Into the Night

CALLIOPE'S POV

"King? I don't know anyone by that name," I mutter under my breath, my voice barely more than a ragged whisper in the dark.

I do not give the ravenous newborn another second to gloat. The immediate threat of this feral hybrid triggers a lethal survival instinct buried deep inside my bones. Feigning weakness for a fraction of a heartbeat, I drop my weight slightly, then explode upward with lethal precision. I drive my knee directly into his chest.

The sickening crunch of breaking ribs echoes loudly, filling the narrow, damp alleyway with the sound of snapping bone.

The hybrid lets out a piercing, unnatural howl. His iron grip on my throat falters, his red eyes widening in shock as agonizing pain rips through him. I drop to the dirty ground, gasping for precious air, but I waste zero time recovering. I lunge forward. My hands clamp firmly around his pale, clammy neck. I twist with a harsh, decisive snap.

He drops like a heavy stone. His head rests at an unnatural, twisted angle against the cobblestones, his limbs sprawling uselessly in the filth. I step back, panting hard, wiping a smear of blood from my trembling chin. I know he isn't dead. The cursed vampire healing running through his veins ensures his bones will knit back together, leaving him unconscious for a day or so. I showed him mercy, sparing his life when I could have easily ripped his throat out and burned his body to ash to hide my tracks.

But his ominous words hang over me like a suffocating dark cloud. Who is the King?

I push past his limp body, leaning heavily against the cold brick wall. A sinking, terrifying realization washes over my trembling form. Valerie already suspects me of being something other than human. Now, I have tangled with a rogue hybrid in pack territory. My distinct, unmasked scent is smeared all over this beaten newbie. The pack guards will track the scent of my blood and the wolfsbane. I will undoubtedly become their prime target once again.

Remaining in Onyx Moon territory is a guaranteed death sentence. I have no other choice. I have to run.

Ignoring the agonizing, sharp pain still tearing through my burned organs from the toxic wolfsbane, I force my shaking legs to move.

I rush back to my apartment building as fast as my battered body allows. I take the stairs two at a time, my lungs burning fiercely with every desperate breath. I shove the key into the lock, twisting it open and throwing myself inside. I don't stop in the living room to scold Declan and Chloe for leaving their mess on the couch again. I storm straight into my small bedroom and drag my old, weathered duffel bag from under the narrow bed.

I frantically begin shoving clothes into the main compartment. Jeans, shirts, a heavy jacket. My hands shake uncontrollably, making the simple task feel monumental.

"Calliope? Is something wrong?"

Chloe bursts into the room. Her voice is thick with genuine human worry. She stares at my chaotic packing, her eyes wide with sudden alarm.

I ignore her question, grabbing a handful of socks and stuffing them into the side pocket. I just need to cross the pack border before tomorrow morning.

"Calliope! I am talking to you." Chloe steps closer. Her hand reaches out, gently but firmly grabbing my wrist, forcing my frantic movements to a sudden halt.

I freeze. My heart hammers ruthlessly against my bruised ribs. I force a strained, deceptive smile onto my face, masking the sheer terror bubbling underneath. I pry her hand away, softening my grip so I don't hurt her delicate human skin.

"Nothing," I lie smoothly through my teeth, turning back to the heavy bag. "Nothing is wrong. I am just going on a sudden vacation."

Chloe stays standing in the doorway, staring at me confusedly while I zip the bag shut and swing the heavy strap over my aching shoulder.

"Don't worry," I offer another false smile. "I will be back."

She lets out a long sigh, the tension visibly leaving her shoulders. "You never go anywhere, so I got worried when you just started throwing things in a bag out of nowhere."

She steps back into the hallway, where Declan is leaning against the wall, looking equally confused by my erratic behavior.

"She is just going on vacation," Chloe tells him. Declan nods, relaxing his stance and offering a small wave.

It breaks my heart. They don't know the truth about me, about the monsters lurking in the woods, yet they have been my only anchor to a normal life. I stroll over to them. I pull Chloe into a tight, lingering hug, breathing in her simple, comforting scent. Then I wrap my arms around Declan, squeezing him just as tight.

