Hours had passed at Elmwood.

The light streaming through the stained glass had slowly faded and died, leaving behind the soft glow of moonlight that skimmed over the furniture with a pale blue chill. Hannah and Dylan both watched the windows with fevered eyes, waiting for the sounds of the pack to die down and the guards to settle into their nightly routines.

“Won't be long now,” Dylan said in a terse whisper, his fists clenching and unclenching nervously.

Hannah merely grunted. Her anger still rippled under the surface, held in check only by the knowledge that she'd never stand a chance of escaping alive without Dylan's cooperation.

Eventually the distant rumblings of everyday life lessened, replaced by the lonely call of a solitary owl, nestled in the grove of trees that surrounded the pack house. Even the guards had abandoned their vigil in favour of a hot meal and a rowdy game of cards.

Dylan carefully turned the handle of the door, edging it open inch by inch to prevent the ancient hinges from giving them away. Cautiously he stuck his head through the gap. “It's clear,” he announced in a muffled whisper. “let's go.”

He led her out into a dimly lit corridor that lacked any signs of modern decoration, keeping one eye on the soft glow of light emanating from a partially open doorway on the far side. A rumble of jovial voices drifted towards them, accompanied by a mouth-watering smell.

Hannah inhaled, filling her lungs with the scent of roast chicken, herbs, garlic and some sort of freshly baked bread. She regretted it almost immediately as the sharp pain in her stomach reminded her she hadn't eaten a solid meal for far too long. She grimaced as she realised her level of trust towards the mercenaries had far exceeded the trust she felt towards her own family. At least with Fenrik she hadn't been afraid to eat the food.

To her consternation, instead of heading away from the voices Dylan moved towards them, stopped only a few doors down, beckoning her to follow. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she watched him open the door, wincing as it creaked in protest. Dylan flinched, his eyes darting back towards the chink of light down the hall as he pulled her swiftly inside, latching the door firmly behind them. She couldn't make out his face in the gloom, but the barely audible sigh of relief spoke volumes.

As she waited for her eyes to readjust to the new darkness, Hannah took note of her surroundings, her eyes widening with disbelief.

The bathroom was large enough to rival the en-suite she'd enjoyed back at the Blackridge pack. Oversized tiles stretched from floor to ceiling and a line of sinks fixed to one wall, each with a rail for fresh, fluffy towels underneath the shallow bowls and a curved mirror set in the tiles above.

In the dim light of the window she caught sight of her own reflection, flushed with adrenaline – loose tendrils of unkempt red hair plastered themselves to her pale skin, hiding the streaks of accompanying dirt, and her crumpled clothes hung from her delicate frame riddled with stains. Her nose wrinkled, Sky would not be impressed.

One whole corner was taken up by sunken bath, big enough to fit at least three of her with room to spare. Her desire to bathe momentarily rivalling her desire to eat, she stared at it longingly. Not now. Shaking her head as common sense prevailed, her eyes turned to Dylan’s silhouette, her voice a horse but venomous whisper.

“What are you doing? Do you want to get caught?” She cast frantic eyes around the room. “There's no way out!”

Wincing at her accusation, Dylan raised his hand in a pacifying gesture, the corner of his lip twisted in a wry smile. “Actually, there is.” He beckoned her towards the single window, stained glass and an almost exact match to the three in the bedroom. Turning away from her, his fingers moved deftly around the seal holding the large panels in place. “You disappeared,” he murmured vaguely as he worked. “When we were here... before.”

Oh yes, the last time you kidnapped me, she thought bitterly, irritation rising in her throat at his continued avoidance of the truth. She swallowed it with some difficulty, her eyes flicking between the shadowed doorway and the pale moonlight highlighting his fingers as he manipulated the frame. “What do you mean, disappeared?”

He looked up. “Disappeared. Vanished...” he trailed off as though he couldn't find the right word. “Despite the suppressant, the drug we used to... well, you know... it wasn't strong enough. One night you woke up and – ”

“I think the word you're looking for is escaped,” she pointed out dryly.

