6 | Shrubbery

*** Nailo’s POV

How could I be so lucky to find a river so close—a shallow one at that? I nearly fell into it, crawling out into the water with the last of my strength. I flipped onto my side, lying fully in the shallow stream. With a trembling hand, I skimmed through the pebbles along the bottom. Lovely colors glistened up at me from the water—quartz, jasper, pyrite—all so beautiful, but none nearly as precious as the deep black hematite stones that came up in my first handful. Thank the goddess.

Yelling in the distance— I could hear it. Not wasting a moment, I swallowed the whole handful of pebbles I’d scooped up. I wasn’t sure how much hematite I needed to counter the wolfsbane, but hopefully, this would do.

I didn’t have the strength left to get back up, but I did have the strength to crawl and float. As quietly as I could, I scooched farther out into the stream and started making my way on my belly downstream. After a short distance, the water began to get deeper quickly, and the stream widened into what could be a confluence with a river.

Again, I thanked the goddess and allowed the current to pull me along. I flipped onto my back, trying to conserve my energy. There was no way I could swim at this point. It was likely that I’d drown, truth be told, but at least I’d die in the open air and not underneath one of those bastards.

How many years had it been since I’d seen the sky? A beautiful winter night sky with a full moon. I must be delusional because I could no longer focus on the dangers around me; instead, I was absorbed in the simple beauty of the world I’d been locked away from.

I wasn’t sure how long I floated, but at some point, I realized I wasn’t as tired as before. And despite being submerged in a half-frozen river, I wasn’t really cold. Was I just numb? Maybe.

Slowly, I drifted to the opposite side of the riverbank from where I’d started. Struggling, I pulled myself up onto the riverbank, slipping slightly in the mud beneath. If the earth is soft beneath the snow, it must be early winter—the permafrost hasn’t set in yet.

Realizing they’d be able to see my body imprint in the disturbed snow on the banks, I pulled myself all the way out and tried to crawl as best I could, then let myself slide back into the water.

 Perhaps if they caught up with me, they’d follow that as a trail.

Slipping back into the water, I tried to make my way over to the side of the riverbank where I’d originally come from. There was some evergreen shrubbery a little way down, dipping over the river. I crawled up under it and out onto the shore, effectively hiding the point at which I exited the river.

I was sure the wolfsbane’s effects were diminishing, but I had nothing left, and the shrubbery was probably the best cover I could manage at this point.

Curling into a ball, I took my rest underneath. If I survived the night, it would be a miracle.

*** Alpha Eamon's POV

"Clever," Fenri whispered in my mind, his tone a mix of admiration and caution.

“If she’s that clever, how’d they ever capture her to begin with?” I retorted, my eyes narrowing as I scanned the area where she had been just moments before.

"Lout," Fenri huffed, clearly unimpressed with my doubt, before retreating to the back of my mind, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I watched her float down the river from upstream, keeping myself downwind so as not to alert her to my presence. I’d stayed ahead, observing her movements, ready to intervene if necessary.

But she was managing far better than I’d expected, and her little trick on the riverbank—leaving false tracks—was indeed clever. Fenri had a point; she was more resourceful than I’d initially would have thought. If this maneuver succeeded in throwing off my trackers, I’d have to make sure our pack trainers incorporated it into their lessons for our warriors.

The blood bond between us gave me a distinct advantage in following her. My trackers didn’t have that connection, and I was curious to see how long it would take them to find her without it. But when I saw her curl up under the cover of the evergreens, a flicker of concern gnawed at me. The deep of winter hadn’t set in yet, but even in these conditions, exposure could be deadly for a werewolf who hadn’t shifted.

If I were ignorant, I might wonder why she didn’t shift to protect herself. But I had an inkling that she couldn’t. From the moment I’d lifted her out of that hellhole, her weight alone told me she’d been enslaved for many months, possibly even years. The condition she was in when I found her—it wouldn’t surprise me if her wolf was gone, driven deep inside by the trauma. The healing she’d done since then seemed to be solely due to my blood.

I leaned against a tree, my eyes never leaving her small form. Once she fell asleep, I’d slip in and scoop her up. I was satisfied with what I’d seen so far—she wasn’t broken. She had the will to live, and if she could manage this much with so little, I could only imagine what she must have been like once she was restored to her prime.

If those bastards had treated her like a Luna instead of a slave, maybe they would have been strong enough to withstand our uprising. But then, we might never have freed ourselves. Still, I wouldn’t wish the kind of luck she’d had on anyone.

The snow started to fall again, light at first but growing heavier as time passed. I must have been lost in my musings, unaware of how much time had slipped by. When I looked back to where she was curled up, a cold realization struck me—she was gone. Her tracks were already disappearing under the freshly fallen snow.

Damn it.

I moved quickly to where she had been, scanning the ground, but the snow was covering her trail faster than I could find it. Through the bond, I caught a faint sense of her—an echo of her presence. She hadn’t gone far.