I bid a silent, final, and heartbreaking goodbye to the only true friends I have known in this bleak world. I know with unwavering certainty I will never return. The brutal reality is, I might not even survive to see the sunrise tomorrow. Leaving them behind feels like tearing a piece of my soul away, but keeping them safe means walking out that door and never looking back.

Leaving the small apartment behind, I pull my jacket tight against the evening chill and retreat deep into the dense, unwelcoming forest. I have planned for this day. I always knew I would eventually have to escape.

I find solace in a hidden, damp cave tucked behind a veil of thick, overgrown vines. Sitting on the cold, unforgiving stone, I agonizingly wait out the daylight hours. Spending the entirety of my eighteenth birthday hiding like a hunted animal in the dirt is profoundly miserable. My stomach growls with hunger. My chest aches with every breath. But it is strictly necessary for survival.

The agonizing hours drag on slowly. Wolves are significantly more active at night, and the border patrols will be out scanning the perimeter. But under the thick, protective cover of darkness, I have an advantage. By some miracle, the lingering remnants of the potion ensure I still smell strictly human. The distant guards will just think I am a lost, wandering human if they catch a faint whiff of me in the breeze.

When the bright illumination of the full moon finally filters through the hanging vines, I know it is time to move.

Slinging my heavy bag over my aching shoulder, I step cautiously out from the damp cave. The fresh, earthy scent of the forest fills my lungs, grounding my scattered thoughts. I look up at the celestial body hanging brilliantly in the night sky.

"Help me, Moon Goddess," I whisper into the cold air, a desperate prayer escaping my lips. "Don't let me die before meeting him."

The sheer refusal to die before looking into the eyes of my other half fuels my exhausted limbs. I cannot perish in these woods without knowing my mate.

I carefully navigate the treacherous terrain of the forest. The ground is slick with evening dew, thick roots threatening to trip me at every cautious step. My lungs heave painfully, the lingering wolfsbane burning my insides. Yet, the promise of freedom draws tantalizingly close. The border is just ahead.

However, through my wolfsbane-blurred vision, I spot a massive, intimidating silhouette standing perfectly still in the distance.

A man.

I freeze in my tracks. My blood runs ice cold. I squint, trying to focus my failing eyes, but the poison in my system makes the dark woods spin around me. I shake my head, willing my trembling legs to keep moving, planning to slip past him in the shadows.

Then, the scent hits me.

He is a werewolf.

Panic should set in, but it doesn't. Instead, a sweet, intoxicating, mind-altering wave of rich rosewood washes over me. It drowns out the smell of pine and damp earth. It bypasses my rational mind and sinks straight into my core, rewriting every instinct I possess.

Instead of the primal urge to turn and flee, an invisible, undeniable magnetic thread latches onto my soul. It pulls me helplessly toward the towering figure standing in the moonlight.

My heart races frantically against my bruised ribs. My palms sweat with sudden anticipation. My body moves on its own accord. I take a hesitant step. Then another. I stumble closer and closer, drawn like a moth to a devastating, beautiful flame.

Who is he? I need to know. I must know.

I am standing directly in front of him before my fractured mind can even process the distance. He is impossibly huge. My small frame barely reaches his muscular neck. The pale moonlight catches the sharp angles of his broad shoulders, cutting through the shadows. His gray sweatshirt does nothing to hide his powerful, imposing build.

My gaze traces upward, landing on his face. He has a flawlessly chiseled jaw. His lips are plump, carrying a striking dark cherry hue. His straight nose rests perfectly above them. And then, he looks down at me.

Striking, piercing silver-gray eyes lock onto mine.

In that singular moment, all the air vanishes from my lungs. Electrifying tingles erupt across every inch of my skin, shooting down my spine and pooling in my chest. The agonizing pain from the wolfsbane melts away into nothingness. I feel incredibly drunk on his commanding presence. My frantic heartbeat slows down, syncing to a heavy, sacred rhythm that matches his own.

"Mate."

The heavy, sacred word spills involuntarily from my parted lips before my mind can even process the magnitude of the moment.

I stare into his silver-gray eyes, my soul singing, reaching out for the beautiful, romantic reunion I have begged the Moon Goddess for my entire miserable life.

But the beautiful, long-awaited fantasy is instantaneously shattered.

Without warning, another distinct, frantic female voice echoes inside my head.

"RUN!"