He nodded slowly, his eyes refusing to meet her accusing gaze, then resumed tugging at the thick sealant around the window frame. “Don’t be fooled by the trees outside. It's not the forest you’re seeing, more like a private copse that surrounds the backend of the pack house. This is the quickest route to the upper village that surrounds it.” He paused, a thoughtful look on his boyish face. “Actually, it's a really clever design, the architect wanted to make sure – "

“Look,” Hannah interrupted. “I'm all for the little details – "

They both froze simultaneously, their eyes locked on the door behind them. A guard clattered past outside, his footsteps obnoxiously loud on the wooden floorboards.

Surprise flickered across Dylan's face as he realised she’d sensed the danger before him and Hannah waited until the guard was completely out of earshot before continuing in a hurried whisper. " – But, on this occasion, I don't suppose you could get to the point, could you?"

He was staring at her, his brow pulled together as he scanned her face, only registering that she'd spoken when she jabbed him in the arm impatiently. He blinked and turned back to the window, giving the seal a couple of hard tugs. “This bathroom is for guests only – ” he grunted. “ – and Elmwood is lacking in company most of the time, so it's rarely used.”

There was a muffled pop as the suction holding the left seal in place finally gave up the fight, and he let out a relieved sigh of satisfaction. “Funny, It never occurred to us to check this room at first,” He offered her a side-long look. “Who comes to a bathroom to escape, right?

Her cheeks reddened and she was forced to swallow the apology that came automatically to her lips.

His lips twitched again. “So, it took us a while before we found this.”

To Hannah's surprise, with the seal gone Dylan was able to tilt and lift the entire glass panel out of the frame, exposing the room to a cold breeze that wafted through the hole he'd created. Thanks to the rotting wood and minimal maintenance, the seal had literally been the only thing holding the glass in place. “And no, before you ask, I don't know how you discovered it either.” He placed the panel carefully to one side. “Luckily for us,” he murmured, “Elmwood skimps on its repairs... Shall we?”

Hannah needed no further encouragement.

It quickly became clear that, if she’d assumed their escape would become easier once they found their way out of the pack house, she was wrong. The Elmwood houses weren't spread out, like the sprawling houses in Blackridge. Packed closely together, they formed a confusing network of side streets and external corridors that, not only followed no clear main road, but seemed to randomly turn back on themselves without either warning or reason.

Blake hadn't revealed much about the layout of the upper village, but the deceptively simple route they'd used to reach the pack house was far too exposed and dangerous for the escapees to attempt .

Too afraid to speak for fear of detection, all Hannah could do was follow Dylan as he slipped from one street to the next, all of which attempted to lead them back towards the central square they were trying to avoid. There seemed no end to the labyrinth of narrow passages and Hannah's anxiety increased to new heights with every whisper of sound, the harsh rasp of each breath overloud in her ears, her heart leaping with every footstep that wasn't her own.

After the fifth blind turn, where her stomach had lunged into her throat as nothing but sheer dumb luck helped them avoid detection, she’d had enough and came to an abrupt halt, her feet throbbing on the uneven cobblestone.

In the shadow of a gabled doorway, a tangle of ivy framed a small fountain in the shape of a howling wolf. The intricately carved muzzle released a musical cascade of water down the wall and into a small trough, the water flowing back under the wall, presumably to a pool in the courtyard beyond. She stared suspiciously at it, the stone carapace irritatingly familiar.

You've got to be kidding me.

“Hannah?” Dylan protested in a barely audible hiss as she made a bee line for the water. “We have to keep moving.”

She waited for him to catch up before retaliating, relying on the gurgle of the fountain to drown out her strident protest. “Moving where, Dylan? Do you actually know the route out?” Dylan began to nod his head and she thrust her hand towards the merrily cascading water. “We've passed this fountain twice already!”

