I ran.

The temple corridors twisted like veins running through the earth. My breath came in short, sharp bursts, my pulse hammering in my ears like war drums. While my wolf was still caged under the effect of that spell, I could feel the magic wearing thin in my limbs. I just had to keep moving. Just had to make it outside.

Then the scent hit me. The crisp, metallic tang of the Enchanted River.

Panic gripped my chest like a vice. I didn’t know how far they had taken me from Nightclaw territory, or how deep I was in enemy territory. The river was the final boundary, the one thing that had kept wolves and witches from outright destroying each other over the centuries. And now, I was on the wrong side of it.

As I reached the fork in the corridor, my feet pounded on the cold stone floor. My instincts screamed at me to turn left, to run toward the scent of the river, because where there was water, there was escape.

I had heard stories about the river my entire life. A divine punishment. A living curse. The last gift of the Moon Goddess before she abandoned us in our hatred. It had been conjured centuries ago at the peak of the war between wolves and witches, meant to separate us before we burned the world to the ground. No one crossed it. No one survived it.

And yet, a traitorous thought tugged at the back of my mind: I survived it once.

I forced the thought away. That had been a fluke. A mistake. A moment of madness that should have killed me.

A sharp cry echoed behind me. Voices. Footsteps. They were right behind me and had not taken me down with their stupid magic. My legs burned as I pushed myself faster, twisting through the endless maze of tunnels. There had to be a way out.

Pale and silver light bled through the cracks in an archway ahead. An exit.

I didn’t hesitate. I threw myself toward it, half-stumbling as I finally burst into open air, the scent of muddy earth and rushing water slamming into me. The temple had been built into the cliffs. Below, far too close for comfort, the Enchanted River bubbled in violent, midnight swirls.

I barely had time to register it before I heard the footsteps closing in. I turned sharply, heart hammering. I could fight, if my strength wasn’t depleted. I could outrun all of them if my wolf had been awake, or if there had been anywhere left to go. Instead, I was trapped between a sheer drop into cursed water and the inevitability of capture.

And then that damn witch appeared again.

He stood in the archway, his ember-lit gaze unreadable. He wasn’t winded or panicked like he’d been chasing me. If anything, he looked bored, as if he had expected this outcome, and had been waiting for me to make this exact move.

My panic twisted into frustration. “Move,” I told him.

He didn’t.

The river roared below me, the wind carrying the scent of its primordial magic like a warning. Almost as if it knew what I was thinking. Wolves that crossed never returned. Those who entered never resurfaced. That was the law, the curse, the irrefutable truth written into the foundation of Anarion. But if that were true, how had those witches made it across unscathed?

Magic? That would make sense, witches had spells for everything. But even their power had limits, boundaries that nature refused to bend for. The river was a force that had existed longer than either of our kinds. It punished trespassers with no regard for blood or power.

So how had they made it across? And worse—how had they taken me with them?

A sick feeling twisted in my gut. Either the witches had discovered something no one else had, or the river had allowed them passage. And I wasn’t sure which possibility terrified me more.

I clenched my fists. “What, are you here to kill me? Save yourself the trouble?”

He sighed, tilting his head. “I don’t need to kill you.”

I scowled. “Because your precious territory would do it for you?”

A flicker of a thought crossed his face. “Because left to you, you’ll kill yourself first,” was all he said.

My breath hitched, and then my gaze turned to the river, to the mysterious glow that coated its surface. He wasn’t wrong. I had no way of knowing if I’d survive a second crossing. But I also knew one thing: I wasn’t going back with him.

He must have seen the decision solidify in my eyes, because his expression darkened. “Don’t.”

I smiled grimly. “Try and stop me.”

And then I jumped.

The moment I hit the water, the world went silent. There was no up, no down, only the pressure of the river wrapping around me, thick as oil, suffocating as a burial shroud. My lungs burned, but the pain was muted under the overpowering hum of its embrace.

The river didn’t fight me or try to swallow me the way the stories had said it would. Instead, it coiled around me like a whisper, threading through my veins, filling the spaces between my bones with the Moon Goddess’s touch.

Power rushed through me in pulses, and it was electric, as if the river itself was reading me, deciding what to do with me. My thoughts scattered, fading into the current.

Let me go. Let me live.

And just like that, I was free.

I broke the surface with a gasp, dragging air into my starved lungs. I was alive, even though my limbs felt heavy, like they were weighted down by unseen pressure.

Odd thing that river had let me go. Again.

I forced myself to crawl to the riverbank, limbs trembling, exhaustion dragging at me like unseen hands. I had to keep going. But the moment I pulled myself onto dry land, my body betrayed me. A wave of exhaustion so deep and foreign crashed over me, sinking into my bones, dragging me into the dirt like invisible chains. My limbs ached, my breath came in shallow gasps, and every movement felt like wading through thick fog.

I forced myself onto my hands and knees, the damp earth clinging to my fingers, my vision swimming. Move. Just move. I dug my nails into the ground, pushing against the crushing force pressing down on me.

Was it the spell or the river?

My veins stung from being submerged in the river. I hadn’t completely escaped the river’s haunting. Each heartbeat felt out of place inside of me, like it wasn’t really mine any more. Compared to my first fall, this was so much worse.

I swallowed hard and willed my shaking legs to cooperate, pushing forward inch by inch. The trees swayed overhead as they watched my slow, pathetic escape. The scent of damp moss and pine filled my nose. I couldn’t be that far off from Nightclaw territory.

It was either get close enough, so the patrol could find me, or pass out cold here and freeze to death.

My mind went to Marrick, Lyra, and goddess help me, Damien too.

It spurred me on through the haze of exhaustion. I stumbled, catching myself against a tree, my nails digging into the bark. Every part of me wanted to collapse, to let the soil take me, to close my eyes and forget the nightmare that had led me here.

But I had survived the river. Again, and I couldn’t let that be for nothing.

Another step. Another. I kept moving even though everything was blurred, and my body screamed in protest.

Then I heard the unmistakable snap of a twig, and the steady rustle of someone moving through the underbrush. I barely had time to react before strong arms caught me, solid as iron, the scent of earth and steel filling my senses. The sudden jolt to my senses was enough to snap my eyes open, and I found myself staring up at a face that was all sharp angles and a deep frown. Damien.

“Luna,” he said gruffly, simply out of habit, as his grey eyes swept over me.

The relief nearly knocked me over again, but he held me steady.

His chest rumbled with a low exhale, his hold tightening slightly. “You look like hell.”

A weak laugh scraped out of me. “Feel worse.”

He huffed, shifting me so he could scoop me up effortlessly. “Stubborn idiot,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than me. “You always have to make things difficult.”

I wanted to argue. To insist I could walk. But my body had other plans. My head lolled against his shoulder, the exhaustion finally dragging me under. The last thing I felt was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my ear as he carried me home.