Chapter 2: Sved By A Silver-Haired Man
1390 Words
Emma's POV:
The air screams past my ears.
I'm falling. Fast. Weightless. Wind tears at my hair, my torn dress. Below, jagged rocks rush up.
This is it.
'At least I'll die free.'
Something solid catches me.
The world stops.
Strong arms wrap around my waist, my legs. The sickening drop vanishes. I'm floating. My eyes fly open.
I forget how to breathe.
A man holds me.
No—something more.
His face is inches from mine. Silver hair cascades past his shoulders, so pale it glows. Each strand catches light. His features are carved from marble—sharp cheekbones, strong jaw, a mouth that should be cruel but isn't.
His eyes.
Brown. Deep, endless brown flecked with gold. Autumn leaves caught in honey. They look at me with an intensity that makes my chest hurt.
Kindness.
I can't move. Can't think. Can't do anything but stare.
"Breathe," he says softly.
His voice wraps around me like velvet. Low. Smooth. Commanding without being harsh.
I realize I'm holding my breath. My lungs unlock. I gasp.
He's moving. Rising. He leaps from rock to rock, ascending the cliff with impossible grace. Each movement is fluid. Powerful. My weight means nothing to him.
'This isn't possible.'
A thick branch materializes beneath us. He lands without sound, settling me against the trunk. His hands are still on me—one at my back, one cradling my head—and his touch burns through my torn dress.
I'm shaking so violently I hear my teeth chatter.
"You're safe," he murmurs.
The words hit like a physical blow. Safe. I haven't been safe in six months.
My brain restarts. I scramble backward. Bark scrapes my spine. "W-what—who—"
"Easy." He doesn't move closer. Just watches me with those impossible eyes. "You're in shock."
"I jumped." My voice comes out broken. Too high. "I was—they were—I had to—"
"I know."
Two words. But the way he says them—gentle, certain—makes my throat close.
"How—" I look down. We're forty feet up. Below, torchlight flickers through trees. Lucian's guards. Still searching. "How did you catch me?"
The corner of his mouth lifts. "Reflex."
My hands ball into fists. "What do you want?"
His head tilts. Confusion flickers across those perfect features. "Want?"
"Everyone wants something." My nails bite into my palms. "So what is it? You going to sell me back to him? Keep me for yourself? What's your price?"
Something flashes in his eyes. Pain, maybe. Or anger on my behalf.
"A girl like you," he says quietly, each word deliberate, "shouldn't die in a place like this."
The gentleness cracks me open. I swallow hard. Force the weakness back down. "Then what do you want from me?"
"Nothing." He says it like it's simple. "I'm taking you home."
I laugh. Jagged. Bitter. "Home? I don't have a home anymore."
"Silver Moon Pack," he says. "Beta Mark Reid's estate."
My heart stops.
"How—" The word barely makes it out. "How do you know that?"
"Your scent." He says it matter-of-factly. "Silver Moon wolves have a distinct marker. And you carry your father's bloodline. Clearly."
Hope flares in my chest. Bright. Vicious. Agonizing.
I crush it immediately.
"It's impossible." My voice cracks. "That's thousands of miles from here. And they—" I gesture toward the torches below. My hand shakes. "They'll find us. They'll catch us. They'll—"
"They won't."
The absolute certainty in his voice makes me look up.
He's watching me with an expression I can't decipher. Not pity. Not lust. Something else—something that makes my ribs feel too tight.
A shout echoes from below. Closer.
"We need to move," he says. He extends his hand. Palm up. Open. Waiting. "Trust me?"
I stare at that hand. At the calluses on his fingers. The strength in his wrist.
Six months ago, I trusted people. I believed in goodness.
Now I know better.
But something in those brown-gold eyes... Something in the way he's looking at me...
"Silver Moon," I whisper. "The Reid estate. Eastern border, near the river bend."
His expression softens. "Good girl."
He puts two fingers to his lips and whistles. A sound that shouldn't be humanly possible. High. Pure. Wild. It echoes through the forest.
For a heartbeat, nothing happens.
Then the ground shakes.
A massive shape emerges from the darkness. At first I think it's a horse. As it steps into moonlight, my breath catches.
A deer.
No—an elk. The biggest creature I've ever seen. Antlers spreading like a crown of bone and silver. Its fur is midnight black with silver undertones that shimmer. Its eyes glow amber. Intelligent. Ancient.
It stops beneath our branch. Waiting.
"What—" My voice doesn't work. "What is that?"
"Transportation." The silver-haired man drops from the branch, landing soundlessly on the creature's broad back. He looks up. Hand extended. "Coming?"
I look at his hand. At the impossible elk. At the torches drawing closer. Lucian's voice shouting orders.
Deer are fierce by nature, and I have never heard of any werewolf, not even the most skilled hunter, riding one.
'This is insane.'
'This is my only chance.'
I jump.
He catches me like I weigh nothing, settling me in front of him. His arms come around my waist—not threatening, just securing. I feel the solid heat of him against my spine. His heartbeat thuds slow and steady.
"Hold on," he murmurs against my ear.
The elk moves.
Not runs. Flies.
Trees blur into streaks of black and silver. Wind tears at my face, my hair, stealing my breath. The forest becomes speed and shadow and moonlight. His arms are iron around me, keeping me anchored.
I should be terrified.
Instead, for the first time in six months, something dangerous and fragile blooms in my chest.
Hope.
*****
Hours pass in blur of speed and darkness.
The elk doesn't slow. Doesn't tire. It runs like wind given form. Behind me, the silver-haired man is silent. Steady. His arms never loosen. His heartbeat never quickens.
I don't know when I stop being afraid.
Maybe it's the way he holds me—protective without being possessive. Maybe it's the fact that he hasn't asked for anything. Hasn't touched me beyond what's necessary.
Maybe it's just exhaustion.
My eyes grow heavy. My head nods forward.
"Almost there," he says quietly.
I jerk awake. "What—"
"Look."
Through the trees ahead, lights flicker. Familiar lights. Home lights.
My heart lurches into my throat.
The elk slows as we approach the border. When it stops, we're at the edge of Silver Moon territory. Exactly where I told him. The Reid estate sits in the distance. Windows glowing warm.
I can't move. Can't believe this is real.
"Down," he says gently.
His hands guide me as I slide off. My legs nearly buckle. He's there immediately. Steadying me.
"You—" My voice breaks. "You actually brought me home."
"I said I would."
I look up at him. At that impossible face. Those knowing eyes. "Why?"
He doesn't answer. Instead, he reaches into his shirt and pulls out something that catches moonlight. A small horn, carved from bone or ivory, strung on a leather cord.
"Take this." He presses it into my palm.
The horn is warm from his body heat. Intricate patterns spiral across its surface.
"What is it?"
"If you need me again," he says, his brown-gold eyes holding mine, "blow it. I'll come."
My fingers close around the horn. It feels important. Powerful.
"I don't—" Words tangle in my throat. "I don't even know who you are."
A smile touches his mouth. Small. Almost sad.
"You will." He steps back. Shadows already swallowing him. "Someday."
"Wait—" I reach for him but he's already moving away, already fading. "Please. Tell me your name. Let me thank you properly. Let me—"
He pauses at the tree line. Moonlight catches in his silver hair.
"You'll have a chance to know," he says softly. "Later."
And then he's gone.
Just—gone.
Like he was never there at all.
I turned around, and there before me was the home I had been longing for, my family!
I ran towards the house!
- Writer
