Seraphina’s POV
The first thing that hit wasn’t pain—it was the sll.
Death. Pure, concentrated death that crawled into my nostrils and wrapped around my brain like a living thing. Sweet and putrid and so thick I could taste it on my tongue.
I gagged before I even opened my eyes, my stomach lurching violently. Sothing was pressed against my face—sothing soft and wet and wrong.
I forced my eyes open and scread.
A rotting face stared back at , empty eye sockets crawling with maggots. I was lying face-down on a pile of corpses, my cheek pressed against decomposing flesh.
"No!" I scrambled backward, my hands slipping on things I didn’t want to identify.
Bodies everywhere. Dozens of them piled like garbage in a massive pit. n, won, so barely more than teenagers. All in various stages of decay. Flies sward in thick black clouds. The stench was overwhelming.
I rolled off the pile and hit solid ground hard, fresh pain exploding through my shoulder. But I didn’t care. I had to get away from the corpses.
My stomach heaved again. I vomited until there was nothing left, my body convulsing with dry heaves that felt like they were tearing my ribs apart.
*Ayla?* I called desperately into my mind, searching for any hint of my wolf’s presence. *Ayla, please, I need you.*
Nothing. Complete, terrifying silence where she should have been.
The wolf poison. It was still in my system, cutting off from everything that made strong. I was alone in my own head again.
"Get up," I whispered to myself, my voice shaking. "You have to get up."
I tried to stand and imdiately collapsed. My legs felt like water. Every muscle in my body scread in protest. Whatever they’d injected with had left weaker than a human.
I looked down at myself and nearly vomited again. My clothes were in tatters, stained with blood and worse things. Dried gore caked my skin. My left ankle was swollen to twice its normal size, already turning purple.
But I was breathing. My heart was beating. Sohow, impossibly, I wasn’t dead.
*They threw away like trash,* I realized with growing horror. *They thought I was dead and dumped with the others.*
"Adrian, Damien" I whispered, the thought of my family giving the strength to try again. "I have to get ho."
Using a nearby tree trunk for support, I managed to pull myself upright. My ankle nearly buckled the mont I put weight on it. Definitely sprained, possibly broken. But it held.
I looked around, trying to get my bearings. Dense forest stretched in every direction. No roads, no buildings, no signs of civilization. Just trees and underbrush that could hide an army of rogues.
*Where am I?* Panic started to claw at my chest. *How far into rogue territory did they take ?*
I picked a direction at random and started walking. Each step was agony. My ankle sent lightning bolts of pain up my leg. My ribs ached with every breath. The wolf poison made everything worse, amplifying pain that should have been manageable.
*Damien,* I tried reaching out through our mate bond. *Damien, can you hear ?*
The connection felt cold, distant, like trying to call through static. But it wasn’t broken. Muffled, maybe blocked by whatever poison they’d pumped into .
He was alive. He had to be alive.
The forest was eerily quiet. No bird calls, no rustle of small animals. Even the trees seed to lean away from this place, as if nature itself wanted nothing to do with the horror behind .
After what felt like hours, I had to stop. I was gasping for air, my whole body shaking with exhaustion. My hands were trembling so badly I could barely grip the tree I was leaning against.
The wolf poison had stolen everything—my strength, my healing, my enhanced senses. I was as helpless as a newborn.
I pushed away from the tree and kept walking. My ankle was getting worse—each step sent fresh waves of agony through my leg. I started limping heavily, using trees for support whenever I could.
The sun was climbing higher, beating down through the canopy with unseasonable warmth. Sweat mixed with the dried blood on my skin, making everything itch and burn. My mouth was bone dry. When had I last had water?
A branch caught my torn shirt, yanking backward. I stumbled, my ankle finally giving out completely. I hit the ground hard, my vision going white with pain.
For a long mont, I just lay there in the dirt and leaves, gasping. My whole body felt like it was on fire. Every cut, every bruise, every ache amplified tenfold without my wolf healing.
I rolled onto my side, biting back a scream as my ribs protested. My hands were scraped raw from all the falls. Blood seeped through my torn clothing from a dozen different wounds.
Using a fallen log for support, I managed to get back on my feet. My ankle buckled imdiately, but I caught myself. I couldn’t put any real weight on it anymore, but I could still hobble.
The sun reached its peak and started to descend. How many hours had I been walking? It felt like days. My legs were shaking so badly I could barely stay upright.
But I couldn’t stop. Stopping ant dying. Dying ant leaving Adrian orphaned, leaving Damien to bla himself for not finding in ti.
The sun was starting to sink toward the horizon when I finally heard it—voices.
My head snapped up, ignoring the fresh wave of dizziness. Through a gap in the trees, I could see movent. Three figures in what looked like military fatigues.
Border patrol. It had to be border patrol.
"Help," I tried to call out, but only a hoarse croak erged from my ruined throat. I swallowed hard, tasting blood, and tried again.
"Help ," I managed, the words barely audible.
They didn’t hear. They were moving away, their voices getting fainter with each step.
*No!* Panic gave strength I didn’t know I still had. I dragged myself toward them, using my arms to pull my body forward when my legs wouldn’t cooperate. Rocks and roots tore at my clothes, opened fresh cuts on my skin.
"HELP!" I scread with everything I had left, my voice breaking completely. "PLEASE, HELP !"
The figures stopped. Turned.
"Soone’s out there," I heard one of them say.
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