The Runaway Luna

PEARL'S POV

I spot Bisca's shadow shifting, her boots whispering against the gravel in the courtyard.

She's about to open it.

A bead of sweat trickles down my temple, even though my skin feels frozen. I slide my fingers under the guard's cloak, gripping the key he put in my palm moments ago; it feels cold now. Everything feels cold.

The orchard will erupt with hunting horns long before my feet touch the river, and if Bisca catches sight of the blood on the bracket and the empty shackles, she'll either call Aleric or scream for Kaela.

For a moment, I think about crawling back and hiding my raw wrists in iron, giving in to the chain, because I'd rather be chained than shot by Aleric's arrows or even remain broken instead of turning to ashes by sunrise.

Then I remember her voice whispering in me like poisoned wine. "Pearl, I'll always stand by you." Behind that door, Kaela listened intently as she whispered orchard secrets near my ear. Her soft hands brushed my hair while she counted my bruises, which she would later share with Kaela, turning my weakness into gossip for her gain.

Stupid, I hiss at myself. Blind. I let her braid my hair before the mating ceremony, wrap me in ribbons, and feed me the hope that Aleric would choose me, that someone, anyone, might see beyond the dirt they threw on my name.

Now, I can see it from my cell, tucked beneath the orchard wall, while Bisca's boots pause above me. I see her tilt her head, her hair perfectly groomed, while mine reeks of the stables. "Don't worry," she'd say. "When he sees you, he'll know you're special. He'll see you're the real Luna."

Lies. I remember the twist of her mouth when she pulled the ribbon tight enough to choke me. I can see the sparkle in Kaela's eyes when Bisca shared my foolish daydreams with her.

In the hallway outside the banquet, I watched them laugh together, and Bisca leaned in close to my sister as if they'd both been betrayed by the same person.

A sound that could be either a snarl or a sob clamps down on my throat. The hinge above me groans again. Is it open or closed? Has she realized the cuffs are empty? She might have slipped in to check the stone corner where my hope died.

Inside, I growl, No more chains and no more sweet poison.

With my knees scraping against the tunnel roots and my palms burning from the frost, I push forward.

Whether she discovers it or not, I won't give in now.

At the mouth of the tunnel, the raw wind bites my skin. I climb as Frost cracks the stones in the far corner.

Blood drips from my torn wrists and seeps through the guard's borrowed cloak as I scramble towards the opening.

Halfway up, my forehead slams into a cold stone, and my mother's words echo in my mind:

"Run so far, they can't drag you back," pierced the ice.

Bisca's ghost chuckles: "Too late."

As I swing my leg over at the top, my cloak catches on a rusty nail, and roots scratch my calf before I tumble to the other side. My hands sink into frost-burned moss while my knees hit the frozen ground hard. It tears away from me as I land.

Then I hear footsteps behind me, followed by a voice that sends a chill through my bones. "Pearl," Aleric says, his tone as welcoming as grave soil, and steel slides free from its sheath. "Keep running," Kaela urges. "The dogs want a taste of you."

My ribs crack like old ice as I push myself up.

Flashback: Gullible Pearl

That night, under the white blossom tree in the orchard, with Bisca's head resting on my lap and the stars seeming to whisper above, it all floods back.

"Promise me you'll never leave me alone here, Bisca." She patiently braided my hair, her fingers cool against my scalp.

"Never. I'd die before I betrayed you, Pearl. You're my family, too."

I believed her, like a starving pup licking the hand that feeds it poison.

When Kaela's punishments started seeping under my skin, and the whip cut into my back for the first time, Bisca was there at the foot of my bed, her hands cold on my fevered brow and worry in her eyes.

"If only you'd listen better, Pearl. Then Kaela wouldn't have to be so harsh."

I allowed that rot to envelop me like a cozy blanket. I was fooled into thinking my secrets and hers were safe. I shared every bruise and dream with her, and she handed them back with a smile-Kaela's smile.

Now I see it clearly, like Aleric's arrow being pulled back behind me.

I should've picked up on it, but I was so desperate for voices that didn't spit poison and hands that didn't strike.

The edge of the orchard, the mist of the black river curling like ghostly fingers, and the border stones are so close I can taste the iron of Vartun's woods as the frost cracks under my boots.

My palms sink into the cold muck as I stumble and fall to my knees again.

Aleric's voice gets closer, and it makes me feel sick.

"Pearl!" His bow creaks; the string is a promise of death.

I can't look back. Blood trails down my wrists like a broken promise, and muck covers my fingers as I crawl ahead.

I throw myself to the left; behind me, the arrow slams into the tree, narrowly missing my ear. Pain blooms behind my eyes, bright and exhilarating, and I crash into frozen reeds.

"I'm alive! I'm still alive."

The ancient granite, covered in moss and engraved with Vartun's wolf crest, looms as I struggle on. My knees burn raw against the ground, and my cloak drags through the mud.

Aleric's footsteps shatter the stillness behind me, and his growl shakes the trees:

"You're mine, Pearl. Run, crawl; it won't matter!"

The black river coughs mist as I drag my ribs over the first stone. The hiss of the arrow slices through the silence, indicating that it is getting closer-too close-

I move on. In the muck where my throat should've bled, the arrow buries itself.

I let out a ragged breath that might be a laugh. I give it one last push. My stomach rubs against granite; my lips sting from the frost. I'm crossing over.

At the edge of Vartun, the hounds from the orchard are choking, and I can feel Pandara's silence fading behind me.

Aleric's shout echoes through the trees, but he's forced to stop. The rules of Vartun demand blood from those who trespass. These stones are beyond Kaela's reach.

I feel dizzy.

[Pearl collapses].

Mud swallows my face, and frost nips at my ears. It's the black lullaby of the river.

"I'm out! I'm finally free."

A shadow blocks the moon, broad shoulders and fur-lined leather; the wolf beside him perks up and opens its yellow eyes like twin lanterns.

He kneels, and for the first time in ages, I feel the warmth of a living creature.

His gloved hand gently brushes the frost from my temple.

His breath, tasting of winter and iron, lingers in my ear.

"Not dead yet, are you, little stray?" His voice carries the weight of old woods and quiet wildness. "Good."

As the wolf sniffs at the blood on my wrists, its muzzle dips, and steam rises from its nostrils. It exposes its fangs, not towards me, but towards the shadows lurking behind me.

I swear I can hear the orchard sigh somewhere, Kaela's scream muffled by trees that will never care for her.

The man's rough, bark-calloused fingers lift my chin. He tilts my face toward the moon. I can see his eyes; they're alive but just as cold as the river.

"He murmurs, 'Looks like Pandara lost something precious tonight.'" His smile is more menacing than soothing.

"Or maybe it finally spit out what it couldn't kill."

I wish I could ask, "Who are you?"

But before I can speak, the silence slips down my throat.

The last thing I see is his grin, sharp like fresh bone, and the wolf's eyes darting back toward the orchard.

"Sleep, stray," he whispers. "You're ours now."

And just like that, the orchard crumbles behind me like a dream I no longer belong to as the darkness wraps around me.