Chapter 2

Arwyn

The winding back halls of the massive nightclub are just as dark as my cell. Just as dingy, and filled with the overwhelming scent of far too many shifters. Too many humans. My nose wrinkles, and my eyes water as the potent combination assaults my senses. I pick up on a rather pungent bear seconds before I’m forced to skid to a stop to prevent tripping over his massive form.

My mouth drops open in shock as the scene around me slowly comes into focus. Bodies of guards litter the ground, slumped and prone, their faces blank as if held in some sort of stasis. I hesitantly lift my socked foot, tapping the giant alpha in his ribs. He slides sideways down the wall, landing in a pile of bear on the floor. A metallic clink echoes his landing.

Swallowing hard, I shift around him, my gaze flicking between the arrow-shaped stars and the ground before settling on the man. His chest is rising and falling slowly, his lids fluttering as if in a deep sleep. I kick his ribs again, this time harder, and jump back, holding my breath as I wait for impact.

Except it never comes.

Nothing happens.

I don’t waste a second, springing into action. My body’s tense as I drop to my knees, patting around in the darkness for the fallen object, the distinct sound way too familiar to ignore.

“Hurry.” The demand is barely more than a whisper, but I shake my head.

“I can’t,” I breathe, my heart in my throat. “Not yet.”

”Yesssss…” it hisses as sparks dance along my skin like mildly painful electrical shocks. I can feel Lunara’s urgency. The way she’s pulling me, begging me to run. But when my fingers wrap around the familiar metal, I know I can’t leave.

I shove to my feet, my eyes burning with tears as I stare at the heavy ring of keys. Stars above, there are so many.

Keys that held me for years. Keys that imprisoned me. Keys that locked me away from the world, keeping me from my family, my life, the other half of my being.

Keys that are locking away others, just like me.

”I can’t leave them,” I whisper to the arrows, my head shaking frantically. “I have to let them go.” Because if I know anything about The Harvester, it’s that he’s greed personified. He would never be happy with just me. He wants more. Always more .

I’ve seen many magical creatures over the years, though I’ve never been allowed to communicate with them. Omegas with vacant eyes and bruised flesh. Betas, broken and begging for the sweet release only death can offer. Humans offered up as meals to strengthen dying shifters. Lowly beings, shackled and starved. Powerful breeds, stripped of their powers, forced to a life of servitude.

I’ve seen it all and worse. So much worse.

I’m not alone in this Hell and to leave them behind is a stain that would weigh on my soul far longer than I can truly fathom.

The stars dart to my hands, dancing around them frantically as icy fingers glide across my cheek.

“ You must .”

I choke back a sob, clenching the keys harder. “No.”

Suddenly, Lunara’s ether disappears, blanketing me in pure darkness. The music that’s been a distant thumping from the club goes silent. The air conditioner cuts off. Everything goes still until the only sound around me is the rhythmic breaths of sleeping monsters.

And then, I feel the goddess once more. Her presence is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, and I recognize it as though it’s an innate part of me.

“When the time is right, and our forces are strong, we will return, child.” Her words are stronger now, infused with power and promise, making me tremble. “Release the keys and run. We only have moments.”

She’d said she was weak, and I realize now what she truly meant. She had to drain the energy from the building just to communicate with me, focusing every ounce of her thready magic on her words.

Everything turns back on. Cold air slices over my skin, startling me.

The stars reappear, glowing brightly in their arrow formation, begging me to listen this time. I choke out another sob and drop the keys, my heart breaking as they clatter to the freezing concrete. My tear-filled eyes scan the hallway, committing the path to memory.

“I promise I’ll come back for you,” I vow to the quiet darkness before finally giving in to the demanding ether ushering me toward freedom.

The further we travel, the more I realize my prison for the last four years might have been exactly that. Cinder Block walls, winding halls, and black-framed cages built into crumbling stone. The chills that race across my spine have nothing to do with the freezing air, and everything to do with my newest revelation.

“I’ve been in a prison, haven’t I?” I gasp, my lungs burning from exertion. It feels like we traveled miles in minutes, a far longer distance than I’ve been allowed to move in years.

Some of the stars dance out of formation, gliding across my cheek in a touch that’s meant to be reassuring, but all it does is make my stomach drop.

