by Kayla Wolf
Finally, it felt like he could breathe again. Samuel breathed the tension out of his body, his breath visible in the cold air inside the mountain, then set a brisk pace down the corridor he'd stepped into. It was one he knew well—it was long and winding and it spiraled down through the rock at an alarming angle in several places. What he liked about it was that it came out into a small crevasse somewhere deep in the mountains that had a view of the stars. Hopefully, the night was still clear, and he could spend a little bit of time by himself, gazing up into the sky and calming himself back down. People just weren't his strong suit. And big crowds even less. How did Alexander handle it? He was always meeting with people, talking to them, running committees and councils and who knew what. Samuel could handle one-on-one conversations, barely—and even then he needed a lot of downtime to recharge.
Not that many people knew that about him, of course. Samuel was aware of his reputation in the valley—he was the funny one, the jokester of the family, the guy to go for if you needed a witty comment or a bit of banter. Most people would be surprised if they knew how draining he found it to socialize. Maybe that was why he hadn't managed to find a mate yet, he thought to himself as he moved through the passageway. Maybe you needed to actually like socializing with people to fall in love. Would he be alone for the rest of his life? Maybe Lisa could find him someone, he thought wryly. That was her profession, in the human world—finding people relationships. She'd explained it to him once. It sounded fantastic. How did humans ever choose mates, with such a huge range of people to choose from? It was almost as stressful as his own extremely limited prospects.
Lost in thought, Samuel found himself at the crevasse much more quickly than he'd realized. He smiled a little as he peered up through the rock formation—thankfully, the clouds hadn't covered the stars yet, and there was a beautiful view. All he had to do was climb out into the base of the crevasse, find the rock he liked to sit on, lie back and dream. But all of those plans fell by the wayside as Samuel stared down at his usual rock, completely stunned.
Here before him, in a place he'd never told a living soul about, lay a completely unfamiliar woman. Was he dreaming? How had she gotten here? He knelt awkwardly on the uneven ground, trying to get a better look at her face—she had wild black hair that was obscuring most of it, and he reached out to gently push it out of the way. The face that was revealed was very lovely, but not at all familiar to him. This was a complete stranger. Fast asleep, it seemed—or out cold? He glanced over her body and saw the awkward angle one of her legs seemed to be at. Ah. Had she fallen from the crevasse above? Surely not. She'd had to have been out in the middle of nowhere to find it.
And as he gazed down at her, completely at a loss for what to do next, the woman's eyes slid drowsily open and stared at him in shock.
Chapter 2 – Jessica
Jessica ran. She’d always been a good runner. As long as she could remember, she was the fastest in town—she won every single race at school, her bedroom wall a sea of blue ribbons. Nobody could match her, no matter how hard they tried. A few of the boys gave her a run for her money in high school. They would train every night on the old school oval, giving her sidelong glances as she glided past and lowering their voices as though keeping their silly little training plans to themselves would give them some kind of competitive edge over her. No way. Every single race, she demolished them.
But high school had been a long time ago. Keeping those young men in check was no longer as easy as humiliating them in a running race. Because one of those young men was Thomas Rayne, and the way he’d looked at her even back then had made her skin crawl. And now… well, now he was the most powerful man in the village. Jessica still went running most nights, but something had changed about it. It had used to make her feel so free, so powerful like she could go anywhere and do anything. But since Thomas had become their leader, it didn’t feel that way anymore. She felt like a fish in a fishbowl, just swimming in useless little circles. Wherever she ran in town, she never left his territory. Never quite managed to shake that feeling of his eyes creeping all over her skin.
“Good news, Jess,” her father had said abruptly, in that way he had of breaking a long silence as though they were already halfway through a conversation. Jessica had looked up from her dinner with apprehension, as she usually did when her father barked like that. She could feel her mother’s eyes on her, too.
“What’s that, Dad?”
“Rayne. Wants to see you tomorrow.”
“Thomas?” A flash of that old feeling, running down her spine. It must have shown on her face because she felt her sister Angela kick her under the table.
“A date,” her mother said, voice a little too bright. “How lovely. I remember our first date, Jack.”
“Yes. Wear something nice.”
“I was meant to go down to Mrs. Henderson’s place to finish painting her—”
“That can wait. You know what this means?”
Jessica tensed. A part of her had been hoping that this was just a regular, normal date. Like the dates that people went on on the TV shows she sometimes watched with Angela. Something casual and friendly—a meal together, a conversation. Seeing whether two people were interested in one another. But that wasn’t how things were done here. Not in Fallhurst, where the people all had a little more in common than just living in the same small town. Not in Fallhurst, a town nobody ever visited—and nobody ever left.
Angela kicked her again. Her little sister was perceptive—knew exactly when their father was on the verge of one of his fits of temper. And sure enough, when Jessica looked into his eyes, she could see threads of silver beginning to branch across his irises.
“I know, dad,” she said quickly, trying to summon a smile. “I know what it means.”
“An honor,” Jack almost growled. “For our family. There’s no better prospect. If he asks, you’ll say yes, and you’ll smile.”
