MasukSarah heard the front screen door open before she even reached the living room. Jasmine and Bella had already let themselves in, laughing loudly, tossing their hair like they owned the place.“Ugh, did you see what Paula was wearing at training? Like she rolled straight out of a charity bin.” “I swear half this pack still thinks flannel is a personality.”They cackled as they strutted in, talking over each other, feeding off the noise of their own cruelty.The old Sarah would have jumped right in. She would’ve sharpened the blade.Now? The words hit her ears like vomit.Jasmine spotted her first. “There she is!” she squealed. “Finally. We were starting to think you were hiding from us.”Bella nudged her. “You missed the best show at the training grounds. The little Luna-wannabe tripped over her own feet. The whole Gamma line saw it. Pathetic.”They waited for Sarah to laugh.She didn’t.Something flickered behind her eyes — not anger, not hesitation — recognition. The memory of an
The moon was high by the time the last lanterns dimmed and the laughter drifted away with the night breeze. The pack house slowly emptied, children carried sleep-heavy on their shoulders, little shoes dangling, frosting still on their cheeks.Storm had fallen asleep in Beth's arms before the final song even ended — his tiny hand still gripping the ribbon from one of his gifts. Blaise kissed his forehead before Beth carried him to our hummer. She would tuck him safely into his nursery wing for the night.I would ride back with Blaise on his bike.The music softened, drifting into low strings as the singer sang her last song. Blaise reached for my hand.“Come dance with me,” he said quietly.We stepped out beneath the string lights that still glowed above the lawn. The night air was warm, and the distant laughter faded until there was only us — swaying slowly beneath the silver wash of moonlight.I rested my head on his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arms c
The packhouse had never held so much color, so much laughter, or so much life.Lyra spent weeks planning every detail herself — not as Luna, but as a mother and grandmother reclaiming the years she was robbed of. Garlands of white and pale blue silk streamed from rafter to rafter, soft moonflowers and evergreen boughs braided together across the beams. Toddlers darted everywhere, giggling, half in costumes and half in frosting already.Storm didn’t walk in carried like something fragile. He marched through the doors holding his favorite wolf plushie by one ear, eyes enormous, awe rolling through him like thunder.“Appy birfday, Stom!” the toddlers chorused — some lisping, some yelling it like a war cry.The courtyard outside had been turned into a miniature fair. Real pony rides circled under strings of glowing lanterns, each pony braided in ribbons and bells. A shining carousel turned slow and proud near the orchard fence — Ryker’s gift, something he’d sworn was “temporary,” though
The mansion was quiet in the hush of evening light when I slipped down the hall toward my mother’s room, quietly pushing Storm in his stroller. He slept deeply, breath soft and steady, one tiny fist curled over his blanket. Their door stood half-open. I knocked gently.“Come in,” she said.Lyra sat upright in Dad’s four-poster bed beside the window, wrapped in her pale blue robe, her white hair spilling over her shoulders like moonlight made of living silk. She looked out across the pines as if she had been waiting for me, for her daughter.When I stepped inside, she turned, and her face warmed in a way I had no memory of, but my heart recognized instantly.“Come here,” she whispered, opening her arms.I crossed the room and leaned into her without hesitation — head to heart — breathing her in. She smelled of Lavender, honeysuckles, and the warmth of safety and home. The kind of belonging that makes the body remember what it never got to grow up having. Her hand settled at the back of
Sarah was in the kitchen slicing apples for her grandfather’s pie when Mara’s voice carried down the hallway.“Sarah… Lucas is here.”The knife paused mid-cut. She carefully put the chopped apples in a bowl and back into the fridge before going to meet him.When she saw him standing there, for a second, she couldn’t breathe. Not because she feared him — but because she never once let herself imagine she might see him alive and safe again. She wiped her palms on her jeans, smoothed her hair, and stepped into the living room.Lucas stood there, still in his football uniform, helmet tucked under one arm. Grass stains marked one knee of his pants, and his jersey was damp from practice. He looked out of place in the old house — young and golden.And yet… He fit.He turned when he heard her footsteps.For a moment, they both just stared. All those months of searching, all that panic in his voice the night she reached for him — relief hit him like a punch. Those amber-brown eyes went soft.
Chapter 106 Quiet Before the StormWeeks had passed….Not peacefully — but steadily. The mountain stayed quiet. The wards held. Thorn’s shield now covered the entire mountain, both of them like a second sky. Whatever waited beneath the earth had not tested it again.Life — strangely — resumed.Classes started back up, and campus felt… almost normal. The illusion of normal was its own kind of blessing.I pulled my bike into my usual spot and killed the engine. For a moment, I just sat there, helmet still on, hands resting on my thighs. The morning had that strange, too-still feeling — not bad, not threatening — just aware. Like the world had inhaled and was waiting to exhale.Beth pulled in right beside me, parking in her usual spot.She grabbed her helmet from her back seat and grinned. “Dad’s taking my car to the shop at noon. Can I ride home with you?”She held up her own helmet by the chin strap like proof she fully intended to claim a spot behind me, whether I said yes or no.I







