Chapter 3

Arwyn

The door swings open, and instead of the ambush I’d braced for, I’m met with a gust of cool night air brushing across my sweaty, tear-streaked face. It hits me so hard, so fast, oxygen gets trapped in my lungs.

The sky stretches out above me, a nocturnal canvas scattered with stars. For a long time, I’d questioned if I’d ever see it again. The longer I was locked in darkness, the easier it was to convince myself that the world I’d remembered from my past was never real at all. Swallowing thickly, I devour my surroundings, letting the fresh air breathe life back into me. The city lights twinkle in the distance, a reminder that while I withered away inside a prison, the world kept moving, oblivious.

With a shaky breath, I step into the open, the ground beneath me solid. Real .

It feels like stepping into a dream. I scrunch my toes, feeling the sharp gravel punch between my toes. It sends an odd sort of giddiness sparkling through my belly. For the first time in four years, I’m free. A sob catches in my throat, but I swallow it down, too afraid to believe this is real—too afraid that if I blink, it’ll all disappear.

“Holy fucking stars. I'm outside,” I croak. My lips curve up, cracking painfully, but I ignore it.

The realization of my freedom hits me hard. Along with it comes the weight of what I’ve lost and what’s been taken from me. It almost sends me to my aching knees, but the fire burning inside me, fueled by Lunara’s dwindling magic and my own stubborn will, keeps me rooted to the spot.

“I will never let them take me again,” I murmur solemnly, making a promise here and now to myself, to the universe. My fists clench at my sides. Lunara's ether swirls in response, a gentle caress against my skin, affirming my resolve. The feeling is addicting, but it’s nothing compared to the sensation deep inside me, one I’d recognize anywhere and have felt far too rarely.

My unicorn.

She whinnies, bucking and thrashing with desperation, begging to be let out, to protect us.

To take the lead.

Swallowing hard, I shake my head, ignoring her, just like the pain in my body. I can’t. Not yet. Maybe when we’re safe I’ll finally deal with her. Deal with the chasm of betrayal that throbs between us like a third entity, humming, burning, angry.

“Get over it,” I demand, my jaw clenching. I shake my hands, losing the tension racking my muscles, and tune her out. I have to focus. Just because I’m outside, doesn’t make me free.

With a deep, steadying breath, I take my first steps into the unknown, away from the prison that held me captive, towards a future uncertain but wholly my own. The night is silent around me, but inside, I'm a riot of emotions.

The door slams shut behind me, the sound symbolic, as if closing the door to my past.

It's only when I stumble into a back alley, my breath forming misty plumes in the chilly night, that the weight of my situation truly settles on my shoulders. Alone, vulnerable, and hungry, I’m left with nothing but the bare spoils I stole from the people who made it their goal in life to destroy me.

I've never felt more exposed.

Tucked into Yaris’ tote are the smelly alpha's wallet, keys, and cell phone. They’re heavy reminders of the risk I've taken. I realize with a sinking feeling that I have no idea where I am or how to truly escape my captors in a way that keeps me gone for good. My mind races between the desperate need for help and the fear of what comes next.

What am I supposed to do now? I need a plan.

Wandering aimlessly in the night will get me nowhere good. And depending on what realm I’m in, I may not even make it to morning.

The objects I stole burn through the bag and into my flesh, pulsing with a taunt I don’t have the energy to decipher. The thought of taking the alpha's car briefly flits through my mind—a fleeting hope extinguished by the harsh reality that I never even learned to drive before I was taken. Even if I had, the alpha would surely contact the Wardens once he finally wakes up. He’d report his car and belongings stolen, and I’d be right back where I started, more than likely in a world of pain.

Or worse.

“No!” I choke out. “I can’t do it.” I won’t survive. I know it with every fiber of my being.

With a panicked motion, I toss the keys into a nearby dumpster, their clatter echoing in the stillness. Next, I palm his phone. It’s hot in my hand, and I consider throwing it away also, but the longer I stare at it, the higher my hope grows. I could call my parents. I could ask them to pick me up. I could beg them to save me.

I just don’t know if they would.

If they’re still alive to even answer.

