Aria’s POV

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    The forest roared around us, alive with snapping branches, jagged roots, and the coppery tang of blood and fear. My lungs screamed, my legs burned, and yet Sia surged beneath my skin, coiling and stretching with raw power, pushing me faster than I thought humanly–or welfishly–possible. Lucien was beside me, every muscle taut, his golden eyes scanning the shadows with predatory precision. His scent poured into the air, a fierce, golden ze that made Sia roar in recognition and hunger.

    Behind us, the Western Pack’s pursuit was relentless. Growls cut through the night, paws pummeling the earth, scents thick and bitter, trailing like a curse. Every step I took, I could feel their desire for blood closing the distance. And yet, weaving through the chaos, I sensed the faint ripples of magic in the air. Maeryn. Silent, unseen, she bent the forest to our favor- fallen trees tripping our pursuers, roots twisting to dy them, mist rising to cloud their vision. Without her, we wouldn’t have survived the first ten minutes.

    I tried to focus on the present, but fragments of memory wed at the edges of my mind, unbidden. Dark cells, the smell of rot, the cold weight of chains pressing into my wrists. Faces I loved–and who had betrayed me. My father, mother, even my brother… all turned against me, leaving me alone in a ck pit of despair. Pain, hunger, abuse. Every scream, every insult, everysh pressed itself into my soul.

    And then, as if stepping out from the shadows of memory, a face appeared. A man I had seen in my dreams, a vague shadow that had haunted my nights. He held me, his arms a sanctuary, whispering that he would always protect me. The memory shivered and flickered, details sharpening… until the shadow coalesced into the golden–eyed man running beside me now. Lucien. It was him. It had always been him. Riley. That was my name. My true name. The truth shed through me with all the force of a wolf’s bite.

    I gasped, Sia surging in frantic excitement. “Lucien…” The syble burned on my lips, half in disbelief, half in relief.

    He turned to me, the storm in his golden eyes colliding with mine. “Riley… my Riley,” he whispered, voice breaking, trembling with raw emotion. “It’s really you… you’re alive.”

    Before I could respond, before I could even process the truth, his hands were on my face, ripping away the mask that had hidden my identity for so long. His touch was electric, reverent, desperate. And the moment our eyes locked fully, tears streaked down his face. He pulled me into a fierce embrace, trembling, his wolf snarling in pure, uncontained joy. “Riley… it’s really you… my Riley… alive…”

    The relief was almost overwhelming, almost. Almost, because the sounds of the Western Pack

    9:10 Frib, /bSep 12

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    grew louder again–snapping branches, the barked orders, the pounding of paws against earth. We had only a few seconds to savor recognition before the hunt resumed.

    We ran again, hearts pounding in synchrony, wolf and human, mate and mate, bound by instinct and fate. We darted through thick underbrush, leapt across fallen logs, ducked under twisted vines. Every corner held death, every shadow a threat. But with each pulse of adrenaline, more fragments of memory returned. Hints of my childhood in the Eastern Pack, lessons learned under cruel eyes, the training that had shaped me, the whispers of a destiny I had almost forgotten. And through it all, the golden thread of Lucien’s presence held me upright, grounded, tethered to truth.

    –

    Hours or maybe minutes–passed in a blur of motion. Exhaustion wed at my muscles, Sia coiled tightly, ws slicing the dirt, teeth bared in unrelenting determination. The Western Pack had narrowed the gap, relentless as wolves in hunger. And then, the forest opened into a ravine, sheer walls on either side, rocks jagged and treacherous. Ahead, a dead end. Behind us, relentless pursuers. Trapped.

    Lucien’s hands pressed firmly against my shoulders, grounding me. “Riley… stay with me. Focus. We survive. Together.”

    I nodded, letting Sia surge forward, leaping instinctively with him, trusting his body, trusting his wolf. My memory flickered again: the prison, the chains, the screams, the nights of torment. And over it all, his promise–golden eyes, warmth, protection. The bond was undeniable. I was Riley, and he was mine.

    Wended on the rocky outcrop, panting, hearts hammering. The Western Pack was still closing, snarling, teeth bared. And then… the wind shifted. A scent, clear and sharp, cutting through the fear and smoke of the hunt. East Pack. The insignias gleamed in the moonlight, banners snapping, paws pounding the earth with precision. Reinforcements. Rescue.

    Lucien’s arms tightened around me, his wolf coiling protectively around mine. “They’re here,” he growled, golden eyes zing with triumph and relief. “Riley… we’re safe. For now.”

    I exhaled shakily, letting the moment wash over me. Sia purred, twisting and snapping in celebration. For the first time in years, rity returned. I was Riley. Alive. Unbroken. And in Lucien’s embrace, I felt the world stabilize, even as danger still lingered.

    Lucien lowered his head, golden eyes scanning mine. “Riley… this is just the beginning. But you’re mine. Always.”

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