Chapter 3 Shadows Of The Past

The sun was low and long, bony shadows spread across the forest. Seraphine was gasping, short, tortured breaths, for her body had been battered in the fight and then the forced sprint through the trees. Ash’s dead weight sprawled across her shoulder, but Seraphine wouldn’t slow. They could not afford to. And with every minute that passed, there had been another risk. Ash stirred groggily and moaned as he tried to lift his head. His eyelids blinked open, all to be ever so hazy, blood loss invading his sights. “We have to … keep going,” he rasped, his voice scratchy. “They won’t stop… they won’t stop until they kill us both.” She felt goosebumps run down her spine at his words. That relentless pursuit had turned into more than an annoyance. It was a promise. But every instinct in Seraphine urged her to continue. They had come too far, sacrificed too much. She couldn’t just leave it there. “I know,” she said, whispering, her voice tight. "We’ll make it. Just hold on." Each step more weighted than the last, the gravity of their situation, the weight of Ash’s life in her hands, carrying her down. The trees around them became thicker. The branches reached out over their heads as if to try to block their path. Seraphine staggered, the wound in her side blazing, but she did not take the time to slow. The sounds of the outside world, birdsong, and the rustling of leaves had that quality of hollowing, as if the trees were holding their breath, waiting for what was to come. One moment, Ash’s arms had tightened around her, and in the next, she felt him bolt. His voice came out as a strained whisper. "They're close. I can hear them. We aren’t progressing much.” A knot formed in Seraphine’s stomach. She couldn’t lose him now—not when he was this close, not when she had finally begun to break ground toward the ideal of love after years alone. All of a sudden she heard everything: trucks coming, the low hum of their engines in the distance. But it grew louder, a familiar, menacing rumble. She glanced back over her shoulder, but the trees had closed in behind them on the trail. “Shit,” she said, hissing under her breath. They needed shelter. Somewhere they could regroup. A clearing opened up in front of him, beyond a dense thicket of trees. The sun set like a golden sickle behind the trees, with pale fingers of evening and ghoulish shadows spreading on the ground. Which had been just the place to make a stand. She forged on, her legs on fire, her mind whirling. She did not know what they might do next. She had been no tactician, no warrior. She was a healer, a woman who’d hidden her true self from the world for years. And now her world had been dusted, her secrets exposed in the most violent way possible. Seraphine limped into the clearing and dropped to her knees. Ash suckled his agony into her; it was a battle to hover, but he was running out of strength. “I’m sorry,” she told me, her eyes brimming with tears. “I didn’t want any of this to happen.” “Seraphine…” Ash’s voice had dropped to a whisper as his hand reached for hers. His skin touched hers, warm yet fragile. "We… we’ll get through this." Then the sound of rustling leaves behind her broke the moment. She turned, and her instincts kicked in. When extended, her claws were ready while her wolf jutted beneath her skin in preparation to strike. Shapes began to form ahead through the dense trees. Men in black tactical gear are moving fast, guns drawn, searching the clearing. At least five others, and Seraphine knew they wouldn’t think twice to squeeze the trigger. Finally, she pulled herself away from the wall and turned to run, not knowing where. They were pros. And they didn’t know who they were dealing with. Her heart pounded in her chest, her blood vessels filled to capacity with adrenaline. At that moment, Ash’s voice thundered out. "Run!" he screamed. "Go!" In that instant, Seraphine debated whether to fight back or defend him. The urgency in his voice jolted her out of her stupor, however. Not here, stay here, she said, too low, dangerously low. Ash’s eyes widened. "No. I’m not leaving you." "You have to!" she growled. "Get to safety. I’ll hold them off." Giving the ground behind herself one last look, Seraphine turned and took off toward the approaching operatives; her feet were flying faster than human feet, no human body, could ever hope to achieve. Skin stretched and filled with the bestial power of her bloodline as her teeth sharpened and filled her mouth, the beast within her roaring up and out. She was not just Seraphine Wolfe, gifted surgeon, the healer, anymore. She was the predator, the beast. Her claws unfurled to their full extent, and her senses grew keen, near agony. She could hear her enemies’ whispers before they spoke, could feel the rhythm of their hearts, could smell the fear in their blood. The first man had raised his gun to point it at her, and before he could pull the trigger, Seraphine leaped, her claws sinking deep into the back of his throat, tearing through soft tissue and bone. He fell on his back screaming, his body thrashing as his blood poured out from around his neck. The others did not wait. Gunfire roared every which way, bullets cracking through the air like thunder. Seraphine a blurring heartbeat, this way and that, avoid the onslaught, strike, then rend her foes as if they were gewks of paper. She sliced one man across his chest, disarming him in one sweep. He managed to fall back, but she was on him again, her claws ripping across his ribs and spilling his blood to the ground. A second man tried to brace, but Seraphine was already in his face, her fangs embedding into the collar of his neck, tearing into the soft meat of him with a gross crunch. He didn’t even have enough time to scream. But in her wild abandon, she somehow managed to avoid the last operative. He snuck up behind her, pulling a silver knife out of his belt. There had been no time for her to react when the blade plunged once more deep into her left side, slicing through ribs. The sound tore from her, jagged, agony-wracked. Blood poured from the wound, soaking the earth at her feet. When her vision failed her and the world spun around her. But the wolf inside of her was vicious. The pain only fed her anger. Seraphine growled and then whirled, claws ripping through the man’s chest in one motion. He fell to the ground, eyes darting with disbelief. The glade was dead silent. Seraphine crossed over the corpses of the men, her coat spattered with their blood, breathing ragged and exhausted. She was hurt and bleeding but alive. She scanned the trees, eyes searching for any sign of Ash. Her pulse was beginning to race. There. A faint heartbeat. Dim, but there, nonetheless. With a growl and a deep breath, Seraphine stood, hand to her side. She staggered closer to the trees, to Ash, praying it was not too late. She found him. His body grew limp, but when he felt her there, his eyes opened, aglow. “Seraphine,” he said in barely a whisper. "You… you did it." But as she knelt beside him, cradling his head in her lap, she knew it. In the background, the faraway glitter of headlights. The reinforcements had been there. And this time they weren’t going to shoot themselves in the foot. The hunt had only just begun.