Jenna's POVThe forest grows denser the deeper we move. The scent of damp earth and wild greenery fills the air, a sharp contrast to the stale atmosphere of human settlements. There’s an energy here, primal and unrestrained, that stirs something deep within me. We finally stop in a small clearing, sunlight dappling the mossy ground. This is far enough, I decide. “This is the spot,” I say, turning to the group. Eleanor is already tugging off her borrowed shirt, a wicked grin on her face. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m tired of wearing someone else’s clothes." Raina shoots her a sidelong look but says nothing. Caleb and Greta follow suit, their movements efficient and practiced. It feels natural, shedding the remnants of human normalcy to embrace who we are. Mia hesitates.I notice the way her hands clutch at the hem of her sweater and the uncertainty in her eyes. “It’s okay,” I tell her gently. “Take your time." She nods but doesn’t move. Eleanor notices too. “Mia,
Jack's POVThe day starts slow, the lingering exhaustion from training is still clinging to the muscles, but we’re used to that. It's the quiet that feels strange today. After all the noise, the shouting, and the physicality of our lessons, the house feels almost unnervingly still. Violet is inside with the younger ones, settling them into a kind of routine, while the rest of us are scattered around the clearing, checking gear, sharpening weapons, and keeping an eye on the perimeter.I don’t know why it hits me today, but I can feel it—the tension in the air, the prickling sense that something is off. Maybe it’s the calm before the storm, or maybe it’s just the lingering thoughts of our strange neighbors. I don’t trust them, not in the slightest, but I can’t figure out why. And just like that, a knock comes again. Soft, tentative. The doorframe seems smaller with the weight of my unease pressing down on me, but I push it aside, my face carefully neutral. The town’s starting to feel l
Jenna's POVThe walk back to the house is steady but quiet, the weight of our survival sinking in. The forest feels alive in a way that stirs something deep in my chest, the primal part of me that feels most at home out here. But even the wild has its dangers. The Council, the hunters—they could be watching.When the house comes into view, the tension eases just slightly. Mia walks beside me, her white fur shimmering faintly under the dappled sunlight, before she shifts back into her human form. Her cheeks are flushed, and despite the exhaustion, there’s a proud spark in her eyes.“You did well today,” I tell her, my voice quiet but firm.She glances at me, a smile tugging at her lips. “It feels... different now. Like I’ve found a part of myself I didn’t know was missing.”“You have,” I say, resting a hand on her shoulder briefly. “And now, you’ll only get stronger.” She has to be; the world that we live in requires that of her, even though she could be considered a little young. Gre
Jenna’s POVEleanor takes a breath, absorbing the information. “The area around here,” she says cautiously. “Any packs? Anything out of the ordinary?”Silas is quiet for a moment, then he replies in a low, thoughtful tone. “This might be a little too timely to be coincidental.”Eleanor’s stew narrows, her shoulders squaring as she asks, “What is it?”“Earlier today, my wife and I went to say hi to our new neighbors. The empty house that hasn’t been occupied in decades finally got lived in. When Hannah and I heard voices, we decided to go say hi. It turns out it’s a battalion of people—men, women, and children.”“What?” Eleanor gasps.“We are just as shocked as you are,” Silas says wryly. “We tried to get information out of the one who appeared to be the leader without being too direct. But he only gave us smart answers. I’d wanted to let him know we were no threat, but then again, we have to be careful too. Can’t do anything that'll get my wife killed.” Silas’s last statement is pitch
Jenna’s POVThe room feels unusually still as I sit on the edge of the bed, the weight of the day’s tension still hanging in the air. It’s quiet—too quiet. The kind of silence that presses in from all sides. The kind that fills a space with thoughts, memories, and emotions that I don’t always want to face. But I don’t have a choice.I try to focus on the faint glow from the bedside lamp, the soft hum of the air around me—anything to drown out the nagging feeling that keeps gnawing at the back of my mind. The decision to wait a few days feels right, but there’s a part of me that’s still restless. The council is out there. Always hunting. Waiting. And I can’t shake the feeling that we’re running out of time.A soft knock on the door breaks my reverie. My heart skips, but I push the nerves down, trying to keep my composure.“Come in,” I call out.The door creaks open slowly, and I turn to see Raina standing there. Her usual easygoing smile is absent tonight. Instead, her expression is g
Jenna’s POVThe warm glow of evening light bathes the living room, softening the edges of the worn-out furniture and casting long shadows against the walls. The mood is light for once, laughter bouncing off the walls like it hasn’t in weeks. Caleb sharpens his knife at the corner of the room, the rhythmic scrape against the whetstone almost soothing. Greta lounges on the couch, shuffling a deck of cards with practiced ease. Mia giggles on the floor as she carefully stacks the cards into a lopsided tower. Eleanor sits in an armchair by the window, stitching up a tear in her jacket, her hands steady despite the dim light. The atmosphere feels almost normal, like we’re just a group of friends passing time. For a fleeting moment, the weight of everything we’ve been through seems to lift. Almost.Raina stands apart from the rest, leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her eyes are distant; she doesn’t join the conversation and doesn’t laugh or smile. Wh