She had worn a dress her mother had made for her years ago—a simple, pretty thing that she rarely wore. Her days weren’t especially dress-friendly. The time she had to herself, she mostly spent running. The rest of the time, she was her father’s apprentice. He was the town’s handyman—builder, fixer, all-purpose man with a toolbox and the knowledge of how to use it—so her job mostly meant following him around as he worked, passing him tools, doing the thankless, back-breaking parts of the job. Hauling materials, cleaning up debris. Not the kind of work that you’d wear a dress for.
Thomas had taken her out to the outskirts of town, a favorite spot of hers where the flat land on which the town was built began to give way to the mountains that loomed above it. It was a favorite picnic spot for a lot of people in the town, but not many of them were willing to brave the midwinter snow. It was beautiful out here, even though she shivered in the cold, but she didn’t trust the man she was with, the way he kept putting a hand on her lower back as though to steady her as they walked through the trees together. Something so smug and knowing in his face.
“Aren’t you going to congratulate me?” he asked her finally after they’d thoroughly exhausted topics of small-talk like how long it had been since high school and what beautiful weather they’d been having this winter.
“Congratulate you?”
“On my position. On being Alpha. Bet you didn’t think that boy in your Math class you always refused to speak to would be your Alpha one day, did you?”
“I suppose not.” She remembered what her father had said and tried to smile. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you. And congratulations to you, too.”
“What for?”
“On your new position. As the Alpha’s mate.”
There it was. Jessica’s stomach sank into her toes as she tried to smile, tried to think of something to say. She’d known this was going to happen. Thomas must have spoken to her parents the day before, gotten their blessing—that was tradition, and from what she knew about Thomas, he was a traditional kind of guy. Her bles
sing wasn’t required. It was an honor to be the Alpha’s mate—and a position of considerable influence. The villagers would listen to her, seek out her opinion on things, fawn over her if they wanted influence with the Alpha. She’d witnessed it first hand with her mother, watching the woman scheme and plot to get in the good books of the most popular woman in town, the previous Alpha’s wife. Socializing was a competitive sport in Fallhurst—and the Alpha’s mate was the most powerful player.
She didn’t want it. She didn’t want any of it. She smiled and nodded numbly as Thomas talked her through the arrangements—they’d be married in a few weeks. A wedding was a great way to consolidate his new position. An excellent networking event, an opportunity to get everyone in the village together to talk about the pack and their future under his leadership. She’d agreed with everything he’d said, smiled and nodded and kissed him goodbye when he dropped her off at home, informed her parents of the date that had been scheduled for the wedding, then walked into her room and started packing a bag.
It was like she was in a dream. Not a single thought crossed her mind—it was like the flat, icy surface of the frozen pond they’d sat by as Thomas explained her future to her. Smooth, level, and uninterrupted. She dug out her old backpack, filled it with her most durable clothes and some essential toiletries. She dressed in her favorite set of running clothes and hung her warmest winter jacket on the door handle. She laced up her running shoes. Then she lay in bed fully clothed, her mind still and quiet as the night sky, and gazed at the clock until it read 3:30am.
Then she got up, slid her jacket over her shoulders, shrugged her backpack onto her back, and moved silently out onto the landing. It was easy to move across the floorboards—she’d lived in this house all her life, she knew exactly which sections of the floor squeaked and which didn’t. She knew to skip the second and fourth stair on the way down to the kitchen. On the table was a bowl of fruit—quickly, she unzipped her bag and stashed as many apples as would fit around her clothing. Then, silent as the night air itself, she moved out onto the porch and into the freezing night air.
Her feet would crunch on the gravel driveway—thankfully, there was a thick coat of new snow covering it, which deadened the sounds of her footsteps. When Jessica reached the road, she hesitated for just a moment before stepping out, turning right… and launching herself into a run.
Usually, her favored running track would take her towards the mountains, then arch off and circle the village instead, bringing her home right through the town square. This time, though, it was different. The night was cold and still, and every breath she took cut savagely at her lungs. The stars were cold, distant points in the black sky above her. When she reached the outskirts of the village, where she usually made a turn, she instead took a deep breath—and continued on, straight into the trees.
It wasn’t long before the village had vanished behind her. She’d never come out this far—even in her young days, playing and exploring with her little sister, they’d never dared come this far. They always stayed within pack territory. It wasn’t just about safety—it was about belonging. You belonged in Fallhurst—the land there belonged to them, belonged to their blood. As she ran, she could feel the confusion like a palpable presence inside her body. This wasn’t the right way… this was the wrong place to be, the wrong kind of ground for her feet to fall on, the wrong air to be breathing. She was from Fallhurst, and every step was taking her further and further away from it.
But Fallhurst was where Thomas was. Thomas Rayne, with his hard, creeping eyes. Thomas Rayne, telling her what her life would be. Thomas Rayne, the embodiment of that shuddering feeling that someone was watching you in a room you thought was empty. Every step she took was taking her further away from him, and so she kept running, long into the night, following old trails she hadn’t even known were here as the sky steadily lightened, and the sun crept over the horizon. She ran until she was exhausted and then she kept running, a strange, remote feeling in the back of her mind as she observed her aching muscles and the dizzy feeling in her head—would her body actually collapse mid-stride? How much longer could she keep this up?
