Chapter 4

Lina’s POV

The moment my paws touched the soil beyond the Werebear territory, something inside me shifted. The invisible chains that had bound me for so long shattered like ice in spring. Snow's powerful muscles propelled us forward through the darkness, her white fur a blur against the night. For the first time since being sold into slavery, I felt something dangerously close to joy.

We're free, Lina! WE'RE FREE! Snow's voice echoed through our shared consciousness, wild with exhilaration.

I couldn't help myself. Despite the danger, despite knowing Cole's trackers would be after us soon, Snow threw back her head and released a triumphant howl that echoed across the mountains.

Run faster, I urged through our link as distant answering howls reached my sensitive ears. They're coming.

The cold wind whipped through Snow's fur as we raced across the wilderness, her paws barely touching the ground. The sensation was intoxicating after months of confinement. Snow leaped over fallen logs and darted between trees with a grace I'd forgotten we possessed. Her muscles burned with the effort.

I can smell them, Snow growled, her ears flattening against her head. Cole sent his trackers.

I mentally calculated our odds. Cole wouldn't easily surrender a slave he'd claimed as his own—especially not one with fur as rare as Snow's.

They won't take us back, Snow snarled, baring her teeth at the thought. I'd rather die fighting.

As we pushed deeper into the wilderness, I realized we were entering the unclaimed territories—the vast stretch of no-man's-land between pack territories where rogues roamed freely. The danger of our situation wasn't lost on me; we were exchanging one threat for another.

Snow, we need to be careful, I warned.

Behind us, the howls grew closer. Snow's ears twitched backward, tracking the sounds as she navigated through a particularly dense thicket, using the complex northern terrain to our advantage. Her white coat gleamed like a beacon in the moonlight—a deadly disadvantage for an escapee.

We need to hide our fur, I realized suddenly. Your white coat is too visible, too recognizable.

Snow veered sharply to the left, her nose detecting something I initially missed. The pungent smell of mud and rotting vegetation grew stronger as we approached a wide, shallow marsh. Without hesitation, Snow plunged into the muck.

The cold, fetid mud clung to her pristine fur as she rolled frantically, coating her distinctive white coat with layers of dark, stinking sludge. The beautiful fur that had made us so valuable to Cole was now completely disguised beneath a crust of filth.

This won't fool their noses for long, Snow panted as she struggled back to her feet, now considerably heavier with mud. But it might buy us some time.

Snow's response was tinged with uncertainty. I can only hold this form while the moon is high, Lina. I don't know how far the Northern Pack territory is. We should find something to cover our scent.

We pressed on, our pace slightly slower with the added weight of mud. The night air grew increasingly bitter as we climbed higher into the mountains. Snow's enhanced vision spotted a glimmer ahead—the moonlight reflecting off a partially frozen lake nestled between towering pines.

Without hesitation, Snow plunged into the icy water. The cold was so intense it felt like thousands of knives stabbing into my skin. Snow submerged as much of her body as possible while still keeping her head above water, finding a spot where the water was deep enough to hide in but shallow enough to stand.

Moon Goddess, I prayed silently, if you have any mercy left for me, please don't let them find us. I'd rather die in these woods than go back to Cole's tent.

We remained perfectly still, the frigid water numbing our body. Snow controlled her breathing, taking shallow, silent breaths that wouldn't disturb the water's surface. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as we waited, muscles cramping from the cold and the strain of immobility.

The snap of branches and low growls announced their arrival. Five massive shapes emerged from the trees. One of the trackers, larger than the others, approached the lake's edge. His nostrils flared as he tested the air, and for one heart-stopping moment, his gaze seemed to fix directly on our hiding spot. I felt Snow's muscles tense, ready to fight if discovered.

But then another scent seemed to distract him—perhaps a deer or some other prey animal. After a few agonizing moments of indecision, he grunted something to the others, and they moved away from the lake, continuing their search in the wrong direction.