He peered at the howling wolf, his eyes betraying his uncertainty. “Actually, I think there's several of these scattered around the village...” His fingers strayed upwards to his hair, nails scratching at his scalp as he turned to look back the way they came and his brow furrowed. “Maybe... maybe we should have turned right instead of left back there?”

Hannah supressed the sudden and overwhelming urge to drown him in the fountain. “In other words, we're lost.”

“We're not lost,” Dylan muttered defensively, his eyes darting up and down the narrow street. I know where we are... roughly. I’m just not sure how to get to where we need to be.”

“I assume Eleanor made it all the way out of the village when she – I mean, I escaped?”

He frowned. “Yes. Out the village and half-way to the border. We might never have found you, but then – ” He frowned, a puzzled note appearing in his voice. “ – You turned around and doubled back. Father intercepted you near the lower village. I still have no idea why you did that. If you'd just kept going South – ”

I'd have reached Blake's pack with my memories in tact. A question formed in the back of her mind, niggling at the wall separating her from her past... What –

A sudden glow in an upstairs window made them both jump, a silhouette passing sleepily by the halo of light. Hannah shrank further into the shadow of the gateway, her heart pounding.

“Okay, how about we figure that out after we get out of this maze?” Hannah suggested, a cold trickle of fear working its way down the back of her neck. Any moment now her uncle would discover she was missing, and then... “How did I get out last time?

Dylan’s frown deepened. “We can't do it that way,” he replied shortly, then bit back a curse. “The tree line is over there.” he pointed east. “There are about three streets and five courtyards between us and the edge of the village. Eleanor cut directly through in a straight line.” He glanced up at the jumble of rooftops all crisscrossing together above them and grimaced. “I know because I was the one that tracked her – your – scent.”

Hannah raised her eyes upwards, tracking the top of the solid stone wall some six foot above her. “How did I – " Of course, her wolf. How else could she have gotten this far on her own? Obviously there was no way she could traverse across a tiled roof, never mind make the leap from one group of houses to the next without her wolf. But... Consternation flickered across her face and, believing the argument to be settled, Dylan turned to lead her up towards the next passage.

He took several steps before realising she wasn't following. Her eyes were flicking between the wall and the nearby gate, and Dylan groaned internally as he recognised the set, determined expression that settled across her features. “Hannah – "

“We could wander through these streets for the rest of the night and still not make it out of here before dawn,” she cut him off, her words spilling out in an urgent whisper. “I might not be able to get up that high, but we could attempt to cut through some of these courtyards. At least this way we stand a chance at – ”

“We don't stand a chance because you haven't got a wolf!” he retorted, frustration raising the level of his voice even as she lowered hers.

“I know that, but you do,” Hannah argued, attempting to keep her voice calm and steady. “You can help me, you know you can.”

“And what if we’re seen? It would take seconds for them to alert the entire pack to our location.”

“Would it take less time if we turn another corner and bump into a patrol?” she countered.

Dylan wore the expression of a man who knew the futility of his argument, but couldn't quite bring himself to admit defeat. Stubbornly, he shook his head, his lips forming another objection.

Whatever argument that might have been was lost, drowned out when a bell began a mournful toll from somewhere over the rooftops – the deep, rhythmic cadence resonating through the upper village like a tidal wave of sound. Each boom vibrated through the thick stone walls, leaving them both in no doubt that every wolf within miles could hear its call.

The two escapees stared at each other in consternation.

"Did this happen last time?" Hannah asked, no longer able to keep her voice to a hushed whisper in an effort to be heard over the din.

"No, it did not," Dylan said, his words stilted and strained. His eyes darted across the street to a small gateway squashed between two, larger houses, his sharp eyes noticing the slight gap where it had failed to latch properly. "Come on, we've got to get off the street, something tells me we're about to get a lot of company."

