Unwilling Acceptance

Prologue

She does what she's told—she runs.

She never looks back. Ignores them as they call out for her. She stumbles over the dead branches littering the forest floor. Her breath comes out in shallow pants. She's been running for what feels like hours, but in reality it's only been minutes. She ignores the agonizing pain in her chest and pushes herself to the brink.

She's desperate to get the hell out of here. She's already in a compromised position because of what she's leaving behind. She can't start thinking about her family or she'll end up turning around and trying to save them. She recalls her mom's tear-filled eyes as her dad urgently told her to go as far as she can. She has to obey him, regardless of what she wants. After all, he's the alpha of the Moonstone Pack.

If she thinks about them for too long, the ache in her heart will be all-consuming. She needs to clear her mind and keep going if she wants to stand any chance. If she had to guess, it's about 1 a.m. right now. She still hasn't fully adjusted to the darkness surrounding her. She's tripping over rocks and twigs and severely lacking focus. She doesn't know how much further she can go on like this.

She stops to catch her breath. That's when she hears it—the cracking of a branch and the rustling of leaves. She freezes, all of her senses alert. She doesn't know what to do. Her mind is running a mile a minute with every possible exit strategy. After a split second, she starts to run. She can't shift because of her complete inability to focus at this moment. The fight or flight response is too high and overtaking her mind. Trying to sprint away, her hypersensitive ears are picking up every disturbance in the otherwise silent woods.

After about five minutes of running, she thinks she's in the clear to look back and see if anyone's behind her. Before she can fully crane her neck, she's tackled. She's pushed to the ground as the person on top of her tries to hold her down. With a burst of adrenaline, she's able to flip her attacker onto their back. She bolts up and begins to run, feeling proud of her escape. That victory is short-lived as the person quickly ascends on her and roughly grabs onto her wrists. She fights her attacker with all of her strength, kicking and clawing with abandon. Yet, she's no match for her attacker's strength as they easily subdue her. Her face is currently shoved into the ground when the person stands up and yanks her up as well.

"You are trespassing on the Redwood Pack's territory, " a deep voice says. Her blood runs cold at the name. She would recognize that name from anywhere. Rage and sadness tug at her. The Redwood Pack is one of the most ruthless and merciless packs in America. They're particularly known for their morbid displays after a victory—staking their opponents' decapitated heads along the borders of their territory.

'Of course,' she thinks to herself bitterly, 'out of all of the packs' territories I could've stumbled upon, it had to be theirs.'

"For whatever reason you're here, that doesn't matter. You're a rogue and we have a special place for those like you," he says with a cruel smirk.

Before she can say a word, she feels a sudden pressure on the back of her head. All she sees is darkness as black spots flood her vision.

Well it's only been a mere 7 years since I last even pondered the thought of updating LOL! I've since finished college and recently have gotten back into reading. I thought it was only fair to revisit the first story I ever started. I will slowly but surely be fully editing and continuing the story and hope you'll come along with me for it :)