10. The Secret Beneath The Moon.

Rose’s POV

By the time I got to my mom’s house, it was already past 10 p.m. The streets were quiet, only the wind whispering through the trees. I stood outside the familiar gate, clutching my coat around me, my heart heavy with exhaustion.

The porch light flickered as if it recognized me, and for a second, I felt like a lost child again, coming home after a nightmare.

I knocked softly.

There was a pause, then footsteps...slow, careful. The door creaked open, and the warm, familiar scent of lavender and home drifted out.

“Rose?” My mom’s voice trembled, half disbelief, half relief. “Oh my goodness, baby, is that really you?”

Before I could answer, she pulled me into a hug so tight I nearly cried. Her arms...small but strong...wrapped around me, grounding me.

“Mom,” I whispered against her shoulder, “I missed you.”

She pulled back to look at me, her eyes shining. “What are you doing here at this hour? You should’ve called...I’d have picked you up!”

I smiled faintly. “I just… needed to be here.”

Her face softened, but I saw worry creeping behind her gentle expression. “Come in, sweetheart. You look exhausted.”

I stepped inside, taking in the cozy living room. Everything was just as I remembered...soft cream curtains, the smell of chamomile tea, the ticking wall clock that had survived years of storms. It was like the world outside couldn’t touch this place.

I sat on the couch, sinking into the old cushions, and exhaled. “Mom,” I said quietly, “I’m tired.”

She paused at the kitchen doorway, where she’d been pouring tea, and turned to look at me. “Tired? Of what, dear?”

“Of everything,” I whispered. “Work. People. My life.”

She set down the cup and came to sit beside me, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face. “Talk to me, Rose. What happened?”

I looked down at my hands. The words pressed against my chest, begging to come out...but I couldn’t tell her. Not about the wolves. Not about the vampires. Not about the Alpha whose touch still burned on my skin.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” I lied softly. “I’ll tell you… later. When I can.”

Her eyes searched mine for a moment longer, then she nodded and squeezed my hand. “Alright, my love. No pressure.”

We sat there in silence for a while, the ticking clock filling the space between us. Then, out of nowhere, I asked, “Mom… do you remember those bedtime stories you used to tell me when I was little?”

She smiled faintly. “About princesses and dragons?”

“No,” I said, my voice smaller. “The ones about… vampires. Werewolves.”

Her smile faltered.

For a second, something flickered in her eyes...fear, maybe, or shock...but it vanished as quickly as it came. She gave a light laugh. “Oh, those were just silly tales, darling. You know that.”

“Yeah…” I murmured, watching her too closely. “But you used to describe them so well. Like you’d actually seen one.”

“Rose,” she said gently, her tone suddenly too careful, “those stories were just fantasy. Something to keep a child’s imagination alive. Why do you ask?”

I hesitated, my chest tightening. “No reason. Just curious.”

She studied me, and for a second I thought she might press further...but she didn’t. Instead, she reached out and cupped my cheek. “You’ve always been curious, my little dreamer.”

Her hand was warm, comforting. I leaned into it and whispered, “I just… needed to be with you tonight.”

She smiled softly, her eyes glistening. “Then stay as long as you need. You’ll always have a home here.”

I nodded, resting my head on her laps. The weight of everything I’d been holding in started to melt away...the fear, the confusion, the ache in my chest.

If only I could freeze this moment, before the truth tore it apart.

---

Mrs. Flora’s POV

When Rose finally drifted off on my laps, I sat there for a long time, staring at her sleeping face. The same face I used to cradle when she was a baby...so peaceful now, but I could feel the storm beneath it.

Her question replayed in my head: “Do you remember those bedtime stories?”

My hands trembled slightly as I tucked the blanket around her. The stories she spoke of weren’t stories at all. They were memories. Fragments of a life I’d sworn to bury.

I stood and walked to the window. The moon hung full and bright, washing the room in pale light. I whispered to the night, to the man I once loved, “She’s starting to remember, Daniel.”

A soft wind brushed through the curtains as if answering me.

I swallowed hard. “You told me this day would come. That our daughter would find her way to the truth on her own.” My voice broke. “But she’s not ready. She can’t be.”

The memory of his golden eyes haunted me...gentle, yet fierce. The eyes of a wolf.

When Daniel died in the great war between the wolves and vampires, I’d made a vow...to protect Rose from the claws of the Council. They’d take her if they knew what she was. A child born of both worlds...human and wolf. A bridge the old laws would never allow to exist.

I turned back to her, asleep under the dim lamplight, unaware of how much danger her blood carried.

“I promised him I’d keep you safe,” I whispered. “Even if it meant lying to you forever.”

My heart clenched as I looked at her peaceful face. She was so much like him...brave, stubborn, loyal to a fault.

The thought chilled me.

If the Wolves’ Council ever discovered her lineage, they wouldn’t see her as a miracle. They’d see her as a threat.

I closed my eyes, clutching the locket Daniel gave me all those years ago...the one that still smelled faintly of pine and smoke.

“Please,” I whispered to the heavens, “let her stay hidden a little longer.”

But deep down, I knew fate was already moving.

And once fate begins, it doesn’t stop.