We remained frozen in place long after their sounds had faded, unwilling to risk discovery by moving too soon. Only when the forest had been silent for what seemed like an eternity did Snow carefully extract herself from the lake, her movements slow and deliberate to minimize noise.

We need to keep moving, I urged, feeling the moon's position shifting in the sky. You'll lose your form when the moon sets.

We raced through a dense pine forest, the needles cushioning our footfalls and helping to mask our scent. The night was beginning to wane, the moon gradually descending toward the horizon. Snow's strength was fading with it, her movements becoming less fluid as she pushed herself to the limit.

I can't hold on much longer, Snow whimpered as the moon began to set. The shift is coming.

As dawn approached, we found a small clearing surrounded by thick underbrush. The moon had nearly disappeared, and I felt the familiar pull of transformation beginning. Snow's form wavered, her strength ebbing as the moonlight faded. Pain shot through our body as bones and muscles began to reshape themselves.

The transformation left me naked and shivering in the snow, my human skin blue with cold. I hugged myself, teeth chattering violently as I tried to generate some warmth. Without Snow's fur, the bitter cold was potentially lethal.

That's when I smelled it—the unmistakable stench of decay, but stronger, more pungent than rotting meat. My head snapped up, and through the swirling snow of the sudden blizzard, I saw it—a rogue wolf, its mangy fur hanging in clumps from an emaciated frame, eyes gleaming with hunger and madness.

The rogue's scent was wrong—tainted with something foul that made my stomach turn. Despite the howling blizzard, the stench of rot clung to it like a second skin. It stalked toward me, saliva dripping from yellowed fangs.

Lina! Snow's panicked voice filled my mind. I can't shift again—I'm too weak!

Terror flooded through me as the rogue lunged. I twisted away, my naked body skidding across the frozen ground as its jaws snapped shut mere inches from my throat. The sound of teeth clacking together sent ice through my veins. Though the wolf was gaunt with starvation, its eyes burned with a feverish strength born of desperation and madness.

"Stay away from me!" I screamed, my voice breaking as I scrambled backward.

The rogue stalked forward, its matted fur crusted with old blood, yellow teeth bared in a snarl that promised death. My heart hammered so violently I thought it might burst from my chest.

I kicked, clawed, and twisted like the cornered animal I was. When the rogue's teeth finally sank into my forearm, the pain was white-hot and immediate. I shrieked as my blood splattered across the pristine snow, the crimson droplets steaming in the frigid air. My fingers found its eye and dug in deep, but the rogue merely growled and bit down harder. The crushing pressure on my arm bones made me sob with agony, my vision spotting black at the edges.

It knocked me to the ground, its weight pinning me as it went for my throat. In a moment of desperate clarity, I grabbed a jagged icicle that had formed on a nearby branch and drove it deep into the rogue's eye with all my strength.

The wolf howled in agony, temporarily blinded. Using the moment of distraction, I somehow managed to flip our positions, straddling the thrashing beast. Fueled by pure survival instinct, I rained blows upon its head, each strike more frantic than the last.

With a final surge of desperate strength, I grasped the rogue's head and twisted violently. The sickening crack of its neck breaking echoed through the clearing, and the body beneath me went limp.

I collapsed beside the dead rogue, gasping for breath, my naked body smeared with blood—both mine and the wolf's. The wound on my arm throbbed painfully, but I couldn't afford to rest. Cole's trackers could still be hunting us, and the rogue's pack might be nearby.

Forcing myself to my feet, I staggered forward, each step agony on my bare feet. The blizzard intensified, the wind cutting through my naked skin like knives. I had no idea where I was going; I simply knew I had to keep moving or freeze to death.

After what seemed like hours of stumbling through the snow, I detected a change in the scents around me. The scent was unfamiliar but distinctly wolf, not bear.

The Northern Pack, I realized with a surge of hope. We made it to their territory.

I opened my mouth to to beg for asylum, when a sharp pain stabbed the back of my neck. As consciousness began to fade, I heard a male voice command: "She reeks of bear. Take her to the cells and wait for the Alpha Leo's judgment."