Chapter 3 The Chase

• I stared at the screen like it owed me a damn explanation.
• Caller ID: Mom.
• Of course.
• The second I picked up, her screech nearly shattered my eardrum.
• “Where the hell are you, Quinn? Do you think this is some kind of game? Get back here right now!”
• I held the phone away from my face and blinked into the sky. Still gray. Still miserable. I exhaled through my nose, trying not to punch a wall or dissolve into flames.
• “I’m coming anyway,” I muttered and hung up before she could spit another insult.
• I should’ve tossed the phone into traffic.
• I walked the rest of the way home. No one stopped me. No one cared. The stares I got? All pity. The same pity I hated when Dylan rejected me, the same pity I spat on when I ran away, barefoot and broken.
• But now? I didn’t feel broken anymore. Something inside me had snapped clean, like the last chain unhooked from my ribs. It still hurt, but I could breathe for once.
• When the Arledge estate came into view, I paused at the gate and stared up at it like it was a stranger’s home. Technically, it always felt like it.
• My hand gripped the cold handle of the front door, and just before I pushed it open, I froze.
• “…the cursed Lycan King’s envoy will be here shortly,” my father’s voice floated out the open living room window.
• I froze. My stomach turned.
• “She’s lucky,” Mother added. “After humiliating us, this is the least she can do.”
• “Sold,” I whispered to myself. “They’re selling me off like I’m… livestock.”
• My nails dug into the door.
• “Is this a goddamn joke?” I roared as I burst in, slamming the door behind me.
• Father turned, barely blinking. “Watch your mouth, girl.”
• I marched in. “Tell me what I just heard isn’t true.”
• “It is. You leave today. The King’s guard will arrive shortly,” he said like he was reading off a weather report.
• My chest caved in.
• “You’re selling me to the cursed Lycan King? The murderer? The one with a trail of blood behind him longer than his shadow?”
• “It’s an honor—”
• “It’s a death sentence!” I snapped. “And you didn’t even ask me? You didn’t think to—”
• A flash. A crack. My face whipped sideways as his palm smacked hard against my cheek.
• I gasped, tasting iron.
• “Be grateful,” he growled. “You’ve embarrassed this family enough.”
• I blinked at him, stunned for maybe half a second. Then I laughed. Laughed so hard I thought I’d choke.
• “You mean after your perfect deal with Dylan fell apart? That’s what this is about? Saving face?”
• “Don’t speak unless spoken to,” my mother cut in coldly.
• “You hate me so much you’re throwing me to a beast,” I hissed.
• “If you hadn’t failed at keeping a man—”
• I lunged forward, but one of the guards stepped between us. “Back off.”
• That’s when I noticed the three men by the hallway—pack guards I hadn’t seen in years. Muscle-bound, silver-armed, ready for war.
• “You’re seriously doing this,” I breathed. “You’re giving me away like a sack of rice?”
• My mother narrowed her eyes. “It’s done. Accept it.”
• “No.” I spun and bolted for the door.
• Before I could reach it, cold fingers yanked my wrist. Mother’s grip was steel.
• “You’re not leaving.”
• I jerked, twisted, tried to shake her off. But she pushed me toward the staircase, and the guards flanked me.
• “Don’t touch me!” I shrieked.
• “Put her in her room!” Father bellowed. “Now!”
• One of the guards hoisted me like I weighed nothing and shoved me up the stairs while I kicked and punched and screamed.
• “This is illegal! I’m not a damn toy! I’m not—”
• They pushed me inside my room and slammed the door shut behind me. A key turned. Then the bolt.
• Trapped.
• Like always.
• I roared, a deep growl tearing from my chest as I punched the wall. My hand ached. Didn’t matter. I grabbed the dresser and threw it against the door. Not that it’d stop anyone.
• My breaths were ragged. My pulse, wild. My wolf was clawing to the surface, as angry as I was.
• They were really going to send me off to the cursed king like some gift-wrapped offering. And no one was coming to save me.
• Fine.
• I’d save myself.
• The window. I ran over, threw it open. Wind howled through, cold and sharp. The branches of the tree beside my room were thinner than I remembered. But they were there.
• And I had nothing to lose.
• I climbed onto the window ledge, looked down at the drop.
• Then I jumped.
• The wind snatched my breath as I hit the first branch, bounced, scraped my arm, then landed hard in a pile of dead leaves.
• Groaning, I scrambled to my feet.
• “GO!” I hissed to myself, feet pounding the dirt as I sprinted away from the house.
• I didn’t make it far.
• Just two blocks down the private trail that led toward the old woods, a black SUV screeched to a halt in front of me.
• Four men in dark leather stepped out. Lycans. No doubt about it.
• One sniffed the air, checked the picture in his hand and grinned. “She’s the one.”
• I turned on my heel and ran.
• Another SUV behind me. They’d blocked both exits, but I smirked crazily, “this is my hood, bitch”.
• One of them shifted, mid‑air. Fur erupted, bones cracked, and a massive gray beast landed on all fours, snarling.
• I veered into the woods. My legs were on fire. My heart? A thunderstorm.
• Branches slapped my face. My foot snagged on a root. I tripped, fell, rolled, and scrambled up again.
• Behind me, I heard them yelling. One of them burst through the tree line and lunged.
• I ducked just in time. His claws missed my back by inches.
• I turned and screamed, “STAY AWAY FROM ME!”
• He snarled. “We don’t want to hurt you, but keep fighting, and I can’t promise anything.”
• Another one lunged, this one in human form. He grabbed me by the waist, but I elbowed him hard. He grunted and lost his grip, and I took off again.
• Straight toward the old creek.
• I leapt over it, almost slipped on the mossy rock, and kept running until my lungs give out.
• A hand caught my ankle.
• I crashed forward, breath knocked out of me.
• He flipped me over and pinned me down.
• “You’re done running,” he said.
• I screamed. Bit his wrist. Kicked. He growled, shifting mid‑hold, muzzle snapping toward my face.
• Just then, another voice cut through the chaos.
• “Let her go.”
• The man froze.
• A shadow moved behind him. One of the guards who’d been quiet this whole time stepped forward, dark eyes locked on me.
• “She’s the King now. You don’t rough her up before she even gets there,” he said calmly.
• “I was following orders—”
• “Then follow them better.”
• The one pinning me hesitated, then released me slowly and backed off.
• I lay there gasping, blood on my lip, knees scraped, heart racing.
• “We're taking you now,” the calm one said, extending a hand.
• I didn’t take it.
• “You’ll have to drag me,” I said.
• He gave a small smirk. “Then I will.”
• He stepped forward.
• But I was faster.
• I yanked the dagger from my boot—one I’d hidden there months ago for emergencies—and stabbed it into his thigh.
• He roared in pain.
• I jumped back and sprinted into the thickest part of the woods, branches tearing at my skin, hair flying behind me.
• They were shouting, chasing me again, but I didn't care. I wasn’t going to stop.
• Not now. Not ever.
• I didn’t know where I was going.
• But I knew what I was running from.
• And that was enough.