“By the moon’s shadows.” I whimper, wiping at my damp eyes.

It’s one thing to feel as though you’ve been locked away in a prison of sorts: emotional, physical, metaphorical. Yet seeing the thick walls that have contained me with my own eyes and realizing I wasn’t far from the truth, is painful, to say the least.

With every floor we travel, the anxiety intensifies. Creatures sleep, shackled in their cells, and I’m forced to pass them by silently, again and again. I commit every nicked piece of skin, marred jaw, and sickly body I see to memory. It may kill me to return here someday, when I have my powers back and an army at my side, but by Pythius, I will. I’ll do whatever it takes to save them all.

Chaos ensues the further we travel. Not physically, but mentally. It’s the kind of insanity that seizes control of your brain, feeding you blurry thoughts and images rapidly, distorting everything until you’re lost in your own mind. The chaos dances with the fear racketing my guts, the sadness battering my soul. It sings joyous hymns from my home realm, thanking every Goddess and divine being for finally freeing me from my hell. It draws icy claws down my spine, warning me that we’re not safe yet—we’re far from free. And with every static breath that wheezes from my aching lungs, the chaos only festers, becoming a living, breathing thing.

It’s not until I finally run into someone familiar that my frenzied brain settles enough to offer me a coherent thought. I slide to a halt, my breaths sawing in and out, making talking difficult. I turn frantic eyes to the stars, pleading for just one minute, hoping they understand how important this is.

My teeth chatter through his name. “It’s G-Giles.”

The stars reform in the rough shape of a head that cocks in question, their slow bobbing in the air never ceasing. If it were any other time or place, I might giggle at how adorable they are. Instead, I turn to Giles, a particularly awful employee of the Harvester, and swallow against invisible rocks. He calls himself a Healweaver, or as the human’s would refer to them, a doctor. But he’s unlike any medical professional I’ve ever encountered before. My body tenses as I take him in, remembering all the horrid things he’s done to me over the years.

Giles is slumped in a chair in some sort of makeshift medical office. The door’s wide open, granting me a view of his surroundings, letting me know he’s alone. I hesitantly step forward, ignoring Lunara’s ether as it frantically shakes its fake head.

“I have to,” I whisper, shooting them a look. “I can’t go outside without some kind of protection, and he’s the one who made me take the scent suppressants.” I jerk my chin at Giles as I work my way deeper into the room, taking in the many shelves of pill bottles, syringes, and basic medical supplies. A full-body shudder works through me at the thought of Creepy Giles performing any type of surgery on anyone.

I don’t think he’s qualified.

I scan the mess of bottles, unsure of what I’m actually looking for. It’s not like I’ve gotten a peek at what Giles or the Harvester’s men forced down my throat. I only know it made me dizzy and nauseous—something that’s gotten worse the longer I’ve been on them. With each name I read, I only grow more confused, until frustrated tears well in my eyes. Giles chooses that exact moment to shift, making his leather chair creak. I jump, slapping a hand over my mouth to stifle a sob.

I watch him for a long moment, expecting him to fly into one of his rage blackouts, or pull one of his favorite moves and backhand me into submission. Instead, he burrows his head deeper into his stacked arms and sighs contentedly in his sleep like a small child. I cringe at the visual and wipe away a rogue tear.

Just then, the stars seem to come to some sort of decision, splitting in half and separating forces. My mouth drops open in shock as one half remains at the door, keeping guard, and the other flies to the shelves, weaving themselves around countless boxes and bottles. I wait with bated breath, feeling the internal countdown pulse through me with every second that passes.

I don’t have to wait long. A small white box is picked up, suspended in the air by glowing stars, and floated directly into my hands. I choke back another wave of emotion, reading the name, Scentcloak Compound Extra Strength. I may hate how they make me feel, how they alter my natural perfume, but it beats being caught or attracting unwanted attention. My eyes scan the box, and I come up short when I notice the dosage.

“It’s only a week’s worth,” I murmur, biting my lip. Stumbling toward the shelf, I say a silent prayer that there are more boxes. I’ll need as many as I can get. My shoulders slump in relief as I scoop the rest of the visible stock into my arms. Five boxes. Five weeks. It’s not much, but it’ll have to do.

