The Return of the Fallen Luna: Rise of the Heiress-Chapter 18 Running Away

And just like that... she was out.

The moment the pack community fell behind her, Ashley felt the crushing weight on her chest loosen. She exhaled sharply, a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, her grip on the wheel tightening as a fragile sense of relief washed over her.

But it didn’t last.

Because she wasn’t safe yet.

She was still inside Nathan’s territory.

And until she crossed that invisible line, she couldn’t afford to relax, not even for a second.

Ashley drove for half an hour along a dirt road flanked by towering pine trees. Werewolves preferred the wild, so their pack was built deep in the forest, near rivers and lakes, far from human reach.

Hidden from ordinary eyes, vast stretches of wilderness belonged not to humans but to werewolves and other supernaturals, their societies thriving in silence. But an ancient pact between their ancestors and humanity drew a firm boundary between the two worlds, enforced by human peacekeepers who worked to erase any trace of the supernatural.

Because history had already proven what would happen if that line was crossed, which would end up in brutal war, where one side would seek to wipe out the other.

Those stories about vampires in novels? Real. The wars between werewolves and vampires? Real too. Even the human hunters, backed by Vatican priests, who once sought to purge the supernatural from existence... all of it had happened.

But those wars brought nothing but ruin. An entire population was driven to the brink, losses so severe that even humans began to fear total annihilation. They were weaker than vampires and shifters, that much was undeniable, but humans multiplied faster, and their numbers alone made them dangerous.

More than that, they had something the others didn’t: the ability to create, to innovate, to weaponize. Their ancestors had already proven it, crafting weapons capable of mass destruction.

That was why, despite their physical weakness, humans were never truly helpless, and why no supernatural race ever dared to underestimate them again.

Like humans, the supernatural world had its own hierarchy and government, called the Elder Council and Royal Families that ruled each race. But decades ago, the werewolves’ Royal Family was wiped out, along with their strongest allies. No one knew who did it, only that their fall left the race exposed, especially to their oldest enemies, the vampires. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

With the throne empty, ambition spread. Powerful packs began vying to rise above the rest, each seeking to establish a new Royal bloodline. But in a world where strength dictated authority, only the most dominant could claim the title of Alpha King, and none had succeeded in uniting them all.

Despite this instability, werewolves and other shifters still controlled vast territories, far more than humans ever realized. To the outside world, it looked like humanity owned the land, but there were places civilians could never enter, which were usually called the "protected zones," that the human government quietly restricted.

Not for conservation, but because those lands belonged to supernatural races. Crossing into them wasn’t trespassing.

It was a death sentence.

And even human authorities couldn’t interfere, because those boundaries were sealed by ancient treaties, binding every race to a fragile, enforced peace.

As one of the fastest-rising packs, Nathan’s territory stretched across one of the largest and most aggressively expanding regions in the country. To get out of it, Ashley would have to drive for at least four hours without stopping, and that was just to cross a single territory among many.

With land that vast under his control, tracking down any hidden dungeons or safehouses he owned would be nearly impossible.

It would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.

Beyond its sheer size, Nathan’s territory was tightly controlled. Warriors were constantly dispatched to patrol and monitor the borders, ensuring nothing slipped through. Ironically, Nathan himself had once buried Ashley in so much work, especially assignments tied to territorial defense, that she had learned these systems inside out, leaving her no time to even think about her mother.

Because despite the treaties between humans, shifters, and other supernaturals, danger still lurked in the margins.

Rogues.

They were werewolves cast out of their packs, exiled for crimes that couldn’t be forgiven but didn’t warrant execution. Packless and alone, they slowly lost themselves. Werewolves were social by nature, and isolation twisted them, stripping away reason until only their beastly side remained. Most tried to seek refuge in other territories, but their reputations followed them. No pack wanted the risk. No one offered them sanctuary.

Over time, they were avoided like a disease.

They lived in the wild, their minds deteriorating, their bodies carrying a stench of decay that marked them unmistakably, something foul and clinging, as if rot had seeped into their skin. Even if they were accepted somewhere, that stain took time to fade. Few thought it was worth the trouble.

And so, rejection became a cycle. Most rogues weren’t minor offenders; they had crossed the wrong people, angered the wrong power. Other packs would rather turn them away than invite conflict, effectively blacklisting them from ever belonging again.

Left with nothing, they snapped.

Driven by hunger and madness, rogues began to band together, forming unstable groups that roamed the outskirts of territories. They attacked without pattern, without restraint, and became reckless, frenzied, and utterly indifferent to their own survival. Bloodthirsty and unpredictable, they became one of the most dangerous threats lurking beyond the fragile peace.

And every clash with them came at a cost, because even trained warriors struggled against enemies who no longer feared death.

The work was tedious and relentless, which was why Nathan’s core members handled it themselves, reviewing border patrol reports, tracking rogue attack patterns, then constantly adjusting patrol routes, shifts, and coverage based on the latest data. It was a system that never stayed still.

And for the past three weeks, Ashley had been buried in it.

She knew the schedules, the blind spots, the patrol rotations, who moved where, and when. Right now, that knowledge was the only thing keeping her ahead, guiding her through the territory without running straight into them.

At least, that had been the plan.

Fortunately, she had a masking spray, something she’d originally bought to surprise Nathan after the mating ceremony. The irony stung, considering that this item only helped her uncover his plan to publicly destroy her instead.

Now, that same spray had a different purpose. It was no longer a part of her surprise, but her only safeguard, something to blur her scent and slip past the border patrols unnoticed.

But because of her wound. The faint scent of blood clung to her, sharp and dangerous, something no wolf would miss.

After remembering this crucial part, Ashley immediately pulled the car over to the side of the road and searched through it until she found the first aid kit. Patrol vehicles were always stocked with one; it was standard.

Although werewolves have the ability to heal fast, but injuries from wolfsbane or silver could suppress their healing entirely, forcing them to rely on bandages and medicine like anyone else.

And right now, she couldn’t afford to leave even the slightest trace of herself behind.