Chapter 8 Running Toward Death
8: Running Toward Death
If there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s this: I make bad decisions. Monumentally bad. Like, “click the suspicious email link” bad. Or “eat questionable gas station sushi” bad.
But running away from a tyrant alpha after kissing him under the stars? That one takes the crown.
I didn’t sleep. Shocking, I know. You’d think after almost making out (exaggeration wishful thinking) with the most terrifying man-wolf in Lunareth, I’d be out cold from sheer emotional exhaustion. But no. My brain was doing the cha-cha at three a.m.
Replay #1: The way his lips brushed mine.
Replay #2: The way his forehead rested against mine like he’d been… waiting.
Replay #3: His voice: “Say the word, and I will stop.”
And then the terrifying part: the fact that I didn’t want him to stop.
What are you doing, Kiera? my conscience hissed. He’s the villain. The tyrant alpha. The literal reason this world is falling apart.
Right. Right. I’m not Aria Quinn. I’m Kiera-from-21st-century, reader of cliché werewolf novels, sucker for enemies-to-lovers tropes, and now apparently… a walking, talking glitch in the storyline.
The script was already breaking. Rowan was supposed to be the hero, Aria the Luna, Lucian the villain. But Lucian kissed me, not her. And worse, I kissed him back—well, emotionally, spiritually. My lips were still in shock, thank you very much.
If this story had rails, I’d officially derailed it.
By the time the sun rose, I had a plan.
Not a good plan, mind you. But a plan.
If getting into this book world was some cosmic accident, maybe getting out required… death.
Yeah. I know how that sounds.
But think about it: every time the heroine in a portal fantasy “dies” in the other world, she wakes up safe and sound back home. Narnia kids? Fell out of wardrobes, lived to tell the tale. Alice? Survived Wonderland. Even Dorothy went home after a tornado tried to kill her.
So maybe if I died in Lunareth, I’d wake up back in my crappy little apartment with ramen noodles and Wi-Fi.
It was logical. In a deeply unhinged way.
So, after breakfast (yes, he watched me chew my porridge like it was the Olympics), I pretended to be the model captive. Smiled politely. Nodded at Darius. Even let Lucian adjust the cloak draped over my shoulders like I was his doll.
Inside, I was plotting.
When evening came and he got called to a council meeting about border patrols, I knew it was my chance.
I stole bread from the kitchen, shoved it in my cloak pocket, and snuck out a side gate. Easy, right?Except… Dravenmoor doesn’t do easy.
Every hallway has guards. Every guard has wolves. And every wolf has eyes sharper than my mother when she found my high school report card.
Still, somehow, I made it past the outer walls. Adrenaline probably makes you invisible. That or I was channeling my inner ninja.
The forest stretched before me—dark, tangled, buzzing with insect life. Shadows clawed between the trees. The moonlight barely touched the ground.
And like an idiot, I stepped inside—the forest.
At first, it was almost peaceful. Crickets sang. Leaves rustled in the wind. My boots crunched against roots and fallen branches.
“See?” I whispered to myself. “Totally safe. Just trees. Just… endless, ominous trees.”
Then came the sounds.
A branch snapped behind me. Too heavy for a rabbit. Too deliberate for the wind.
I spun. Nothing.
Another sound—low, guttural, like a growl dragged across gravel. My skin prickled.
“Okay, Kiera, this is fine. You wanted to die, remember? This is good. This is progress. Just… not too painful, please?”
Because I may have accepted death as an exit strategy, but I wasn’t exactly volunteering for horrific mauling.
It stepped from the shadows like something straight out of a nightmare.
Massive. Hulking. Black fur bristling like spines. And not one head—three. Three snarling wolfish heads, each with glowing eyes and teeth dripping saliva.
A Cerberus.
Of course. Because apparently the forest wasn’t just “dangerous.” It was a mythological horror convention.
The first head lunged, snapping its jaws so close I felt the air shift. I stumbled backward, heart slamming against my ribs.
“Okay!” I squeaked. “This counts, right? Death by monster? Time to wake up in my bed now! Right? RIGHT?”
Spoiler: I did not wake up.
Instead, the Cerberus circled me, all three heads growling in stereo surround sound. Its claws gouged trenches into the dirt. Its breath reeked of blood and rot.
I grabbed the nearest stick. A pathetic twig, really. “Stay back,” I warned, brandishing it like a lightsaber. “I’m not afraid of you.”
Lies. I was absolutely afraid of it. My stick snapped in half just from me shaking.
The left head lunged again. I screamed and threw the stick. It bounced off its snout like a paper straw hitting a tank.
And then it roared. All three heads, howling into the night, shaking the trees around us.
I clamped my hands over my ears. “Too loud! Too loud! Oh my god, this is the worst idea I’ve ever had—”
The Cerberus charged. I braced for impact, already whispering an apology to my Netflix queue for leaving mid-series.
But then—
A shadow exploded from the trees.
Not a man. Not even just a wolf. Something in-between.
Lucian.
His form blurred, cloak shredding, bones cracking into new shapes. Muscles rippled, fur sprouted, his body stretching taller, broader, darker. Silver eyes glowed through the monstrous silhouette.
And then he roared—one, deafening, alpha roar that split the night. In a literal sense, f—ck I could see the sky split into two!
The Cerberus faltered. Just for a moment. But it was enough.
Lucian slammed into it with the force of a landslide. One head snapped at him, he tore into another. Blood sprayed, hot and metallic in the air. The forest floor shook under their battle.
I stumbled back, heart in my throat, torn between awe and horror.
Because I’d never seen him like this. Not the polished tyrant. Not the cold strategist. But raw, primal power. The kind of strength that made the world itself bow down.
And he was doing it… for me.
The Cerberus shrieked, all three heads snapping, claws tearing at Lucian’s flesh. But he didn’t stop. Didn’t falter. His silver eyes locked onto me even mid-fight, wild and unrelenting.
“You're...,” his voice growled through a throat not fully human, not fully beast. “Mine.”
And then he lunged again, disappearing into a tangle of fur and fangs.
I gasped, frozen, as the forest lit up with the glow of his eyes—blazing silver against the darkness.
And for the first time, I realized something worse than death had happened.
I didn’t want him to lose.