Chosen

43

My breaths came out in harsh pants, my legs scratched and stinging from the amount of times I'd fallen in my journey. Dirt and foliage clung to my still-wet skin, hardly drying in the dying light of twilight, and my dress clung awkwardly to my body. Ringlets of red hair were plastered to my face, but I didn't mind; if it was stuck to my cheek, it wouldn't get in my eyes.

I only had a vague sense of where I was headed. I'd never been to the base camp between the river bend, but I'd heard about it from the Lycans that patrolled there. It was the least popular base camp, and oftentimes the newest and youngest patrol members got sent there, drawing the short straw. As those Lycans happened to also live in the pack house when I did – they were usually young and unmated, so it was not uncommon – I'd often hear about the burden of working at that particular camp. The river was a constant hum in the background, irritating the Lycans with more sensitive hearing, and the land was mushy and muddy. Oftentimes, they'd complain, they'd go a whole shift without seeing any Lycan other than the one partner they were given to man the base camp.

Two Lycans, usually younger and less experienced, guarding the base camp that is most removed from all the others. A perfect place to strike.

No doubt, that was where Rykor had his males posted. They could easily overtake the patrols at the camp, and then they'd have a lookout point to the whole of White Moon.

Well, those young Lycans were right. This land does suck. I thought as my foot got stuck in a deeper-than-it-appeared mud puddle. I fumbled for a minute, then fell forward, knocking the breath from my lungs as I landed on a gnarled tree root. I heaved and gasped, crawling ahead.

I have to keep moving, need to keep moving...

"I'd stay still if you don't want your throat slashed." The harsh growl that came from my left should have startled me, but I was too tired to care. Instead, I collapsed, face first into the mud.

A rough hand grabbed my knotted hair, darkened from the mud and water. My neck strained as my eyes met the angry expression of a familiar male. Suddenly, the harsh lines softened as the anger bled from his features, surprise and a tinge of horror mixing into his kind features. "Lily?"

"Kent." I could barely whisper the old male's name, but the relief I felt at seeing him was enough to release the last of the tension from my form, and just before I collapsed again, I felt his arms pick me up and heard his frantic shout.

"Alpha!"