Jenna’s POVThe sound of quiet footsteps leads me to the back porch, where I find Greta sitting alone, her back resting against the wooden railing. The last light of the setting sun paints the sky in soft oranges and pinks, but her gaze is distant, as though she’s looking at something far beyond the horizon. I hesitate for a moment before stepping outside. The cool air wraps around me, carrying with it the faint scent of pine. Greta glances over her shoulder as the door creaks behind me, her expression neutral but not unwelcoming. “Mind if I join you?” I ask.“Suit yourself,” she replies, shifting slightly to make room. I sit down beside her, my legs stretched out, hands resting on my knees. For a while, neither of us speaks, the silence between us filled with the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. “Talking about Raymond earlier,” I start, breaking the quiet, “it made me think about the inn. I guess… I wanted to know how you really feel about everything that happened." Greta e
Jenna’s POVThe soft warmth of sunlight filters through the curtains, painting golden streaks across the room. I wake with a start, sitting upright as the realization sinks in. Nothing has happened. No hunters, no alarms, no chaos. Just the sun spilling its light, as if mocking all the fears I had carried into my dreams. I exhale deeply, relief washing over me like a tide pulling back from the shore. Today’s the day. The day we leave the sanctuary. A pang of sadness hits me as I glance around the room. The worn, sturdy furniture, the faint scent of wood and pine, the quiet stillness that had cocooned us for days—it had all become a kind of home. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe here. Tranquil. But the sanctuary isn’t ours to keep. It’s a fleeting refuge, not a permanent haven. Still, a part of me dares to hope. Maybe, after all this is over, we could come back here. When the Council is defeated, when we’ve won our freedom. Maybe then we’ll finally be able to call a p
Jenna’s POVZephyr’s golden eyes glimmer faintly in the dim light of his cell, their intensity muted but not extinguished. He leans heavily against the bars, his strength clearly diminished. The sight of him, once so strong and unyielding, now reduced to this fragile state, makes my chest tighten. “I never thought I’d see you again, little flower,” he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse, barely loud enough to cross the narrow hallway separating us. Hearing that nickname again after so many years sends a wave of warmth through me, thawing the icy fear that’s been gripping my heart since the van door slammed shut. Memories flood back—memories of a time when I’d thought my life was over, only for him to appear like a storm and save me. “Zephyr…” My voice cracks as I speak, the emotions threatening to overwhelm me. “You saved me from those savages. You took me in. Treated me like I was your guest…” He nods, a faint, almost wistful smile tugging at his lips. “I remember.” I grip the bar
Jenna’s POVThe council’s house looms before us, a sprawling, fortress-like structure shrouded in shadows. Its high, jagged walls are topped with razor wire, and ominous black towers rise into the night sky, their floodlights sweeping over the grounds like watchful eyes. The very air around the place feels oppressive, heavy with the weight of suffering and despair. As we’re herded closer, I can make out the details—the thick iron gates, the barred windows, the faint, distant cries of prisoners echoing through the night. My stomach churns, dread pooling in my chest. This isn’t a house. It’s a prison. Inside, the hallways are narrow and dimly lit, lined with heavy steel doors. The scent of mildew and sweat hangs in the air, and the faint sound of dripping water adds to the suffocating atmosphere. The hunters lead us forward, their guns never wavering, and the bracelets on our wrists hum softly, draining our strength with every step. We’re not allowed to talk. The hunters bark orders
Jack's POV Her words hang in the air, and for a moment, no one moves. Then Jenna speaks, her voice steady but low. “You’re bluffing.” Eleanor’s smile widens. “Am I?” She gestures to the interior of the van. “Take a look around.” I glance up, and my stomach tightens. Strapped to the walls and floor of the van are small devices, each with a blinking red light. Bombs. A murmur of alarm spreads through the group. Raina’s eyes widen, and Greta’s face goes pale. Even Violet, always the most composed among us, lets out a soft curse under her breath. “I suggest you behave,” Eleanor continues, her tone almost playful now. “Unless you want to see what happens when I press this little button.” She holds up a small remote, her thumb hovering over it. Eldris growls low in his throat, but I shoot him a warning look. Not yet. “You are disgusting, Eleanor. You're the biggest piece of shit for doing this.” Jenna growls, the hairs on her body standing, her voice changing. For a second, I fear th
