Chapter 17

Freya's POV

The ground gave way beneath my paws. One moment I was lunging after the silver-ringed deer, the next I was falling, my stomach lurching as gravity yanked me downward. My claws scrambled for purchase, finding nothing but air. Ember howled in panic inside me.

The impact knocked the breath from my lungs. Pain exploded through my body as multiple silver spikes pierced my flesh—one through my side, another through my hind leg. The burning sensation was immediate and excruciating, like liquid fire being injected into my veins. I couldn't hold back the agonized howl that tore from my throat.

This was no accident. As my vision adjusted to the darkness of the pit, I saw dozens of silver spikes arranged in a cruel pattern across the bottom, each one glistening with an oily substance. The walls rose at least twelve feet high, impossibly steep and smooth. The scent hit me then—wolfsbane extract mixed with something else, something that made my blood feel like it was turning to acid.

I tried to shift back to human form, thinking smaller wounds might be easier to heal, but my body refused to respond. The magic that normally flowed through me during transformation felt blocked, sluggish. Whether from the poison or my pregnancy, I couldn't change.

"The baby!" Panic surged through me as Ember whimpered in distress. We both felt it—the tiny spark of life inside me flickering, weakening under the assault of silver and poison.

My breathing became labored, each inhale burning my lungs. The world started to blur around the edges, colors bleeding together. This wasn't just any trap; it was designed specifically to kill werewolves. The silver prevented healing, while the poison—wolf's bane mixed with what smelled like nightshade—would slowly shut down my organs.

Above me, bushes rustled. I caught Riley's familiar scent, laced with the acrid tang of satisfaction. She was watching, waiting for me to die.

As darkness crept into my vision, my paw brushed against something warm at my neck—Ivy's moonstone pendant. Her words echoed in my mind: ""It can sense danger and make you stronger for a short time, but it only works once. Save it for when you might die.""

If this wasn't dying, I didn't know what was.

With the last of my strength, I pressed my muzzle against the stone and recalled the incantation Ivy had taught me. The words weren't spoken aloud but formed in my mind as I focused on the pendant, on the magic I needed.

""Moonlight's daughter, silver's friend, lend me strength till danger's end.""

For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then the pendant grew hot against my fur, pulsing with silver-blue light that spilled across my wounded body. Warmth flooded through me, pushing back the poison's chill. My vision sharpened suddenly, the dark pit becoming as clear as daylight.

Power surged into my muscles, making them hum with supernatural energy. The burning pain from the silver didn't disappear, but it receded to a dull throb I could manage. Most strangely, I felt Ember rise within me, not as a separate entity but merging completely with my consciousness. For the first time, we weren't two beings sharing one body—we were one.

"Protect the cub," we thought in unison. "Survive."

I yanked my body free from the spikes, blood spraying across the dirt. With my enhanced senses, I could hear my own heartbeat, strong and steady despite my wounds. I could smell the poison trying to spread through my system, but the moonstone's magic was keeping it at bay.

My paws found purchase on the pit wall as I began to climb. Claws that normally couldn't penetrate packed earth now sank in effortlessly, creating handholds. Blood still trickled from my wounds, but I didn't slow down. I could feel the magic had limits—it was already beginning to fade around the edges.

I hauled myself over the edge, collapsing onto the mossy ground. The pendant's glow was already dimming, its magic nearly spent. I forced myself to stand, legs trembling with effort. I had to continue the hunt. This wasn't just about the Zeta position anymore—it was about survival.

As the moonstone's light faded completely, the pain came rushing back with brutal force. My legs buckled, nearly sending me back to the ground. The poison, temporarily held at bay, resumed its work, spreading through my bloodstream with each labored heartbeat.

I stumbled forward anyway, leaving a trail of blood droplets that gleamed silver under the moonlight. Each step was torture, but I kept going, driven by a determination that went beyond reason. My vision began to blur again, reality fracturing into disconnected images.

Suddenly, I wasn't just seeing the forest. Flashes of memory cut through my consciousness—my mother's hands crafting silver jewelry at her workbench, her fingers quick and sure. Then Ethan's face above mine that night we'd been together, his eyes glowing with desire and something else, something almost like recognition. Between these visions, I glimpsed the hazy outline of a wolf cub, small and fragile but with fierce silver eyes.

Ember's consciousness surged and receded within mine, our thoughts becoming tangled. "Keep moving... protect... find safety..." I couldn't tell anymore which thoughts were human and which were wolf. It didn't matter. We both wanted the same thing—to live, to protect our unborn child.

That's when I felt it for the first time—a distinct flutter inside me, not Ember's movement but something else. The cub, responding to our distress with a surge of life force, as if lending us strength. My heart swelled with fierce love and renewed determination.

I managed a few more steps before my legs finally gave out. I collapsed in a small clearing, bathed in moonlight. The ground beneath me vibrated slightly—footsteps approaching, either wolf or human. I had no strength left to run or fight.

As my consciousness faded in and out, a dark shape appeared at the edge of the clearing. Enormous, with black fur shimmering silver in the moonlight. Ethan's wolf form, larger than any other in the pack. His silver eyes blazed with what looked like worry and fury as he approached, a low protective growl rumbling from his chest.

Was this real, or another poison-induced hallucination? I couldn't be sure. I tried to warn him about Riley, about the trap, but could only manage a weak whimper. He came closer, sniffing my wounds, his growl deepening when he detected the poison.

In my last moments of awareness, I felt him gently lift me, his scent wrapping around me like a protective shield. It made no sense—why would Ethan come for me? How had he found me? Had Victor sent him? Or was this just my dying brain creating comforting illusions?

The last thing I felt was Ethan's warm breath against my fur as he gently lifted me, his scent wrapping around me like a protective embrace. Something in that scent seemed to carry a message—concern, perhaps, or a promise of safety.

The sensation faded as consciousness slipped away from me.