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Hailee’s POV

The train rocked gently as it pulled farther from the station, the steady clatter of the wheels almost soothing, almost like a lullaby. I kept the boys close, my arms wrapped tight around them, their warmth pressed against as if I could shield them from everything waiting outside these walls. For a few stolen minutes, I let myself breathe. Just breathe.

I didn’t know where I was taking them. I had no plan, no map, no destination waiting. Just the desperate need to get away. To get out. To run until Frederick and the life I’d built there were nothing but a mory.

Was it foolish? Reckless? Probably. But what else could I do? Every day in that house was tearing apart. Every glance at Frederick, every kindness from him, was another blade against my heart. I couldn’t keep hurting him—couldn’t keep standing beside a man who gave everything when I couldn’t give him what he wanted most. My love.

So leaving felt like the only choice left. Even if it was madness.

I looked down at the boys. Oscar sat stiff and quiet, deep in thought. Oliver leaned into , his small hand gripping mine. And Ozzy, my calst, stared out the window, his brown eyes sharp and distant, like he was already piecing together more than he should.

They were silent, but I knew they were thinking. I knew they were questioning. And I couldn’t answer them, not yet.

I rested my forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching the world blur past in streaks of green and gold. Each mile that passed was a mile farther from Frederick. A mile closer to freedom. Or maybe closer to danger. I didn’t know.

My chest tightened. Maybe I was leading them into sothing worse. Maybe I was making the biggest mistake of my life.

But still—I couldn’t turn back.

I closed my eyes, drawing in a shaky breath. This has to be right. This has to be.

And then—the air shifted.

The doors at the end of the carriage banged open, and four figures stepped in. At first, I thought they were just n, but the mont the sunlight slanted across their faces, my breath caught. Pale skin, sharp eyes glowing faintly red. Vampires.

My stomach dropped.

Each of them held long, gleaming weapons, but worse than that—charms. Black stones set into silver rods, humming with a magic that made the air thick and heavy.

One of them lifted his weapon high, his voice cutting through the carriage. "Stay still!" His fangs glinted when he spoke. "Anyone who moves dies. This charm will rip your soul from your body before you even scream."

Gasps filled the train. Mothers clutched their children. n froze with their fists half-raised, too afraid to try anything.

I pressed the boys tighter to . My body trembled, not from fear for myself, but for them. For Oscar, Oliver, and Ozzy.

Moon above... I wanted to fight. I wanted to tear into these monsters, rip them apart before they could lay a finger on my children. But without my wolf... I was nothing. My wolf was gone, stripped from long ago, and all I had left was a hollow ache where my power used to be.

I clenched my jaw, hating myself. I was powerless. And they were many.

The leader stepped farther into the aisle, his red eyes scanning each face slowly, savoring the fear. He grinned, sharp and cruel. "You all belong to us now."

I swallowed hard, holding the boys tighter, whispering against their hair so only they could hear. "Don’t move. Don’t say a word. Please."

Inside, my heart scread. If only I still had my wolf... maybe then I could protect them. Maybe then I wouldn’t be this helpless.

But here, in the harsh light of afternoon, with four vampires circling like predators—I had no power.

And for the first ti since leaving Frederick’s house, I wondered if I had just led us straight into sothing worse.

The train rattled on for hours, the air inside so heavy with fear it was difficult to breathe. No one spoke. No one moved. The vampires patrolled the aisles like wolves guarding prey, their charms glowing faintly in their hands.

My sons clung to the whole ti. Oscar’s face was buried in my side, his little fists gripping my dress as if he was forcing himself not to attack. Ozzy leaned against , his brown eyes wide, unblinking, too calm for a child his age. And Oliver—sweet Oliver—his small hand never left mine, his palm clammy with fear.

Every bump of the train, every creak of the tracks, made my heart pound harder.

Where were they taking us? My mind spun with possibilities, different dark thoughts buzzing in my head. Were they going to sell us into so underground market? Were we to be drained dry, used as livestock for their thirst? Or worse—turned, enslaved, stripped of whatever scraps of freedom we had left?

I wanted to believe there would be a chance to escape, that sohow I could fight back, but deep down I knew the truth. Without my wolf, I was little more than prey. And with those cursed charms in their hands, even the strongest Alpha wouldn’t stand a chance. I could attack them and probably have an edge over them with fangs and claws, but not with that magic in their hands.

Finally, with a screech, the train slowed. My stomach dropped. It was dark outside now, the windows reflecting nothing but our pale faces and the faint shimr of moonlight.

The doors slid open, and more of them were waiting. Shadows with red eyes, their pale faces smirking as they ordered us out.

"Move," one barked, waving the charm. "Out. Now!"

We shuffled forward, the passengers herded like cattle. My sons stayed pressed against as we stepped onto the gravel. My chest tightened when I saw it—large black trucks waiting in the shadows, their backs open like cages.

I felt my fangs threaten to pierce through, instinct clawing at to fight. My blood boiled, my wolf scread to co forward—but I had nothing. No wolf. No strength. And with that cursed charm in their hands, without my wolf that had my gifted abilities, I wouldn’t win.

I was helpless.

I gripped the boys tighter, my eyes burning as they pushed us toward the truck.

Then—so softly I almost missed it—Oliver’s whisper brushed my ear.

"Mama... I’ll go call for help."

My head snapped toward him, my eyes wide with shock. "Oliver—"

But before I could finish, before I could even blink, it happened.

Oscar shifted just slightly, pressing closer to , blocking the view. Ozzy moved too, subtly stepping in front of Oliver, shielding him with his small fra.

And in that split second—my boy slipped away.

Oliver darted sideways, into the shadows, so fast and quiet it was almost like a ghost vanishing. My breath caught in my throat, my eyes widening.

I wanted to scream. To call him back. To beg him not to go. But I couldn’t. If I made a sound, if I even glanced too long in his direction—they would notice. They would catch him. And they would kill him.

So I stayed frozen. Silent. My lips pressed tight, my throat burning.

I just stood there, helpless, as my son disappeared into the woods.

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