing faintly in the gray light filtering through the storm. The world had gone still again.

When the last drops fell, he was quiet, pulling me against his chest. Our hearts beat in unison, the bond’s hum soft and tender. For the first time since the rejection, it didn’t hurt.

But I knew it wouldn’t last.

When I finally pulled away, he was already drifting into sleep, exhaustion softening the harsh lines of his face. I watched him, memorizing the impossible softness of that moment.

Quietly, I reached down to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, my throat tightened.

“Forgive me,” I whispered. “But I can’t stay to be your regret.”

The air was sharp with the scent of him, the ache of what we’d done clinging like a bruise.

As I crossed the border, I didn’t look back.

The dawn broke over the trees, pale and clean, washing the forest in silver light. I walked until the scent of him was gone, until all that remained was the sound of my own breathing.

ISAAK'S POV

The moment I woke, I knew she was gone.

The space beside me was cold, the scent of her already fading under the damp morning air. The forest outside was quiet. My wolf stirred beneath my skin.

I sat up fast, breath sharp. The ground was a mess of footprints and crushed leaves, proof of how quickly she’d left. My chest tightened at the sight. The mark over my heart, pulsed weakly, the faint echo of the bond I’d broken and betrayed.

Last night blurred in fragments: the rain, her voice, the heat between us that had nothing to do with hate and everything to do with the thing I couldn’t admit aloud.

I dragged a hand through my hair, anger rising like smoke. “You should have stayed,” I muttered to the empty clearing.

But she hadn’t.

And now I could feel her moving farther away.

By the time I reached the packhouse, dawn had broken over the valley. Moonbane scouts stood waiting near the gates, eyes sharp, posture tense. They saluted as I passed, though their gazes flicked toward the forest behind me. Word traveled fast; even if no one dared ask where I’d been, they knew something had changed.

“Alpha,” my Beta, Ronan, called, stepping forward. “Patrols found fresh scent trails near the ridge. It matches the omega’s.”

“Her name is Sierra.” I growled.

My beta simply cocked a discerning brow at me. “Forgive me Alpha. The scent matches Sierra's.”

“Did she cross the border?”

“Not yet.”

My wolf surged at the thought, a growl rumbling low in my throat.

Find her.

I couldn’t tell them that was exactly what I planned to do. An Alpha didn’t chase what he’d rejected. An Alpha didn’t look haunted by an omega’s absence. I didn't even deserve to, not after the pure humiliation I'd put her through.

So I lied.

“Double the patrols,” I ordered. “If she’s still within our borders, bring her back, unharmed.”

Ronan hesitated. “And if she’s crossed?”

I looked toward the mountains, their peaks shrouded in cloud. “Then she’s no longer ours.”

He nodded and moved off.

But as soon as he was gone, I turned toward the forest, shifting to my wolf as I ran through the trees.

Each breath I took was full of her scent, faint as it is. Rain, pine, and that soft note that had driven me mad from the moment the Goddess bound us.

I didn’t care about pride. Not anymore. I needed her by my side no matter what.

•••

SIERRA'S POV

By the time the scouts found my scent, I was already halfway up the ridge.

The rain had stopped, but the air was thick with mist, curling low across the mountains like breath. My limbs and lungs burned from the climb, my fingers scraped raw from the rocks. Still, I didn’t stop.

The forest here was thinner, the ground wet and slippery from the previous nights rain. Somewhere behind me, wolves howled.

Moonbane.

I'd imagined they'd come after me after last night, but it had been faster than I thought.

I pressed my hand against a tree, forcing myself to breathe, and then I ran, as fast as my feet could take me up the incline.

A crack of branches below made me falter. Voices carried on the wind. Hurried footsteps trudging the ground behind me.

“Trail leads this way!”

I picked up my pace.

The path narrowed, turning rocky and steep. The world blurred into green and then gray. My wolf stirred, desperate to shift, to run faster, but I held her back. If I shifted, they’d smell me instantly.

A shout echoed below.

I ducked behind a fallen tree, chest heaving, trying to quiet my breath.

And then I felt him.

Not through sound. Through the bond.

He’s near.

I crawled low through the brush, careful not to leave a clear trail. The mountain rose sharply ahead, its narrow path vanishing into fog. It was dangerous, steep enough to break a neck if I slipped. But it led out of Moonbane territory.

And I would rather die on my feet than go back to face the humiliation of rejection. And the humiliation of being caught running from that rejection.

When I glanced down the slope, I caught a glimpse of movement, dark figures weaving between the trees. Scouts. And behind them, a presence that burned brighter.

Isaak.

Sierra, his wolf whispered faintly through the bond. Don’t run.

Tears stung my eyes, but I kept moving. “You don’t get to want me now,” I muttered under my breath.

A loose rock gave way beneath my foot. I slipped, pain flaring through my knee as I hit the ground. The scent of blood spilled sharp into the air. I forced myself up, limping, half crawling until the ground leveled out near a ridge. Wind tore through my hair, the world below spinning dizzy and wild.

For a moment, I looked back.

At him. At his tall and broad figure. The sun caught his features in a way that made him absolutely beautiful.

He didn’t move. But I did.

I continued towards the ridge and descended the crest. By the time the sun broke over the peaks, I far past Moonbane territory. The air grew colder, the forest thinner. My body ached, my hands raw and bleeding, but I didn’t stop until the last trace of his scent disappeared behind the wind.

When I finally collapsed beneath a pine tree, leaning against the mark and trying to catch my breath. I let the silence wash over me.

I was shaking, not from cold, but from everything I’d left behind. Or everything I hadn't, because what even did I have?