Jack’s POV The van’s interior is suffocating, the air thick with tension and the faint scent of blood. Every jolt on the uneven road rattles the metal walls and the people inside. I keep my head low, my arms resting loosely on my knees, but my mind races. I can feel the eyes of my pack on me, searching for answers, waiting for direction. Jenna’s group sits nearby—tense, silent, and wary. When our eyes meet, her gaze softens with understanding. She trusts me now, but the others don’t yet. That’s a problem I’ll have to fix soon. Eldris shifts beside me, his breath hot against my ear as he whispers, "What the bloody hell is really going on?" "You tell me." I shrug. “This isn’t going to end well, Jack. You know that, right?” Jordan leans closer, his tone equally low but filled with frustration. “You’re too calm. They’re leading us straight to a slaughterhouse, and we’re sitting here like sheep.” I glance toward Violet, who’s sitting with her back pressed against the van wall, her f
Jack’s POVThe weight of betrayal hangs thick in the air, and I can see it etched into Jenna’s face. Her expression is raw—disbelief, heartbreak, and guilt all tangled together in her wide eyes and trembling lips. It’s the kind of pain that cuts deep, the kind you can’t just shake off. And yet, I can’t say I’m surprised. I had warned myself from the beginning not to fully trust them. Their desperation had been too palpable. But seeing Jenna like this, I almost wish I hadn’t been right. Almost. Eleanor’s knife remains steady at Greta’s throat as the last of us surrender our weapons. Jordan and Violet exchange glances, their stances tense, but they follow my lead. I meet Jenna’s gaze briefly, and the apology in her eyes is unmistakable. She doesn’t say a word, but she doesn’t need to. Her emotions are written all over her face, and for a moment, I feel a pang of something I can’t quite name. As the hunters bark orders, herding us like cattle, a plan begins to take root in my mind. I
Jenna’s POVThe weight of her betrayal crashes over me like a tidal wave, leaving me breathless. My mind races, trying to piece together the shards of disbelief and reality as I stare at Eleanor, her knife pressed firmly against Greta’s throat. I suddenly recall Raina’s warnings, her sharp, skeptical words about trust. My eyes dart toward her, finding her face etched with sadness and resignation. She isn’t surprised. She knew—maybe not everything, but enough to suspect this. Why had I doubted her? Why had I dismissed her words so easily? Believing that Eleanor would never do a thing like this. That is because she had never given me any reason to suspect. My chest tightens, and I step forward, the need for answers overriding my fear. “Eleanor,” I say, my voice trembling, “what are you doing?” She doesn’t meet my gaze, her focus fixed on Greta, whose wide, terrified eyes plead for rescue. “This isn’t you,” I continue, my voice rising as anger seeps in. “This is insane! You taught
Jenna's POV For a moment, I hesitate, torn between following them and ensuring the safety of my group. That’s when my eyes land on Mia, trembling as Caleb tries to shield her with his body. “Elise,” I whisper, the name slipping from my lips before I even think about it. I spot her near the hallway, ushering two younger children toward the basement door. Her once-familiar face is now a mask of determination, her shoulders squared with an authority that’s both foreign and familiar. “Elise!” I call, moving toward her with quick strides. She turns sharply, her eyes locking on mine. Shock flickers across her face, but it’s fleeting, replaced almost instantly by a cold, unreadable expression. “Elise, please,” I say, my voice trembling as I gesture toward Mia. “Take her with you. She’ll be safer in the basement.” Elise doesn’t reply, her lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, I think she’s going to refuse. “Jenna, are you serious?” Caleb growls from behind me. “We can’t just h
Jenna’s POV Breakfast is tense. The room is quiet save for the occasional clink of cups or the soft murmur of Eleanor and Caleb sharing what little food we have left. Mia picks at her portion, her gaze darting between us as though searching for reassurance that none of us can provide. I clear my throat, pushing back the gnawing unease in my chest. “We need to talk,” I say, my voice steady but firm. Eleanor looks up, her brows furrowing in concern. Caleb leans back in his chair, arms crossed, while Greta and Raina exchange wary glances. “If Jack doesn’t agree to an alliance,” I continue, “then we have to think of a Plan B. We can’t keep waiting here. The hunters are coming—it’s just a matter of when.” Raina scoffs, shaking her head. “And what exactly does Plan B look like? We have no weapons, no backup, and no clue where to go.” “We’ll figure it out,” I say, though I know how hollow the words sound. Eleanor places a hand on my arm, her touch grounding. “Let’s give Jack a chance
Violet's POV The dishwasher hums quietly, its buttons glowing faintly in the dim kitchen light. I glare at it like it’s a wild animal I need to tame. Eldris had shown us this contraption just days ago, explaining its purpose, but I hadn’t been paying attention. The overwhelming strangeness of human life had drowned out most of his words. Now, standing before the machine, I’m regretting that decision. “Elise, how does this thing work again?” I call out, my voice tinged with frustration. Elise doesn’t answer right away. She’s crouched near a small radio-like device on the counter, with buttons and knobs. “Give me a second,” she mutters. “Eldris said this thing plays music, but I can’t figure out how to turn it on.” “Music?” I snap, throwing my hands up. “You’re worried about music while I’m stuck with this metal beast?” Elise shrugs without looking up. “I figured it’d help lighten the mood.” “Lighten the mood?” My voice rises a pitch. “We’re trying to survive in this strange town