Chapter 73: The Smoke and the Sting

Chapter 73: The Smoke and the Sting
\- SELENE
Rowan brought his horse over to me. It was a big, dark stallion that looked like it could run through a stone wall.
"Can you ride?" he asked, his voice softening.
"I’ve spent four years pretending to be a delicate flower, Rowan," I said, taking the reins from him. "I haven't forgotten how to sit on a horse."
"Good." He boosted me up, his hands lingering on my waist for a second longer than necessary. "Because we’re going to be pushing them hard."
"Rowan?" I looked down at him as he swung into his own saddle.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for coming back for me. I know I told you to wait for the message, but... I’m glad you didn't."
He gave me a small, crooked smile—the one that actually reached his eyes. "I was never very good at following orders. Especially yours."
"Bastard," I whispered, but I was smiling too.
"Ready?" Galen called out, already heading down the narrow, rocky trail that led away from the ridge.
"Ready," I said.
We kicked the horses into a trot, the sound of hooves on stone the only thing breaking the silence of the woods. Behind us, the Silver Ridge was disappearing into the morning mist. Ahead of us, the valley was wide and dark and full of things I didn't know yet.
I didn't have to ask Rowan why we weren't running on four paws. No one was shifting tonight. We were too exhausted to play werewolf; we needed to save every scrap of strength just to stay upright in the stirrups.
As we descended into the trees, I felt the last bit of the manor's weight lift off my chest. I looked at Rowan, riding beside me, his eyes focused on the trail ahead. I looked at the shredded silk of my sleeves and the dirt under my fingernails.
I was a mess and exhausted. I was probably a wanted woman in three different pack lands.
And I felt fucking fantastic.
The trail narrowed, forcing us into a single file. The smell of pine needles and damp earth was overwhelming. Every muscle in my body ached, but it was a good ache. It was the ache of someone who was finally moving forward instead of just standing still.
"Rowan," I called out softly.
"What is it?"
"If we make it across the creek... where are we actually going?"
"Far," he said, not looking back. "There’s a place in the Neutral Zone. A contact of Galen’s. They don't care about Alphas or treaties there. They just care if you can hold your own."
"I think I can manage that," I said.
"I know you can."
We rode in silence for a while, the only sound the rhythmic breathing of the horses and the distant rush of water. The gray light was getting brighter, turning the world into shades of blue and silver. It was beautiful, in a harsh, unforgiving way.
I looked back one last time at the peaks. Somewhere up there, Kaelen was probably standing in our empty bedroom, holding that broken silver necklace and realizing he’d been played. He’d think he could hunt us down. He’d think he could bring me back.
But he didn't realize that the Selene who lived in that house died the second I stepped into that tunnel.
The woman riding this horse was someone else entirely.
"Hey, Selene!" Galen yelled from the front, his voice echoing through the trees. "Try to keep up! The creek is just ahead, and I don't feel like fishing you out of the rapids!"
"Eat shit, Galen!" I yelled back, a laugh bubbling up in my throat.
I kicked my horse into a gallop, the wind whipping my hair across my face, stinging my eyes. I leaned forward, low against the horse's neck, and let the speed take me.
We hit the edge of the creek just as the first sliver of sun broke over the horizon. The water was white and churning, fueled by the spring melt. We plunged in, the cold water splashing against my boots, the horses straining against the current.
We reached the other side, dripping and shivering, but alive.
"We're across," Rowan said, pulling his horse up beside mine.
I looked at the water, then at the path ahead. The Silver Ridge was gone.
"Yeah," I said, wiping a splash of water from my lip. "We're across."
The "secret camp" was really just a collection of lopsided shacks and canvas tents tucked into a limestone overhang. It smelled like wet dogs, pine pitch, and the kind of cheap tobacco that sticks to the back of our throat. But after three days of running through freezing ravines and sleeping on moss, it felt like a five-star resort.
I sat on a rotting log near the small, sunken fire pit, trying to get the feeling back into my toes. My boots were ruined—the leather was cracked and caked in gray silt from the creek.
"Here," Rowan said, dropping a tin cup of something steaming into my lap. "Drink it. It tastes like battery acid, but it’ll stop the shaking."
I wrapped my hands around the warm metal, letting the heat seep into my palms. I took a sip and nearly choked. "Jeez, Rowan. What is this? Peppermint and jet fuel?"
He sat down next to me, his shoulder heavy and solid against mine. He looked exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes like bruises. "It’s Galen’s special blend. I think there’s some actual tea in there somewhere, buried under the moonshine."