I looked up at the mountains towering above, their peaks glowing gold beneath the rising sun. Somewhere beyond them lay a new life. A better life.

I smiled.

For the first time since the ceremony, I didn’t feel like a reject. Like a mistake if the goddess.

I felt alive.

SIERRA'S POV

The first days after crossing the border were nothing but pain and silence.

My body ached from the climb and my knee was swollen from the fall. The mountains gave way to lawless woods, where no pack claimed rule and no scent held dominance for long. The air here was sharp and the wind carried no trace of Moonbane. No trace of him.

I kept walking.

The forest became my world, a shifting maze of trees and shadows where I learned what it meant to survive.

I drank from cold streams, stole warmth from abandoned dens, and ate what I could trap or forage. My wolf, weakened by rejection, stirred sluggishly inside me, but she was there. We leaned on each other the way wounded things do. She lent me strength when my body failed and I gave her hope when despair crept close.

Days blurred into nights. I learned to hide my scent, rolling in river mud, masking it with crushed herbs and wild mint. I learned the ways of rogues: how to move without leaving prints, how to listen for danger in the spaces between silence.

And slowly, I changed.

The omega who once bowed her head in the Moonbane hall was gone.

What replaced her was leaner, sharper. A creature born of hunger and stubborn will.

Sometimes, I thought of Isaak.

Not out of longing, but anger.

I thought of his face when he said I reject you. The coldness. The pride. And then, that night under the rain, how it had felt when his walls had cracked, when something real had replaced that cold rejection.

I told myself it meant nothing. That it had been weakness, not love.

But lies taste bitter after too long.

One morning, as frost glittered across the undergrowth, I found a stream and crouched to drink. My reflection startled me. My skin was paler, my cheeks were hollow and my eyes were shadowed with exhaustion, but my gaze was steady.

Weeks passed. The days grew longer, warmer. I built a small shelter near the edge of a clearing, woven from branches and bark. It wasn’t much, but it was mine.

Then the sickness began.

It started with nausea. The smell of meat made me gag, even water turned sour in my mouth. At first, I thought it was infection, some wound festering, or poison from the roots I’d eaten. But when I pressed a hand to my belly, a strange warmth lingered beneath my skin, like a pulse that wasn’t mine.

And not just one, but two.

Do you feel that? I whispered to my wolf.

Her answer was soft. Yes.

The realization hit me like thunder. I sank to my knees, the world spinning, my breath caught somewhere between laughter and tears.

“No,” I murmured. “No, it can’t be,”

But it was.

The Goddess, in her cruel and twisted mercy, had left me a piece of him. Of us.

My hands shook as I held them over my stomach. There was life inside me. The nausea returned in waves, but I didn’t care. I curled against the cold ground.

Tears slipped down my cheeks.

The bond I thought was dead flickered faintly, not to him, but to them. A thread of light in the dark.

For the first time since the ceremony, my heart didn’t ache for what I’d lost. It ached for what I had to protect.

The days that followed were a blur of fierce determination. I gathered herbs for strength, hunted smaller prey, built stronger walls around my shelter. My wolf healed faster than I ever expected, her instincts sharpened by the presence of the lives growing inside us.

Food came harder to find as my belly began to swell, but I learned to adapt. I trapped rabbits, picked berries, drank from streams when the nausea allowed. The forest became both my prison and my protector.

Sometimes I caught the scent of strangers, rogues passing through, their musk heavy with hunger and violence, but I hid well. I wasn’t the trembling omega they could toy with. I was something else now. Something the Goddess had reforged in blood and grief.

When the moon rose full over the clearing, I lay beneath it, hand over my stomach, whispering to the life inside.

“You’ll never know pain like I did,” I told them softly. “Never bow to anyone. You’ll run free. You’ll be strong.”

My wolf purred inside me, her warmth wrapping around the promise.

I closed my eyes, letting the moonlight bathe my skin. The wind carried the scent of rain and pine and distant wolves, but I no longer feared it.

Let them hunt. Let them search.

I was done being prey.

As the weeks turned into months, I found myself moving slower, but surer. My senses sharpened, every sound, every scent clearer than before. The pups were growing fast, their movements more pronounced.

Sometimes, I felt one kick when I laughed, or when I whispered a song I half-remembered from the pack nursery. Those were the only moments I let myself smile.

One evening, I caught my reflection again in the stream. My face was softer now, rounded by the signs of life I carried. But my eyes, those had changed the most. They were no longer afraid.

Still, some nights, I woke with my heart pounding, convinced I could feel Isaak’s presence across the distance. The bond, though faint, pulsed sometimes.

I ignored it.

I couldn’t let him find me. Not now. Not ever.

Because the moment he saw me, he would see them. And I knew what an Alpha did when faced with a threat to his legacy.

He’d see bastards. I saw miracles.

So I hid deeper into rogue lands, traveling farther each week, following the rivers that led toward the northern hills. The air grew colder again, but I welcomed it. The cold made the world clean, sharp, honest.

At night, when the pups stirred, I told them stories. About the moon that watched over all wolves. About strength that doesn’t come from bloodlines but from heart. About a mother who once thought she was broken and learned she was unbreakable.

The Goddess had taken much from me,my place, my pride, my bond, but she had left me this. Two heartbeats where there had once been none. Two tiny souls that gave me reason to keep fighting.

And fight I would.

If Moonbane ever came for me, if he ever came for me, they would find not a frightened omega, but a mother, fierce and wild and ready to burn the forest down before she let them touch what was hers.

The thought didn’t scare me.

It steadied me.

Because this time, I wasn’t going to run from anything.