The rain in the Neutral Lands didn't wash things clean; it just made the rot spread faster. It drummed a relentless, hollow rhythm against the corrugated tin roof of our shack, matching the erratic beating of my failing heart. I was cold. So incredibly cold. It wasn't just the damp draft seeping through the gaps in the rotting wood; it was the Wolf’s Wasting. My body was finally giving up the ghost, punishing me for severing the bond with my mate five years ago.
"Mama?"
Adley’s voice was small, a whisper that cut through the roar of the storm. I turned my head on the thin, mildewed pillow. Even that small movement sent a spike of agony down my spine. My beautiful girl sat on the edge of the mattress, her knees pulled to her chest. She was too thin, her skin pale and translucent, but her eyes... they were his. Holden’s eyes.
I tried to smile, but my lips felt like cracked parchment. "I'm here, baby."
I knew my time was measured in minutes now. The emptiness where my inner wolf used to be was expanding, a black void swallowing my soul. I reached under the mattress, my fingers trembling as they brushed against the rough wood of the box I had hidden there. It was heavy with secrets.
"Adley," I rasped, pulling the box out. It was just a simple wooden thing, battered and stained, but it held everything that mattered. "Listen to me closely."
She leaned in, her small hand covering mine. Her skin was fever-warm. She was sick again, and I had no medicine left. This was why I had to die. As long as I lived, we were rogues, hunted and starving. But without me...
"Take this," I wheezed, pressing the box into her hands. Inside lay my diary, three crumpled silver coins—all the wealth I had left—and the locket containing a lock of golden fur. Holden’s fur. "You have to go to the Obsidian Shadow Pack. You have to find the Alpha there."
Adley’s brow furrowed. "The Obsidian Alpha? The scary one?"
"He..." My breath hitched, a rattle sounding deep in my chest. I couldn't tell her he was her father. If Holden still hated me—if he believed the lie I told him to save his life—he might reject her too. I couldn't bear the thought of my daughter dying of a broken heart, just like her mother. "He owes me a debt. Give him this box. Promise me, Adley. Promise me you won't stop until you put this in his hands."
"I promise, Mama," she sobbed, a single tear escaping to track through the dirt on her cheek. She didn't cling to me like a normal child; she sat straight, fighting the tears. She had the spirit of an Alpha, even if her body was frail.
"Don't look back," I whispered, my vision blurring at the edges. The darkness was warm, at least. Warmer than this shack. "I love you, my little wolf. Run."
The silence came then. Not the absence of noise, but the absence of pain. The rain faded into a distant hum. I closed my eyes, and for the first time in five years, I didn't see the leaking roof. I saw Holden’s face, smiling at me before the world fell apart.
*I’m sorry,* I breathed into the void. *I did it to save you.*
And then, Molly Phillips was gone.
***
The silence in the shack was broken only by the sound of Adley’s ragged breathing. She didn't scream. She didn't wail. She simply pressed her forehead against her mother’s cooling hand for ten seconds, counting the beats of a heart that was no longer there.
The door creaked open, letting in a gust of freezing wind. Mrs. Garcia stood there, her gray hair plastered to her skull by the rain. The kind Omega took one look at the bed and let out a choked sound, hand flying to her mouth. But there was no time for grief.
"We have to move, child," Mrs. Garcia said, her voice trembling but urgent. "Scavengers are close. They smell... they smell death."
Mrs. Garcia moved with frantic efficiency. she pulled a thick, oversized wool coat onto Adley’s shivering frame and whistled low. From the shadows of the porch, Buster emerged. The massive wolf-dog hybrid, shaggy and scarred, whined as he approached the bed, nudging Molly's limp hand with his wet nose.
"Take her, Buster," Mrs. Garcia commanded, strapping a leather satchel to the dog’s back. She turned to Adley, her eyes filled with tears she refused to shed. "I cannot cross the Neutral Lands, Adley. If the Council finds out I helped rogues, they will burn the safe house. You must walk. Buster knows the way."
Adley nodded. She clutched the wooden box to her chest so tightly her knuckles turned white. She looked at her mother one last time—at the peace on Molly's face that hadn't been there in life—and then turned to the door.
"Let's go, Buster," Adley whispered.
The journey was a blur of gray mud and biting cold. For two days, the five-year-old girl and the hybrid dog tramped through the slush of the Pacific Northwest. They slept under the roots of great pines, shivering together for warmth. Adley ate nothing, feeding the last of her dried meat to Buster so he would have the strength to protect her. Her cough worsened, a deep, rattling sound that mirrored her mother’s final days.
By the time the treeline broke, revealing the imposing iron fences of the Obsidian Shadow Pack territory, Adley was burning with fever. Her legs felt like lead.
Suddenly, the brush exploded.
Three massive wolves circled them. They were huge, their fur sleek and well-fed, radiating an aura of aggression that made the air heavy. Buster snarled, placing himself between Adley and the threat, hackles raised. He was big, but these were warrior wolves. He wouldn't last a minute.
The lead wolf, a dark gray beast with scars across his muzzle, growled low in his throat, crouching to spring.
Adley didn't run. She didn't cower. Something hot and ancient sparked in her chest, overriding the fear. She stepped out from behind Buster, her small boots sinking into the mud. She looked the giant wolf in the eye.
"Stop," she commanded.
It wasn't a scream. It was an order.
For a second, her eyes shifted. The dull hazel vanished, replaced by a flash of brilliant, molten gold—the undeniable mark of a high-born Alpha. The gray wolf froze mid-step, confused by the sudden, crushing weight of authority coming from this tiny, dying scrap of a girl.
"I need..." Adley swayed, the world tilting on its axis. The wooden box slipped from her numb fingers, landing with a thud in the wet grass. "I need the Alpha."
The darkness that had taken her mother rose up to greet her, and Adley collapsed into the mud.
