Chapter 4: Unrelenting Fears

Jeremy’s POV: The sight of Olivera shaking violently, gasping for air, her body unable to stop convulsing, made my heart race with an unbearable weight of fear. Her breaths were ragged, and her nails dug into my arm as she sought support. “Where are your drugs?” I asked, my voice thick with panic as I fumbled through her pockets, desperate for something—anything—that would ease her pain. But she didn’t respond. Her eyes were wide open, but vacant, and her body continued to tremble uncontrollably. She was slipping away from me, retreating into that dark, suffocating place her seizures always took her, and I couldn’t pull her back. Not like this. “Vera, please! Don’t leave me like this. Do you want me dead?” I said, attempting a feeble joke, hoping my voice would reach her, pull her back from the edge. It had worked before. My words sometimes dragged her out of the darkness, even if only for a moment. But this time, nothing. Her shaking didn’t stop. *Damn it.* “Hey!” a voice called out, and I looked up to see the man who had been leading us, now turning back, noticing that we had fallen behind. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he strode toward us, his boots making heavy thuds against the ground. “What’s going on? What’s wrong with her?” he asked, his gaze shifting to Olivera’s trembling form. His voice, though stern, held a hint of confusion. “She—she’s having a seizure. I can’t find her medication,” I answered hurriedly, still holding onto her as she slumped in my arms, her body weakening. “Seizure? What’s wrong with her?” the man asked, tilting his head as if trying to understand why a werewolf, of all beings, would suffer from such a human affliction. “She’s wolfless,” I said softly, watching as realization dawned on his face. His eyes widened, just for a moment, before returning to their usual guarded expression. “Wolfless? And she has seizures too? Damn, that’s unfortunate,” he muttered, looking down at her with something resembling pity. I nodded silently, my jaw clenched. There was nothing more I could say. Olivera’s condition was something neither of us could fully explain. It had started when she was just ten years old—these unpredictable, relentless seizures that left her weak and vulnerable. No healer, no potion, no ritual had ever been able to rid her of them. And then, at eighteen, she’d discovered she was wolfless, compounding her pain with the cruel reality of our world. It was a curse no one could lift. Her family, though kind in their way, had drifted. They had become resigned, distant. Her younger sister, Lisa, was now the golden child, while Olivera was often left to fend for herself. It wasn’t fair, but what in this life was? “You two shouldn’t have been wandering near our lands,” the man said, crossing his arms, his eyes still fixed on Olivera. “What were you doing here?” “We weren’t trying to. We were running—our pack was attacked, and we didn’t realize we crossed into your territory,” I said, hoping the truth would buy us some mercy. “Attacked?” His eyes narrowed further. “What’s the name of your pack?” I hesitated. I couldn’t tell him the whole truth. If he knew we were rogues, that we had left our former pack behind to escape its cruelty, it might lead to worse consequences. But lying wouldn’t help either. He was no fool. “Red Moon Pack,” I answered finally, watching for his reaction. His expression didn’t change much, but I could tell he’d heard of it. Everyone had. “Red Moon, huh? I see…” He nodded slowly, his gaze shifting back to me. “You’re rogues, aren’t you?” I flinched at the word. It carried so much weight, so much judgment. Rogues were seen as traitors, outsiders—wolves who had no loyalty, no pack, no home. But that wasn’t who we were. We had left to survive, not to betray. “Yes, we left,” I admitted, my voice low. “We couldn’t stay under our Alpha’s rule any longer.” The man sighed, shaking his head. “I know the stories. Your Alpha has made a name for himself, and not in a good way. But that doesn’t mean you’re safe here.” He paused, glancing around as if making sure no one else was listening. “I can’t promise anything better for you in this pack.” My stomach dropped. What did that mean? Were we stepping into another nightmare? Was there no escape from this hell? “Wait,” I called out as he turned to leave, panic swelling in my chest. “What’s the name of this pack?” He stopped, turning back to face me with a knowing smirk. “You really don’t know, do you?” “No,” I answered, my voice barely above a whisper, fear creeping into my words. “Tell me.” “The Dark Shadows Pack,” he said simply, before turning and walking away. “When she wakes up, follow the path. You’ll find the rest of us in the open field.” My heart sank. The *Dark Shadows Pack*. I had feared those words. The stories we’d heard—about their ruthless Alpha, their brutal ways—made our previous pack seem like a paradise in comparison. This place was dangerous. Worse than we could have imagined. “I heard him,” Olivera muttered weakly, her voice trembling as she finally stirred in my arms. She had been awake long enough to hear the worst of it. “Olivera,” I whispered, trying to soothe her, but the fear in her eyes told me she already knew what was coming. “We’re going to die,” she said, her voice shaking along with her body as she clutched my arm. “No, we’re not,” I replied, trying to sound braver than I felt. But the truth was, I didn’t know what was waiting for us beyond that narrow path. All I knew was that we had to keep moving. We had to survive. Slowly, I helped her to her feet, her body still weak but her seizures finally stopped. We had no choice but to keep going, to follow the man’s directions and pray that we could make it through whatever was coming. As we started down the path, Olivera’s voice came softly beside me. “Do you really think we’ll live past a week here?” I swallowed hard, my heart heavy with uncertainty. “Yes, we will,” I said, though the words felt like a lie. Neither of us believed it, but it was the only hope we had left.