LOGINIris. Wednesday, 31st March. Two days later… Morning. The rain is pouring again. Everything is wet. The dull gray sky does nothing to ease the heaviness pressing down on us. Gerald sits behind me, alive, breathing, real, as I stare out the open window in the living room. He’s alive. He never died. It was all a mirage from Eliora. I am happy. I am extremely so happy. But the wounds his absence carved into me, they don’t just disappear. Not like that. Not overnight. I hear him rise. Feel him before I see him. The air shifts as he closes the distance between us. Then his arms slide around me from behind, warm, solid and grounding. “Are you equally unhappy to see me?” He murmurs. His lips brush the shell of my ear. A soft sound escapes me, half moan, half breath. My chest swelling with relief, with peace, with a happiness so overwhelming it almost hurts. Slowly, I turn in his arms. “I am the happiest woman on earth,” I whisper. “You came back.” I lean in and kiss him. We hold e
Gerald. Ford Mansion. Later… For the past hour, everyone has been staring at me like I’m a ghost. I’m not a ghost. I’m Gerald Ford. One and the same.Alive. Breathing. Real. And yet, the way they look at me, you’d think I clawed my way out of my grave. We’re back at the mansion, seated in the living room. The crowd has been safely dispersed. “No judgment today, people! Go back to your homes!” Luke’s voice still rings in my head, the moment he touched me and realized I was alive. That I wasn’t one of the walking dead. Now I sit before my family, my friends, all of them deserving the truth. Even Charmaine is here. She stands as an outside witness. I sweep my gaze over their curious faces, wondering how the hell I’m supposed to begin this story. Iris clutches me like I’m her lifeline. Her anchor. And that breaks my heart, because I know she must have suffered while I was gone. Just like I did. Oh! Just like I did. But I have to start the story somewhere. So I st
Emerald. Forest. Night. The entire pack is here tonight. The moon hangs high above us, spilling its beautiful glow across the clearing. Rain fell heavily for the last three hours, relentlessly and unforgiving. And now the cold seeps into our bones like arrows of judgment, sharp and merciless. It brings with it a dull, gray heaviness. Perhaps even the cold wants to judge Scar. Perhaps even the cold finds him as guilty as I do. My eyes sweep across the clearing where the pack stands, gathered, waiting for the goddess to come and pass her verdict. They don’t even try to hide their scorn. Not for him. Scar kneels at the center of it all, bound in chains. His knees pressed into the cold, wet earth. His head is bowed low. And I know he’s cold too. Watching him like this, my heart splinters into fragments. I hear the elders’ thoughts, loud, vicious and unrelenting. 'Let him be executed, just like he executed Gerald. Tear his head from his body…' 'Drag him across the asphalt until
Scar. Monday, 29th March. Two days later. Ford Mansion. Evening. My trial is today. And it came quicker than I thought. Somehow, Emerald expedited everything. Asher has been feeding me information outside these walls. These suffocating walls of my old room at the Ford Mansion. Memory detonates inside me now. Violent and unforgiving. Dragging me back to that night we returned. “Asher.” Emerald’s voice cut clean through the celebratory cheering. It was sharp and final. We all turned. She wasn’t smiling. She didn’t even try. Her gaze locked on me, hard and unrelenting, like I was something she needed to destroy to breathe again. “I am taking back my position as Alpha of the pack…” “What?” Voices erupted around us in confusion, alarm and disbelief. But she ignored every single one of them. Ignored everything but me. “And I am ordering you to lock this criminal behind bars. This instant.” “On what charges?” Asher challenged, defiantly. I stopped him. Just a look. Weak, barel
Emerald. His Luna. He called me his Luna. And just like that, something primal awakens in me. My wolf stirs. She feels the reach of his claim. She feels the power threaded through it. It drags at something ancient inside me. Something buried, something I cannot cage. Despite my hate for Scar. Despite my anger towards him, my wolf reaches for his claim. I wail inside as she rises, as she answers him. As she responds to his primal call. I wail because my wolf is selfish. Because she is accepting the call of the one who killed my father. Accepting the title of his Luna. Accepting him. Instead of ripping his head off, I am accepting him. The realization burns through me. And now I stand before all of them, my eyes blazing on Erianna. But before I can reach her, Scar has already morphed. His wolf pins her beneath him. ‘Emerald, are you alright?’ His voice slides through the mind link. I growl low and feral. ‘Don’t,’ I warn. ‘Don’t play the dutiful husband now, you killer.’ I growl a
Scar. My gaze sharpens on Erianna. I glare at her, ready to take her down. But I don’t know how much damage they’ve already done to my wife. When I stood before Emerald moments ago, I tried reaching her through our mind link, just to know how she was. She didn’t respond. Nothing. “You wouldn’t touch a hair on her. Not while I’m alive.” I warn, darkly. Erianna startles. Probably at my tone. At the sheer intensity in my voice. “Then I guess we will just have to arrange for your own death.” Riley’s voice slices into the stillness. I turn slowly to him. “How have you been, Scar?” His mocking tone cuts straight through me. “I hear that you’re now married…” “Cut the shit, Riley.” My voice stays steady, despite the chaos inside me. “I need you and Erianna to put an end to all of this.” I step toward him. “Let Emerald go. Right now.” “Ohh… I’m shaking in my boots, Scar.” Riley teases. He steps closer to Emerald, eyes dragging over her. “She’s pretty. I see why you lost contro
Scar. Brooklyn. Saturday, January 30th. Next day. Night. “So you’re telling me that we still can’t solve the series of abductions that have occurred in recent days.” Chief Piefer snaps. His voice rings through the room, sharp and cracking. His face is flushed red with anger. We’re cooped up i
Emerald. Meanwhile. I reach inside my old room upstairs and halt. “Shit. I forgot my phone on my swing.” I groan out loud, already turning, already heading straight back for the door. I’m halfway down the stairs when I freeze. A voice reaches me. Arthur? No. That’s not possible. What the he
Emerald. Friday, 29th January. Next day. Morning. I park the car in front of the Denvers’ home. A white blanket of snow covers the entire ground like a second skin. It must have snowed sometime in the night. Dad’s voice from yesterday about the weather forecast, filters into my memory. “The for
Emerald. Wednesday, 27th January. Days later... Noon. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. The sound cuts through the hospital’s central alarm system, tearing my eyes away from the report I’d been writing moments ago. Every nerve in my body sharpens instantly. “Emergency, Doctor Ford! Cold Blue in cubi