"God bless Galen," I muttered, taking another cautious sip.
Across the fire, Liora was trying to get Vireya to eat a bowl of gray stew. It wasn't going well. Vireya was huddled in a pile of wool blankets, her face pale and her eyes darting toward every shadow that moved beyond the firelight.
"I can't eat this," Vireya whispered, her voice cracking. "It smells... oily."
"Eat it or starve, Princess," Liora snapped. She looked like she was at the end of her rope. "I’m not your lady-in-waiting anymore. I’m the person who dragged your ass through a tunnel while you were busy crying about your manicure."
"I wasn't crying about my—"
"Eat the damn stew," I called out, not looking up from my cup. "Unless you want to be too weak to run when the scouts show up. Because they will show up."
Vireya flinched and took a tiny, miserable spoonful.
The silence settled in after that. It wasn't the peaceful silence of the woods; it was the silence of people waiting for a heart attack. Every snap of a dry branch made me jump. Every hoot of an owl felt like a signal.
Galen emerged from the darkness of the treeline, his breath hitching in the cold air. He didn't sit down. He walked straight to Rowan with grim expression.
"The contact came through," Galen said, his voice low.
Rowan stood up immediately, his posture shifting into something sharp and dangerous. "And?"
"Kaelen’s moved," Galen said. "He didn't waste time. He’s organized the first tracking party. He’s not sending the regular pack guards, either. He’s pulled the 'Ravens'—his personal headhunters. They’ve already crossed the Southern Pass."
I felt a cold spike of dread hit my stomach. The Ravens weren't trackers; they were killers. Kaelen used them for the jobs he didn't want the rest of the pack to see.
"How many?" Rowan asked.
"Six, maybe eight. Led by Varick," Galen replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "They’re moving light and fast. No supply wagons, no heavy gear. They’re hunting, not patrolling."
"Fuck," I whispered, the word slipping out before I could stop it.
Rowan looked down at me, his eyes hard. "He’s desperate. He knows the treaty is garbage if Vireya isn't in that bed when the Northern Alphas come back for the final ratification."
"He's not just desperate," I said, standing up and tossing the rest of the tea into the dirt. "He’s pissed. I didn't just leave, Rowan. I made him look like a goddamn amateur in front of his own men. He’s not coming for Vireya because of a treaty. He’s coming for me because his ego won't let him breathe until I’m back in that silver collar."
"He’s not putting that thing back on you," Rowan growled.
"He’s going to try," I said. I looked at Galen. "How far behind are they?"
"Six hours, maybe eight," Galen said. "They’re good, but they’re tracking a group with a horse and a sick girl. We’re leaving a trail a blind man could follow."
"Then we stop leaving a trail," I said.
"We can't move Vireya any faster," Liora argued, standing up. "She’s barely holding on as it is."
"Then we split up," I said.
Rowan shook his head immediately. "No. No way. We stay together."
"Rowan, listen to me," I said, stepping into his space and grabbing the front of his jacket. "He wants me. Varick knows that. If we split, Galen can take Vireya and Liora toward the Neutral City. It’s crowded there, easy to disappear. You and I... we lead the Ravens toward the Iron Spires. It’s all rock and scree up there. No tracks."
"It's a death trap," Rowan said.
"It's a gamble," I corrected. "But it's the only one we've got. If they catch all of us together, they just kill you and take the rest of us back. If we split, at least Vireya gets to the High Council. She’s the only one who can testify about the 'Peace Accord' being a front for a silver grab."
Vireya looked up from her blankets, her eyes wide. "You’d... you’d risk yourself for that?"
"I'm risking myself to ruin Kaelen's life," I said, looking her dead in the eye. "Don't get it twisted, Princess. I still don't like you."
Galen looked at Rowan. "She’s right, man. It sucks, but it’s the only way to peel them off. Varick won't follow a sick girl if he thinks he’s got a shot at the 'traitor' Luna."
Rowan stayed silent for a long time, his jaw working. I could see the battle behind his eyes—the instinct to protect me fighting the logic of the soldier. Finally, he let out a jagged breath and looked at me.
"If we do this," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "we don't stop. Not for anything."
"I haven't stopped since I hit that tunnel, Rowan," I said. "I'm not starting now."
"Fine," Rowan said, turning to Galen. "Take the horses. Take the girl and Liora. Head for the 'Rusty Anchor' in the city. If we aren't there in three days, tell the High Council everything. Give them the maps Selene memorized."
"Rowan—" Galen started.
"Just do it, Galen," Rowan snapped.