By the time her pace finally slowed, she had climbed so far into the mountains that she had no idea which direction was home. Breathing harder than she’d ever done in her life, she dropped into the snow, body drenched in sweat despite the cold weather, and dug into her bag for the apples she’d taken from the kitchen table so long ago. Then she stared around her, feeling like she was waking from some kind of fugue state as she did so. She was miles from home. The mountains around her had grown rocky and inhospitable, jagged and unwelcoming—she could tell that if she climbed much further, she’d get to a point where she couldn’t go any further without climbing equipment. The trees were uneven and stumpy up here, and there was a savage wind blowing, whipping the snow into her face.
She supposed she’d have to hunt, once the apples were finished. That was fine. She was a decent hunter. Her mother had taught her as a young girl—taken her and her sister out and showed them how to find tracks, how to move silently, how to stay upwind of your quarry so your scent wouldn’t come to them on the breeze. It had been a long time, but she’d figure it out. She’d be rusty, but it would come back to her in time. It was instinctive. Part of her blood. Like Fallhurst was part of your blood?
But before she could follow that line of enquiry, she felt a strange shifting in the fresh snow beneath her. She tried to lunge to her feet, panicking—but the motion only served to hasten what was happening. Choking on a scream, Jessica felt the snow give way, plunging her into a crevasse that had been only barely covered by the fresh snow—she snatched wildly at the edges, but caught only snow as she fell, sickeningly far—and felt a horrifying crunch and a dizzying wave of pain as she hit the ground feet-first.
Jessica tried to stagger upright, but something was wrong—something was terribly wrong, one of her legs wouldn’t obey her commands, and another wave of sickening pain rose up, almost consuming her completely with panic. She couldn’t see in the gloom—could hardly move, in fact, it felt like she was hemmed in on all sides by rock. Whimpering softly, she dropped to her hands and knees, scraping them on the rock beneath her—then some combination of pain, exhaustion from her extended run, and shock rose up to claim her consciousness.
She had no idea how long she was out. One minute, it was nothing but darkness—the next, some small sound disturbed her, pulled her out of oblivion just far enough that she was confused about where she could be. There was a person here. An unfamiliar person. Not someone from Fallhurst, not her family, not her pack. A stranger. She took a deep breath through her nose, instinctive, and felt a grim certainty solidify in her chest.
“Who are you?” she demanded softly, her voice croaking a little.
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” the man replied. She narrowed her eyes at him—then scanned her surroundings, the memory beginning to return to her. She’d been in the mountains somewhere, high up… the snow had given way… she’d fallen down a crevasse, landed hard on her leg… oh, no. Dull pain was trying to make itself known, and she sat up, an involuntary gasp ripping itself out of her throat as the movement jarred her right leg and sent pain shooting through her body.
“Woah,” the man said, dropping into a crouch beside her. She could hardly see him in the gloom—the only light in the crevasse was coming from high above them. Jessica looked up, eyes narrowed—and was shocked to see the gibbous moon in the small portion of sky visible through the top of the crevasse. Had she really been unconscious all day?
“Where am I?” she demanded. “How long have I been asleep?”
“I don’t know. I just found you,” the man explained. His eyes had a strange sheen to them—an unfamiliar color. Everyone she’d ever met had gray eyes—or silver ones, depending on the moon. His were… gold? How curious. She stared at his face in the moonlight, the pain in her leg not quite distracting her from this fascinating stranger’s fac
e. “You’re hurt. Let me get help.”
“No,” she snapped, quickly. “Don’t need help. It’ll heal.” She hated being injured. It was a sign of weakness. But it wasn’t as though she could pretend the leg wasn’t broken—there it lay, badly twisted on the rock. She wasn’t looking forward to yanking the broken pieces back into place—but she didn’t want to end up with a twisted leg.
“Then let me take you somewhere you can rest—”
“No,” she snarled, putting as much force into her voice as she could—and sure enough, he recoiled a little. Good. She felt like a trapped animal down here, but at least she still had some clout. But the man hadn’t retreated—he was still there, a look of caution in his eyes, but nevertheless there.
“At least let me bring you a splint and some bandages.”
“Fine.” She hesitated, not sure how much weakness to show. “Thank you.”
“And some food? Are you hungry?”
Her stomach growled at the very thought of food, and she nodded rapidly. “Meat, if you have it.”
He nodded, rising to his feet. Graceful, for such a big man. She wondered if he could fight. Her father was a boxer—he was a big man, too, but as light on his feet as you could imagine. Perhaps this man had similar training. She wondered if he could take her father in a fight. Probably not. Not many people could take Jack. He’d been a contender for Alpha in his younger days.
“I’ll be back soon, I promise.” The man turned to leave, then hesitated, turning back. “I don’t know your name.”