Left to Die

 

“The forest will take care of her,” someone muttered.

Selene’s head lolled forward, her vision swimming as rough hands dragged her through the underbrush. Every breath burned. Every muscle screamed. Blood trickled from the gashes on her arms, sticky and warm against the night air. She wasn’t sure how long they had been hauling her, but the thick scent of pine and damp earth told her they had long since left the pack’s territory.

This was where they sent the exiled—the ones not worth a quick death. No wolf had ever returned from these woods.

“She should be dead already,” one of the guards grumbled, his grip tightening on her wrist as she stumbled. “Alpha’s orders were clear.”

The second man—her would-be executioner—hesitated. “He wanted her dead, yeah. But…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “You know the stories. The old ones. The prophecy.”

Selene forced her head up, blinking against the blood dripping into her eyes. She didn’t have the strength to speak, but she memorized their faces. If she lived through this night, she would remember.

The first guard scoffed. “That’s nonsense.”

“Is it?” The executioner glanced around, uneasy. “The last Luna to be cast out like this—she didn’t just die. She became something else. And if this one—”

“Shut up.” A shove sent her sprawling to the dirt.

Selene landed hard, agony blooming through her ribs. Stars burst in her vision, but she gritted her teeth, using the pain to stay conscious. They thought she was weak. A discarded Luna, helpless and broken.

They were wrong.

She moved fast—faster than they expected. Snatching a jagged rock from the ground, she drove it into the nearest guard’s leg. He howled, staggering back. She was already on the second one, using his shock to slam her elbow into his throat. He choked, stumbling, but he wasn’t down.

Selene ran.

Branches clawed at her face as she tore through the trees, ignoring the burning in her lungs. The night blurred around her, but she didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Footsteps thundered behind her—shouts, curses—but the forest was on her side. The darkness swallowed her whole, and for the first time in years, she felt free.

She didn’t make it far.

Her body, battered and bleeding, betrayed her. She tripped on a root, barely catching herself before tumbling into the river below. She crawled to the edge, gasping. The water was dark, the current strong. Her limbs trembled. She could still hear them searching, their voices distant but closing in.

No choice.

With one last breath, Selene pushed off the bank and let the river take her.

The cold was a shock—icy fingers dragging her down. The world spun, twisting in black and silver as she fought to keep her head above water. But her strength was fading, the edges of her vision darkening.

She reached for the shore—missed.

The last thing she saw before everything went black again was a shadow moving along the riverbank. A figure, tall and unmoving.

Then—nothing.

Selene woke to warmth.

It didn’t make sense. She should be dead. The river should have swallowed her whole, her broken body claimed by the depths. Instead, there was firelight flickering against her closed eyelids, the scent of damp earth, and—fur?

She opened her eyes.

The world wavered at first. She was lying on something soft—moss, maybe—with the faintest hint of warmth pressing against her side. It took a moment for her vision to clear. She was in a cave. Shadows flickered against the rough stone walls, cast by a small fire crackling near the entrance. Her clothes were still damp, clinging to her skin, but someone had wrapped a thick pelt around her shoulders.

And she wasn’t alone.

A wolf sat across from her.

Massive. Dark. Watching.

Selene tensed, instinct prickling along her spine. It wasn’t one of her pack. She would have recognized the scent. No, this one smelled of the wild—of the forest, rain, and something else, something older. Its eyes gleamed amber in the firelight, locked onto her with unnerving intelligence.

Not just a wolf. A shifter.

Her throat was raw, her body aching, but she forced her voice to work. “Who—”

The wolf rose, shaking out its thick coat before stepping into the shadows.

Selene tried to push herself upright, but pain lanced through her side. She hissed, pressing a hand to her ribs. Cracked, at least. Maybe broken. The river had done a number on her, and the fight before that hadn’t helped.

A sound drew her attention back to the cave entrance. The wolf was gone. In its place stood a man.

He was tall—lean muscle wrapped in dark leathers, his long coat damp from the rain outside. His hair was black, falling past his shoulders in tangled waves, and his face was sharp, striking, with an edge that spoke of something dangerous.

But it was his eyes that held her still.

Golden. Unnatural.

A rogue.

Selene’s heart pounded, but she forced herself to stay calm. Rogues weren’t to be trusted. She’d been raised on that lesson. Rogues had no loyalty, no honor. They were the wild things cast out of society, the ones too broken to function within a pack.

Then again, so was she.

The man tilted his head, studying her like she was some strange puzzle he hadn’t quite figured out yet. “You fight like a wolf who doesn’t want to die.” His voice was low, edged with amusement.

Selene gritted her teeth. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“No,” he agreed, stepping closer. “But I know this forest. I know what happens to the ones left here.”

Selene’s fingers twitched toward the nearest sharp object—a rock, a splintered bone near the fire. Anything.

His gaze flicked to her hand, and his mouth curled at the corner. Not quite a smile. “If I wanted you dead, you’d still be at the bottom of that river.”

He had a point. Didn’t mean she trusted him.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

The rogue crouched near the fire, feeding it another log. He didn’t answer immediately.

Finally, he glanced at her, his golden eyes flickering in the firelight. “Names have power,” he said. “And you’ve already lost enough of yours.”

Selene’s breath caught.

The words hit harder than she wanted them to. She had lost everything—her title, her pack, her place in the world. Even her name, the name that should have carried weight, had been stripped from her lips when Darius cast her out.

The rogue must have seen something in her face, because his expression shifted. Less amusement now. More consideration.

“You can call me whatever you like,” he said at last, settling back on his heels. “For now, you need to rest.”

Selene clenched her jaw. She didn’t trust him. She had no reason to. But she was too weak to run, too broken to fight.

For now, she would play along.

But the moment she could stand again—she would find her own way.

She would make them all pay.