I pushed myself harder, even as Victoria gasped. I gripped her legs and fastened her closer around me. She should not worry about falling. I would never let that happen.
Sweet Victoria. She didn’t know how much she’d helped me during these last few days.
After she had freed me from the cage and I’d escaped back through the portal, I’d never felt more vulnerable in my life. Even after I’d managed to climb a tree and escape being noticed, I could barely register it as a victory. A crippling despair had clawed at my chest, taking over my mind and practically blinding me. The very basis of my existence was my family, and in my entire life, I had never been alone. They were my foundation. My epicenter. My meaning. We’d done everything together since I’d been a cub. We’d hunted, eaten, fought, defended, laughed, cried, rejoiced as one. Being the youngest of seven siblings, I’d never known a world without them.
After watching them stripped from me before my very eyes, it felt like my chest had been gouged open. Most of what had happened next was a blur. I’d just been aware of the pain, inside, not outside, even as they maimed me.
Then Victoria the stranger had arrived outside my cage and insisted I be freed. It was that glimmer of kindness she’d shown me that had sparked life in me again, that fleeting connection with another feeling, living being. Fragile human that she was, she had unknowingly fulfilled a need so deep within me, so primal, that it breathed soul into me.
After I had left her to return through the portal, escaped the compound, and stumbled through the woods outside, I hadn’t been sure what I should do or where I should go. The world had seemed vacant and I’d wondered why I was even still in it. Nothing made sense. Nothing seemed fair.
Then I had heard Victoria’s cry for help, and it had been a call straight to my heart. Her vulnerability became my strength. Suddenly, purpose returned to me. There was somebody who needed me. Somebody who was kind and had shown goodwill toward me needed it back in return. As I had raced back to the compound, somehow, I’d managed to block out all other thoughts from my mind. The desperation. The grief. My only focus had become saving Victoria.
She’d become my salvation in that long, dark night, as I raced her away to safety.
I was not sure what I would have done without her. I didn’t know how I would’ve coped returning to my lair only to find out that my uncle and cousin had been the betrayers… or whether I would have had the fortitude now to face what was up ahead of us. It would kill me when we finally discovered a portal. The Northstones might be my relatives by blood, but they were not by soul. I felt closer to Victoria than I did to them, and I barely even knew her.
“Do you know how much longer it will be?” Victoria murmured against my ear, lifting me from my reverie.
Poor girl. She had done so much traveling of late, and there would be much more to do yet. Still, I would look after her. I would make sure that she was as comfortable as possible. She need not fear while I was around.
“We can lower to the ground to check now,” I said, realizing that hers was a good question. “I think we’re nearing our destination. The Bonereavers do not live so far from the Northstones.”
As loath as I was to leave this wondrous world of open sky and treetops, I descended with Victoria to the ground.
As I gazed around, it appeared that we had traveled quite far ahead of the rest of the wolves. They were nowhere in sight yet. I smirked to myself as I imagined the look on Brucella’s face as I had lifted Victoria up into the trees and out of sight. She fully believed that I would still marry her daughter. And she would continue to harass me about it. But I could not step into that cage. I did not love Rona the way I guessed a lover should. I did not know exactly how one ought to feel—for I had never been in love—but from the bond I’d witnessed between my parents, I knew that it should be something stronger, something more powerful, than what I felt for my cousin. If my refusal to wed her meant that I had to be “single” all my life, as Victoria had put it, then so be it. I refused to let Brucella put chains on me.
Encircling a bush several feet to our right, I pointed out to Victoria the large gaping hole in the ground—the entrance to the Bonereavers’ abode.
“At least there are no hunters around,” Victoria said, her eyes darting across the enclosure.
I looked around again. The Northstones still had not caught up with us.
A snapping of twigs drew my attention from behind. I whirled around to see a man springing from the bushes. He was unmistakably a Bonereaver. I grimaced at the sight. Crude people who talked too much and did too little, with egos bigger than the moon.
I recognized this werewolf by face, though not by name. He was thickly built with long shaggy hair and a beard that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in a week. He was shorter than me, though, I had my parents’ fine bloodlines to thank for the fact that I was taller and larger than most wolves in The Woodlands, especially after shifting.
He raised a spear he’d been clutching in one hand and poised it in front of him, pointing it toward my chest.
I backed Victoria against the bushes and stood firmly in front of her, even as I swept out my bow and an arrow from my satchel. I considered simply turning into a wolf to scare him off, but I did not want to rip my clothes just now. I only had a limited number of sets in my satchel, and I certainly did not want to waste one on a Bonereaver.
“What are you doing here?” the man snarled. His eyes flickered from Victoria—mostly hidden behind me—to me.