chapter 8

Felza’s POV

Everything was moving so fast. I couldn’t make sense of what had happened. It was very strange and concerning. I squeezed my face hard and sat there, lost in my own thoughts.  

Rhys had attacked me, bruising and pummelling me. My heart felt worse; my body hurt. When he told me we had consummated our marriage, I felt like I was drowning in a sea of hopelessness. I had woken up in his bed and the scent of his perfume choked me. His terrible eyes seared into my head, and I could hardly look at him without feeling queasy.

There was a time when this same chambers felt like a display of the authority I shared with Rhys, now it felt nothing like that but a hell hole. It felt like a prison, a jail! And I had to breakaway as quickly as possible. 

Chris showed up just as promised. I felt a flutter of optimism when I saw him standing at the brink of the trees close to the packhouse. 

His eyes reflected worry, and for a moment I felt safe. We both knew, though, we had time to waste. When Rhys came seeking for me and discovered I had fled, there would be no compassion. 

Chris murmured, "We have to move quickly," his voice soft but urgent. I nodded, mute. Tight in my throat, I battled the tears that tried to flow. 

Not while we were so near to freedom—not now could I break down. Chris set the example, his motions deliberate and swift. I followed, my chest thumping in time.

The evening was black, the moon buried under heavy clouds. Every sound set me off, every shadow seemed to be a threat. Like a dark cloud hovering over us, Rhys's presence could be felt, and the anxiety bit me from inside.

"We'll make it, Felza.” Chris promised, sounding as though he sensed my anxiety. 

My voice quivered, "I don't know, Chris," I said. "What would happen if he find us? What if we fail, what would happen?”, he turned to face me, hands softly touching my face.

His touch felt cozy and reassuring. "We are going to make it". I won't let anything happen to you, he insisted. 

"I promised to protect you, and I will." I wanted to start believing him. 

I wanted to believe everything would be fine. But I stayed tormented by the image of Rhys's icy, merciless eyes. Strong, merciless, he would stop at nothing to have what he wanted. 

We carried on across the deep woodland, the ground uneven and dangerous, the branches grazing at our skin. 

Sensing the peril, my wolf roused within me and pushed me to sprint faster. Still weak from the attack, though, I was tired and battled to keep up with Chris. Chris urged, "just a little further," looking back at me. 

My Then I heard it—the sound of footsteps quick and forceful, closing on us. My heart shot into my throat, and I knew without a doubt it was Rhys's Men. 

They were catching up with us. "Run!" Chris yelled. Our breaths came in frantic gasps as we rushed over the woods. The footsteps got louder, approaching. The growls, the snarls, the sound of wolves —I could hear it. My legs felt like lead, my body screaming in protest as my panic descended into terror and I pushed myself to run faster. 

“Come on, Felza!” Chris whimped, taking my hand and dragging me along. Still, it was useless. They were far too close and too quick. Their presence closed in like a pack of ravenous wolves all around us. Then, just when I thought we may get away, I staggered and my foot caught on a stump. I stumbled hard on the floor and flogged my face to the ground. 

"Felza!" Chris yelled out, then dropped to his knees next to me. "I can't..." Tears flowing down my cheeks, Chris—” I gasped, unable to do it. "I just can’t. I'm too weak." Pulling me to my feet, he exclaimed angrily, "No, you're not!" "You are Felza, powerful. You are stronger than you could possibly realise.” But they were upon us before we could go further. Men gathered us, their predatory thirst shining in their eyes. 

Rhys men now there, there was nowhere to run to. We found ourselves surrounded. "Wait back!" Chris cautioned, his voice shaking with both fear and rage. Nevertheless, they paid no attention. 

Their low-grade, ominous growls drew us in close. Desperate to guard us, my wolf raced ahead, but I was too weak to change. Though it felt like a far-off echo, just out of grasp, I could sense her might. Chris swore, jumping in front of me ready to fight, "We won't let them take us." But something unanticipated occurred as he was about to attack. From the shadows, a gang of wolves surfaced—bigger, more strong than Rhys's soldiers. Their fur black and shiny, their eyes blazing with a deadly glare, they were ferocious. 

Their pack was rival. Everything was calm at first; the strain was so strong I could not breathe. Then all at once, the competing pack charged, their claws slashing and their jaws snapping. Around us, chaos broke out as battle sounded everywhere. 

My head whirled as I attempted to make sense of what was occurring, I could hardly see through the uncertainty. As the two packs collided, Chris grabbed my hand and pulled me back; the warring wolves were unrelenting. Their cruelty of tearing into Rhys's soldiers was horrifying to see. 

Blood sprayed the floor, as yells and snarls permeated the air. "We must leave!" Trying to get me away from the bloodshed, Chris yelled. But one of the competing wolves pounced on us with jaws bared before we could flee. Chris drove me aside, but the wolf moved too quickly. Its fangs locking around his shoulder, it attacked him to the ground. NO! I yelled in fright, seeing the gory scene.

Chris battled under the wolf, his face twisted in agony, and I watched in powerless dread. Though I wanted to save him, dread and tiredness froze and paralysed me. Furious and hungry, my wolf howled inside me but I couldn't move. The wolf was wrenched away from Chris just when I felt everything was lost, its body thumping into a tree with a terrible force. Another wolf, even bigger, stood over Chris, staring at me.

Something about this wolf made my blood stop cold; it seemed familiar. Then it happened—something I never could have predicted. The wolf moved, its form twisting and turning until a man replaced it. a man I too well knew, Rhys. He stared at Chris, who lay still on the ground, mercilessly. Though he said nothing, his demeanour spoke for itself. In that instant, I realised he had located us and that escape was nowhere. 

The hope I had held onto broke, replaced with a terrible fear. Then, though, a low, threatening voice sliced through the anarchy, as if the planet itself had gone insane. "Rhys," it murmured, the voice making me shudder down my spine. "You've gone past the queue." 

My heart thumping in my chest, I turned slowly and my breath stopped in my throat. 

Every sense in me shouted that he was someone dangerous, someone not to be trifled with, and his presence was forceful, overwhelming. but who was he? And with us, what was his desired outcome?’