My throat squeezes as a sharp pain lances through me. I can’t bring myself to call, not yet, but I can’t get rid of my only lifeline either. For all I know, the phone might not even work if I’m in one of the realms that are against technology. The alpha could have traveled here from far, far away. He could have hopped in a portal for a night of debauchery and abuse.

The thought makes me want to snap the phone in two while I pretend it’s his slimy dick. However, I’m not stupid. In the off chance that all the stars align, or I need help in an emergency, it’ll be my last lifeline. Just to be safe, I quickly power the phone off, praying with everything I am that it’s untraceable like this.

A noise from the end of the alley cuts through my panic, reminding me of the danger that freedom brings. Inside the prison was a never ending cycle of torment, but at least there, I knew what haunted me. Now, I’ll be faced with an entire sphere of monsters.

My heart races, fear pushing me to run and find safety. I look up for Lunara's magic. It’s still with me, flickering faintly. I tuck my lips between my teeth to keep them from chattering and follow the light's direction, away from the sound and towards the unknown. We spill out of the alley and into a street buzzing with nightlife. The sudden brightness is such a shock, I blink rapidly, covering my eyes, and stumble backward into a wall.

“Lunara,” I whisper-hiss, my heart hammering violently. “Lunara! What do I do?”

Silence greets me, making my anxiety worsen. My hands fall to my sides, my fingernails digging into the rough concrete behind me. I flick my gaze across the vast city stretching out before me, panic threatening to send me back into the alley, back to the dark cell I’ve begrudgingly grown used to. Everything here, bright lights, crowds, smells, is so different from the shadows I've fled.

But I can’t go back. No matter what happens, I have to get out of here. Far, far away from the Harvester and his men. I have to get home.

Swallowing thickly, I pull my attention away from the city and back to my dark little corner of refuge, searching the sidewalk for any sign of Lunara or her adorable magic. There’s nothing. No one.

I’m alone again.

“Not alone,” the voice of many whispers as a warm gust of wind ghosts across my cheek. I shiver, biting my lip as my eyes blur with tears. “I’m always with you, my Lua. You can do this. You must do this.”

“Stay with me,” I beg quietly, mentally clinging to her ether with invisible fists, refusing to let her leave me. “Don’t go. Not yet.”

“They’ll be waking up now, child. You cannot be here when they do.” Her words send icicles through my already chilled veins. “Go, Arwyn. Go, now!”

A quickly bat a tear from my cheek, pressing harder against the wall in refusal.

“Do you know where I am? Where I should go?” There are a thousand questions I want to ask before she leaves me, but those seem the most important. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask if she knows whether or not my family is safe, alive, but I choke it back. I’m not ready to hear the truth yet.

I wait a beat for her answer, my eyes frantically searching my surroundings for any sign of danger. Across the street, a couple is making out against a parked car. A few paces away is a group of similarly aged people standing outside an unmarked building with low, neon lights. Otherwise, I’m alone. As if the realization has lifted the protective blanket I’ve been huddled under for the last hour, I feel Lunara slip away on a midnight breeze, her absence immediately freezing me down to my marrow.

It takes every ounce of dwindling courage to shove myself away from my quiet corner in the shadows. Only the knowledge that what’s behind me is a thousand times worse than anything in front of me, keeps my feet moving.

I try to blend in, walking with feigned confidence among strangers, despite wanting to shrink away. I discreetly study the people around me, watching them and my surroundings, in hopes of figuring out where I am. I may not be worldly, but I am educated and I know enough about the sphere to figure out where I am by process of elimination. At least, I hope I do.

Otherwise, I’m utterly screwed.

Growing up, I’d only ever known my home, Elyndore—the place where stars felt close enough to touch, where the air shimmered with magic, and eternal light bathed everything in silver. The heavenly realm, where shifters are Goddess blessed, and power reigns supreme. It was a beautiful place to live, but my heart always wanted more. I wanted to travel. To see the universe. To explore the five mortal realms, and become powerful enough to communicate with the Gods in the astral realms.