He wasn't wrong. It took only seconds for the Elmwood wolves to respond to the warning bell and begin spilling out of their houses. This time, Amara would definitely not approve, Hannah thought as she peered through a crack in the gate at the milling, disorganised mass of bodies so close to their hiding place.

She-wolves in various states of undress ushered their sandy-eyed children out onto the cobbles, heading leeward towards the safe-houses, while bare-chested men fought against the river of bodies to head the opposite way, their claws half-extended as they called to one another – a steady stream of speculation flowing in both directions.

None of the wolves seemed to know the cause of the bells deep boom, and they lacked any sense of organisation, the odd few even attempting to return to their homes for frivolous items they'd left behind.

“Hannah!”

Dylan's frantic hiss caught her attention with only seconds to spare. In her distraction she'd missed the sudden shaft of light from the house, and moving faster than she thought herself capable, she squeezed behind a voluminous bush just as a family of wolves came tumbling out their house and into the courtyard.

Hidden deep within the waxy leaves, it was impossible to catch more than a few words from the bickering wolves as they passed. But she heard enough to grasp that the female was under the impression this was a drill, and was complaining stridently about being forced to get out of bed, from the sound of things she’d long since mastered the art of vapid complaining.

Hannah supressed a snort. It appeared socialites were the same no matter which pack they called home. The she-wolf's long-suffering mate responded only in a series of low growls as he attempted to corral her and their three pups out of the gate to join the chaos outside.

As the gate clicked behind them, Hannah slipped back out from her impromptu hiding place, sheer willpower alone holding down her panic. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Dylan reappeared beside her, no sound alerting her to his presence. “Now what?” she asked, trying hard to resist clinging to his arm. “Is this because of us? Do they know we're gone?”

“I don't think so,” Dylan moved to peer through the same crack in the gate. “The warning bell is only used if there's a breach at the borders.” His eyes shone bright in the darkness as he turned to look back at her thoughtfully. “Though it's inevitable now, I suppose.”

He looked back through the crack, the thoughtful expression slowly morphing into the shadow of an idea. “Okay, we'll do it your way. We can take advantage of the chaos. Some of them are bound to forget to secure their houses before fleeing, we can cut straight through.”

Stealth temporarily forgotten, the two runaways dashed from street to street, moving as fast as they dared, testing every gate they came across and taking full advantage of the shortcuts through courtyards and houses alike.

The intermittent moonlight flickered morosely as they made their way past another jumble of houses towards a courtyard Dylan knew would lead right to the edge of the village. Around them, the frantic scramble of a hundred bodies all pressed together like sardines in a tin as they bustled past the two outsiders, unnoticed in their frantic flight.

How they managed to remain unnoticed was anybody's guess. Perhaps it was the lack of warriors, who’s swift response to the bells had meant they'd long since abandoned the village to race to the front lines. More likely, Syrus's own need for secrecy had worked against him and the fleeing wolves simply assumed the strangers were supposed to be amongst them. A inadvertent camouflage of sparse information.

They made it all the way to the outer street before the crowd thinned. Leaving the chaos behind them, Dylan’s sense of caution returned. Separated from the crowds, the last stragglers began to pay more attention to the two strangers heading away from the safe houses. Fearful of unwanted questions, they ducked through another gate and out of sight of curious eyes. And not a moment too soon.

As suddenly as it had started, the peal of the bell stopped, the sound of silence deafening in its absence. Dylan froze, looking at Hannah with obvious dismay. As obnoxious as the bell had been, it had provided a small measure of cover for their escape. Now, everything would hinge on their ability to keep to the shadows.

In the wake of the sudden silence, snatches of a muted conversation drifted through the gaps in the stone wall, and Hannah pressed her eye against the narrow crack, scanning the almost empty street beyond.

An impatient exclamation led her to a heavy set warrior moving out of her line of sight, who continued to mutter to himself from further down the street. Trailing her gaze to the right, her eye fell on the subject of his complaints.