I shuffle the pills in my arms, tucking them protectively against my chest. The stars dance and blink rapidly, drawing my attention to a small cloth bag tucked in a cubby of sorts. I race forward, snatching it from the shelf. A pungent odor wafts toward me, catching in my lungs. It takes me a moment to place it, but when I do, my stomach rolls. Yaris . The bag belongs to Yaris. She’s one of the tendermages, or nurses, that helps Giles. I used to feel bad for her, assuming she was a captive like me, but that all changed when she showed me her particular brand of cruelty. A shiver works across my spine, the feeling of phantom whip strokes burning my flesh.

Fuck Yaris.

I grit my teeth and rifle through her bag’s contents without remorse. A plastic wrapped sandwich, a bottle of water, a glossy looking apple and two packaged chocolates.

“Lunch,” I breathe, giddiness tickling through my veins. My stomach growls angrily at the thought of food as I drop the pills and the alpha’s stolen belongings into the tote. I secure it over my shoulder, revelling in the heavy weight of my spoils.

Not wanting to waste any more time, I rush through the door, following the arrows to freedom.

“Thank you, Lunara,” I whisper, hoping she understands the impact of the delay. She doesn’t respond, but a warmth fills my chest that feels like her. Like home.

I follow the stars, noticing how they grow dimmer with every minute that passes. Worry flickers through me. I open my mouth to plead for more time, more help, more companionship, but before I can get anything out, I trip over something in the dark hallway and crash into the unforgiving cement floor. A pained gasp tumbles from my dry mouth and I wince, praying no one discovers me. My eyes fly around, frantically searching for the cause of my fall, but there’s nothing, no one.

Sucking in a sharp, wheezing breath, I scoop up my fallen bag and sling it over my chest this time. I can’t risk losing it. Using the wall, I climb to my scuffed up feet on shaking legs and dust myself off. I don’t wait to see if anyone heard me before giving the stars a jerky nod and taking off again.

It’s not long before we reach a thick metal door at the end of a hallway that’s more brightly lit than the rest of the building. The higher we climbed, from what I can only assume was underground, the less guards we saw. I didn’t think anything of it, assuming they’d all been on the lower levels where the club and cages are.

But what if I’m wrong?

What if they aren’t sleeping anymore?

What if they know I’ve run?

I slide to a stop a few feet from the door as I’m suddenly hit with a sharp burst of pure terror. The chaos from earlier returns, only this time, it’s compounded with violent, full-body tremors.

What’s on the other side of the scuffed metal? Visions of every massive shifter and creep I’ve passed during my escape, waiting behind the door for me, shackles in hand, fill my mind until my knees threaten to give out. Or worse, the Harvester and his band of depraved Hunters.

My eyes slam shut, my fists clenching at my sides. An image, as bright and vivid as if it were real, flashes behind my burning lids.

His cruel, sadistic smirk. The swirling depth of his blackened eyes that never fail to make me shudder. His head cocks to the side predatorially as his grin grows. The long necklace that hangs across his chest sways, taunting me with its power. My power. The Harvester bares his sharp canines and a shiver wracks my body, making his followers chuckle. The sound echoes through my brain and I can almost feel the air around me, thin as if holding its breath. The Harvester wraps his long fingers around the chain he loves to torment me with. He tugs slowly, teasingly, drawing me closer, and closer…

I can’t be trapped again.

“No,” I choke out, my eyes snapping open, my heart thudding frantically. I half expect to have my vision come to life, but all that greets my weary gaze is an empty hall and steel door. There are no chains or weapons. No claws or teeth.

Nothing but a world of the unknown and the promise of possibilities.

It’s more than I have going for me here.

Lunara’s ether surrounds me, gently nudging me forward. Her magic feels like a soft whisper, reassuring me that I'm not alone and that freedom is close. Taking a shaky breath, I brace myself, drawing strength from her unseen presence. My heart pounds in my chest, a chaotic mix of anticipation, fear, and excitement.

I reach out, my fingers brushing the cold metal of the door handle. It feels strange and forbidden after years of confinement, but also hopeful. I press down and, with one last deep breath, I pull.