When I was around ten, I got my wish. My solan was given an advisory position for Elyndore’s Empress, Sereaphira. One of his duties was to travel with the Empress for the annual Grand Nexus, a meeting of the High Council. Every year, it takes place in Mythara, a realm that’s predominantly human, but is broken down into many districts. Some of which are sanctuary cities for shifters, including the location of the Nexus, Iverness.

Unfortunately, though I spent many human summers in Iverness, I was never able to venture outside of its protective boundaries and see more of Mythara. If by some chance, that’s where I am, the likelihood of me experiencing the same safety I did in the past is slim to none.

The further I walk, my arms wrapped tightly around my freezing body, the more worried I become. This city feels nothing like those distant memories of Iverness. It’s darker, colder, and there’s a sense of hard edges everywhere. This place doesn’t feel familiar at all.

The scents are a mixture of humans and shifters amongst a backdrop of wet cement, garbage and cigarette smoke. I force myself to breathe deeply, ignoring the surface smells, and use all my knowledge and skills to pick out what’s beneath them.

The air, while thick and humid, is notably salty, and stale with hints of fish. Sea? Ocean? Some kind of open body of water is close by. Not only that, but various designations are roaming freely. Some alphas and omegas are openly flaunting their thick pheromones like second skins while others are burying theirs under the thick, cloying cover of scent-spray. Human’s mingle with magic here. The chaos assaulting my senses makes me sneeze and my eyes water.

“Where the hell am I?” I murmur, tucking my bag tighter into my belly.

I note a tight circle of women in their best club outfits crying out for a taxi seconds before I clock a few creepy men leering at them for far too long. My throat aches, begging to call out and warn them, but I can’t. I have to stay as invisible as possible. Instead, I bite my tongue and say a silent prayer, hoping everyone stays safe tonight, as I push forward.

I make it a few blocks before a drunk group of guys stumbles out of a bar called The Quill , heading right for me. I duck beneath a metal awning on the sidewalk, hiding behind a large blue box with a symbol of a phone on it.

My heart pounds as the group stumbles by, laughing. The noise reminds me that danger isn’t just in dark corners; it can come wrapped in moments that start out happy. A lesson I learned the hard way.

My body tenses, and I shove myself deeper into the darkened corner, fighting back a whimper of distress. No one else is around. If they find me…

I shake my head. I can’t think like that.

One stumbles over his feet and rumbles a deep laugh that sends uncomfortable shivers skittering across my skin. The feeling is akin to hundreds of death beetles, burrowing under my flesh and leaving behind their acrid residue. He catches himself on the telephone box, sucking in gasping breaths through his laughter.

He’s so close, I could reach out and touch him if I had a death wish. My scraped up knees clatter together so fiercely, I worry my bones might break. I take a deep, silent breath to calm myself before I pass out and am immediately assaulted by the pungent scent of damp earth and worn shoes drenched in the artificial smell of cologne. I barely have time to cover my mouth before gagging.

Moons. Coyote shifters are the worst. Not only in scent, but disposition.

I may not have explored all the realms yet, but before I was taken, I lived a relatively normal life. I was once a teenager, begging to goof off with my friends, dabbling in things too old for my sixteen years. I spent time with college guys. Attended parties I had no business being at. Not only that, but in my time away, I’ve seen far worse things than anyone, human or shifter, should have to see. As a whole, coyote shifters are vile beings who believe themselves to be superior, especially over women.

I bite the inside of my cheek and battle with the disgust roaring through my veins. I know not all coyotes are like the men who used to come into the club where I was forced to dance. They can’t all be as bad as the creatures who would shift their hands, extend their claws, and rake their nails down my bare skin when I’d walk by while drunkenly laughing at my pain.

I know they can’t be all bad, but history has justified my hatred.

“Hurry the hell up, Mick! The concert’s about to start,” his friends call. My stomach drops and I flick my gaze to them, taking in their closeness. They’re a few feet away, sloppily shoving each other, but they don’t seem to see me.

“I can’t. The world is spinning.” Mick groans, inhaling deeply. He freezes, his nostrils flaring. “Wait. What the hell is that?”

A strange sensation vibrates up my chest, my throat, landing heavily on my tongue. I snap my lips closed, keeping the odd sound buried deep. My twisting stomach practically contorts in on itself as an otherworldly awareness slips over me. The kind that only kicks in when a predator is near.

