The Scented Summer Night

"Don't look back!" A voice whispered, fiercely.

The words echoed like a prayer in her head - Mia's voice, breaking with fear as she ran.

But even with that, Elowyn couldn't dare look back.

Behind her, the night howled. Trees clawed at the sky. And somewhere far off, too close, the Pack Lord's scouts were closing in. She could hear them. The padded footsteps, pack growls, the metal creak of a chain leash, her stepdad yelling at her sobbing mother.

She tightened her fists.

Her boots slapped the earth, soaked and freezing, every breath a knife to her lungs. Her hood clung to her damp hair. She didn't stop. Couldn't. Not when her scent was strong to pull them her way. Not when her real name still echoed behind her like a curse.

Elowyn Froste. To be claimed. Promised. Hunted.

They wanted her for deep reasons and her stepfather didn't care. Her mother couldn't do anything. Nothing! She was just a woman to be used.

A once alluring Vixen who lost her mate and turned her back on her daughter to favor another power-hungry animal.

So Elowyn ran.

And now-

"Ashmoore's Training Academy's the only way out." the whisper said. "No one will look for a girl among Alphas. No one of them packs can get let in. So, don't give up."

A plan.

A dangerous one.

But it was all she had left.

She stumbled, knees buckling on the icy slope. Scraped palms. Blood. The weeds and shrubs clawed at her but she couldn't dare to mind.

Her disguise was still intact: hair chopped. Chest bound. Her forged name pressed against her ribs like a second heartbeat. Ashmoore's Training Academy. Elyan Froste. Male. Admitted.

If she could just make it to the cave and meet her bestfriend. For one last time....

"Don't look back. Don't look back."

A snarl split the darkness behind her.

She ran harder.

A flicker of firelight.

She stumbled into the clearing like a storm - soaked, shaking, breathless. The circle of stones was exactly where Mia said it'd be. Elowyn ran in and dropped to her knees, knuckles raw, body aching.

"You're early, dear." a voice said, smooth and dry as ash.

Mia stood in the shadows, cloak billowing, fingers already smeared with chalk and herbs. Her black eyes glinted with moonlight, like they already knew what would happen next.

"Mia!" Elowyn rasped.

Mia sighed, crouching down, pushing a warm, glowing flask into her hands. "Sip that. It'll always mask your scent for up to six hours. Any longer, you're on your own."

"And my injuries, face and voice?"

"The more you drink, the more it disguises. It'll slightly dull your features. You'll pass as a tired boy in the right light. Drink it once you see the gates."

Elowyn hesitated, hands trembling. "What if they catch me anyway?"

Mia raised one brow, her expression unreadable.