Greykin Valley

| 50 | Don't Look Back

Or...did he?

He looked at Wilson and frowned. "I—"

A loud clang came from the silver bars, making Jackson flinch, and his heart skip a beat. He sharply turned his head to look over there, as did everyone else, and when he saw six of Kane's men—one of which was Ellis—he tensed up and shivered in fear, slowly climbing to his feet.

Wilson snatched Jackson's hand, and when Jackson looked back at him, he desperately said, "You gotta make it. Don't stop...for anything."

Jackson's body went stiff. He was so anxious that it hurt, and when he turned his head and set his eyes on the guards again, he felt like he was going to be sick.

"You ready to tell us where the rest of your pack is?" Ellis asked Damon.

The Alpha, who stood in front of his grouped-up pack, snarled and scowled at the black-haired man. "I don't know where the fuck they are."

Ellis scoffed and glanced at the other guards. "Take the other bitch."

Rachel shuddered and hid behind Wesley.

The guards cocked their guns while one of them started unlocking the cage.

Jackson clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he tried to prepare himself.

The bars unlocked, and the guards pointed their guns at the pack.

The first guard stepped into the cage, and the others cautiously followed. And once Ellis stepped in, Damon's glower turned into a determined scowl.

It all happened so fast.

Damon lunged at Ellis and grabbed his throat.

Tokala, Wesley, Brando, Ezhno, and Leon grabbed the other guards.

And Sebastien shoved Jackson. "Go!" he yelled.

Jackson ran for it. He bolted out of the cage, and when he heard gunfire and snarls, he wanted to look back. But he knew that he had to keep going.

He veered left once he was out and set his eyes on a pathway which led up the side of the arena. The edges were gated off with silver bars, but a door was open, so he sprinted towards it.

Wolf howls and frantic voices filled the air.

More of Kane's men were coming.

But that was when Damon appeared at his side and said, "Keep going. We've got you." He cocked his rifle and ran ahead.

Jackson's racing heart beat faster with every step, but knowing that Damon and the pack were with him gave him hope.

When they reached the top of the sloped path, Jackson spotted a doorway, where several wolves flowed out from. Panic gripped him tightly, but he didn't freeze. His packmates raced ahead with Damon, firing at the wolves, clearing a path for him. And Jackson wasn't going to waste it.

While his packmates fought Kane's men, Jackson hurried into the doorway and followed the narrow passage. He eventually saw light, and when he emerged, he found himself in a camp. There were at least twenty men gearing up a few meters ahead, so he dived behind a tent and waited.

"Come on!" someone yelled.

"Don't let them get away!" another man shouted.

Jackson sat there, his body trembling, his breaths stifled; he watched the armed group rush down into the passage, followed by several snarling wolves. There were so many of them. If he could find the inimă, then maybe he could help. It had to be around here somewhere. It.... No. He couldn't deviate. Damon and his pack gave him this chance to run so that he could come back with help. He didn't want to waste it by attempting to save everyone now.

As much as he didn't want to leave—as much as it hurt knowing he was leaving behind the man he loved and the man who was like a brother to him, he had to go.

His throat tightened, and his legs felt numb. But he couldn't let his anxiety devour him. He looked over his shoulder, and far across what looked like a very old, snow-covered ruin was the tree line. He had to get to the forest.

But what about the silver collar around his neck? Should he try to find the key so that he could take it off? If he could take his wolf or demon form, he'd be able to get to the Venaticus so much faster.

No, he couldn't risk searching around for a key.

What about the inimă? If he could locate it—even call it to him—then once he was far from here, he'd use it to break the collar. However, he didn't want to sit there for too long. So, he closed his eyes and concentrated as best he could, but the nearby gunfire, snarling wolves, and yelling voices was keeping him from being able to dismiss his angst for even a moment. What if Damon was hurt? What if Wilson was hurt? Or...worse.

He couldn't think about it. He had to find the inimă.

But he heard footsteps.

Voices.

Someone was coming.

His heart beat so fast that he felt it might burst out of his chest.

He couldn't stay here.

He had to get to the trees.

Jackson watched from behind the tent as Kane approached the passage. But then he stopped and frowned skeptically. Jackson leaned back, holding his eyes shut, terrified that he might have been seen.

But no one grabbed him...and the footsteps faded into the tunnel.

He wanted to let out a sigh of relief, but he wouldn't risk making a single sound. Had the collar around his neck prevented Kane from detecting him? Silver obscured Caeleste senses, right?

There wasn't time to think about it. He was just glad that he hadn't been caught.

His body felt stiff, but he peered around the tent, searching for wolves or guards. But no one was there. So, he got up...and he ran. He ran, and ran, and ran, keeping his eyes on the trees, focusing on his mission. Everyone was relying on him, and he wasn't going to fail them.

He crossed the camp, climbed over the eroded, icy wall, and sprinted through the ruins of a temple. Once he leapt over the final crumbled wall, he reached the treeline. He wanted to stop and look back; maybe someone else had made it out and would follow to help him. But he knew no one was coming. They'd stayed back so he could escape. And no matter how much it hurt him to leave them behind, staying or trying to be a hero would get someone if not everyone killed.

Jackson had to get back to Silverlake, and he'd not rest until he did.

But someone saw him.

A bony, beaten brown wolf skidded to a halt when he did, kicking snow towards each other as their sights locked. The wolf looked just as petrified as Jackson felt. It shivered and gawped at him like a deer in headlights, panting...and then it looked around frantically, but it didn't howl or whimper. It looked...conflicted.

Jackson didn't know how to tell a Beta from an Omega, but if he had to guess—keeping Julian's stories of Kane's pack in mind—he'd say that he was looking at a poor, mistreated Omega. It didn't seem to want to attack; maybe it was too afraid or waiting for backup to come. And Jackson didn't want to hurt it, but...he couldn't let it stop him. He had to go. He had to do whatever was necessary to get to Silverlake.

But...the Omega started backing off. It looked around again—no one else was coming. And then it looked into the forest, set its hazel eyes back on Jackson, and then gestured towards the woods with its head.

Was it letting him go?

He wasn't going to ask. Jackson darted into the woods, running as fast as his aching legs would carry him. But the further away he got, the heavier his heart felt. He didn't know what happened to the pack once he left that tunnel. He didn't know what happened to Damon or Wilson. They could be hurt. They could be.... No. He didn't want to think about it. He had to run. He had to focus.

It was all down to him now.

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