Everything in me is screaming run, run, run, but the inherent part of my biology knows running would be wrong. Running would be dangerous. Running would encourage him to chase, and I know on my basest level, I’ll never win. Part of me wonders if I’ll ever feel safe again. Maybe once I’m home with my family and friends, but not now, and certainly not with a pack of dogs just inches away from my hiding spot.

Mick suddenly shoves to his full height, stretching well over my short frame, and takes another deep breath. Even in the dark, I can see his eyes flutter as he groans. The urge to sniff myself and confirm what I already know in my gut is overwhelming. Can he really smell my diluted, broken omega scent amongst all the other strong odors out here? I shift deeper into my hiding place.

“Let’s go, fucker!” One of his friends roughs out, shooting Mick a sharp glare. “The cab’s here. We’re leaving without you.”

Mick hesitates, his eyes sweeping over my darkened corner. He pauses for a brief moment, and I swear, I’ve been caught. But then he blinks, and continues his search, his gaze shifting to the other side of the street.

“Right now, Mick!” the clearly dominant friend barks. Like magic, Mick’s feet move toward the waiting cab, leaving me and my scent behind as if it were never there.

Once I’m sure their pungent odor and cab are gone for good, I let out a shaky breath. I'm relieved but also a bit more wary of the world around me. The line between friend and foe, safety and danger, feels thin outside of my box. At least there, I knew to trust no one.

A lesson I learned the hard way.

Shaking my head, I shove the thoughts away before they can distract me. It takes a few seconds to convince myself out of my hidey-hole, but I remain under the awning as I take in my surroundings. If I could just find a sign or business name with the location on it, I’d be able to figure out how far I am from home. How far I need to travel to get back.

After a while of people watching, I realize everyone seems to be headed in the direction the taxi disappeared. Most of them are broken into smaller groups. There are more women than men, but they all seem to be vibrating on the same level of excitement. They’re dressed similarly in dark, club-type garb—heels, leather, skin-tight jeans and barely-there tops. I swallow hard, eyeing my meager outfit. No wonder I managed to blend in while wearing nothing but a leather lingerie set and too-big socks.

With a sigh, I slump against a post, letting the cool metal ground me. Judging by the bustling nightlife, it’s safe to assume I’m in a large city, and though I didn’t relish being so close to the coyote's horrid smell, at least it helped me come to a conclusion. The mixture of humans and shifters of all designations can only mean one thing.

Mythara.

More than that, I’m in a sanctuary district where shifters roam freely with humans.

Here, the boundaries between the magical and the mundane blur, creating a space where beings of all origins can coexist openly. This realization brings on a heady mixture of relief and apprehension. Being in a sanctuary city means a higher chance of blending in, but it also means being discovered by one of the Hunters is incredibly likely. For all I know, the Harvester could have far more followers than I ever came into contact with in the prison.

They… he …could be anywhere.

I need to put distance between us and I need to do it fast .

Stealing my spine, I step out from my darkened hideaway, and nearly collide face first with a wall. I screech, jumping back, just as a massive hunk of dangerous metal that reads Harborview Mystic Transit skids to a stop in front of me. The doors clang open, making me jolt.

Holy moons! I was right!

Harborview is a massive seaside, sanctuary district on the southern hemisphere of Mythara. It’s relatively safe and modernized. It’s also on the opposite side of the realm from where I need to be if I have any hope of getting home.

I suck in gasping breaths, my eyes wild with panic and excitement as I look up, meeting the tired gaze of an elderly woman with a kind smile. Her eyes lazily roam my body, taking in my outfit with a low hum. “Heading to the Knightshade concert, I take it?”

My brows furrow. “The what?”

“Knightshade?” she repeats. At my awkward, confused silence, she shakes her head and sighs. “Where to, sugar?”

A portal to take me home.

And the only portal to Elyndore I’m aware of is where the Grand Nexus is held. Luckily for me, I just happen to know most of the staff running the bordered district by name. Stars, this might just work!

With a wobbly smile, I step forward and wrap my trembling fingers around the door handle.

“As close to Iverness as you can get me, please.”

I’m finally going home.

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