Chapter 6 A World Unknown

• Celeste stood at the edge of unfamiliar territory, her damp clothes clinging to her skin as the weight of her decision settled deep in her bones. The river behind her was more than just a physical barrier—it was a severed tie, a boundary she would never cross again.
• Rowan stood a few feet away, shaking the water from his hair as he scanned the area. “We should keep moving. We’re safe from your old pack, but we don’t know what’s ahead.”
• Celeste nodded, but her body resisted the command to move. She was free. Truly free. But freedom didn’t come with direction. She had no plan, no place to go, and no one waiting for her.
• Rowan seemed to sense her hesitation. “I have a contact a few miles from here,” he offered. “Someone who won’t ask questions.”
• Celeste turned to him, studying the sharp angles of his face. “Why are you helping me?”
• A shadow flickered across his expression before he looked away. “Because I know what it’s like to have nowhere to go.”
• The honesty in his voice settled something inside her. She didn’t have to trust him completely, but for now, he was all she had.
• They moved forward in silence, deeper into the unknown, the past shrinking behind them with every step.
• Celeste didn’t know where this path would lead.
• But for the first time, she was the one choosing it.
• The night stretched before them, endless and uncertain. The trees loomed taller here, untouched by her old pack’s scent, and the air felt different—cleaner, lighter, as if she could finally breathe without the weight of expectation pressing down on her chest.
• Celeste focused on the rhythmic crunch of her footsteps against the forest floor, pushing aside the exhaustion creeping into her limbs. Her body ached from everything—her wounds, the river, the sheer emotional toll of what she had left behind—but stopping wasn’t an option.
• “How far is this place?” she asked, her voice quieter than she intended.
• “Another hour, maybe less,” Rowan replied. His pace never faltered, steady and sure, as if he’d walked this path before. “We’ll be safe there.”
• Safe. The word felt foreign.
• She had spent so long enduring, surviving, shrinking herself down to avoid the pack’s wrath. The idea of safety wasn’t just unfamiliar—it was unsettling.
• Rowan glanced at her. “You’re thinking too much.”
• Celeste huffed, wrapping his borrowed jacket tighter around herself. “Is that a bad thing?”
• “Depends. If you’re regretting leaving, then yes.”
• Her steps slowed slightly, but she didn’t stop. “I’m not regretting it.”
• She wasn’t. She couldn’t.
• Even now, with the cold seeping into her bones and the uncertainty of her future clawing at her resolve, she knew she had made the right choice.
• But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
• Rowan didn’t press further, which she was grateful for. Instead, they walked in silence, the quiet of the night wrapping around them.
• It wasn’t until they crested a small hill that Rowan finally spoke again. “There.”
• Celeste followed his gaze. Below them, nestled between the towering pines, was a cabin—modest, darkened by the night, but solid. A single wisp of smoke curled from the chimney, proof that someone was inside.
• Her stomach twisted with nerves. “Who lives there?”
• “A friend,” Rowan said. “Someone who doesn’t belong to any pack.”
• An outsider. Like her.
• Celeste swallowed hard. She wasn’t sure what she had expected—maybe more time to prepare, more space to process the fact that she was stepping into a world she didn’t understand.
• But she had left hesitation behind with the pack.
• Straightening her shoulders, she followed Rowan down the hill, toward whatever awaited her next.