LOGINI know this chapter is super short, but I just couldn’t stop myself from sharing this scene with you guys! 💕 I’ve injured my wrist, and it’s quite painful to type right now, so I’m giving it a day or two to heal. Once it’s better, I’ll be back with longer updates. I promise!
LucasAnastasia knocks once and then pushes the door open like she owns the place when I tell her to come in, which she kind of does, it is her home as well.She sets a paper bag on my desk, right on top of a map I was staring holes into. The smell hits first. Baked potato chips. Warm. Salty. Comfort disguised as food.She just got back from Headquarters. I can tell by the tension still sitting in her shoulders and the faint metallic scent that always clings to her jacket after long days there.Who would have thought the Chief of Hunters would become my sister. Life is funny that way. Not ironic. Just strange and persistent.I glance at the bag and then at her. “You brought these again.”“You like them,” she says, like that explains everything. It does to her. One detail cataloged and stored forever.I once mentioned liking the baked potato chips one of the chefs at HQ makes. Just a passing comment, nothing important. But since then, every time those chips are baked, she brings them f
AuroraThe cup is warm in my hands. Too warm. I notice it and still lift it to my mouth because I am distracted by the smell, by the way the chocolate looks thicker than anything I have ever had before. Merope stands across from me, her back half turned as she puts something away on a shelf. She hums softly, not a song I recognize.I take a sip.Instant regret.Heat floods my mouth and I make a small, undignified noise as I pull back, coughing once, eyes watering. The cup wobbles in my hands and I manage not to drop it, which feels like a minor miracle considering the way my tongue feels like it has been personally betrayed.Before I can recover, Merope turns.Her eyes flick straight to my face. Not the cup. Not the spill that did not happen. My face. The way my lips part as I breathe through my mouth, the quick blink of my eyes as I try not to make this worse.The sting lingers, sharp but fading.She crosses the room in a few steps. I notice how she moves without rush, but everything
AuroraElder Merope is old. Not just old, but ancient in the way mountains are old. The kind of old that is older than your grandparents or great-grandparents. If I did not know her, if I had passed her on the street, I would have guessed she was maybe forty. Calm eyes. Smooth skin. Hair only lightly touched with silver. Nothing about her looks like centuries. And yet everything about her feels like time.My grandmother would want to kill her if she ever met Merope and found that, without any costly procedures, she looks this young.Her house smells like dried herbs and rain-soaked earth... and feels welcoming. I like the way her eyes soften when they land on me.She is kind to me. Not polite-kind. Not careful-kind. Real kindness. The kind that does not hover or pity. Lucas trusts her, and that trust slides into me without resistance. If he believes in her, then I do too. Simple as that.“You are special,” she tells me, not for the first time. She keeps saying this to me as an affirm
LucasThe wind will not shut up.It keeps pushing through the trees outside, leaves brushing and colliding, a soft but relentless sound that drills straight into my head. Swish. Rattle. Pause. Then again. The rhythm is almost intentional, like it knows I am trying to think and wants to be counted among my thoughts. I sit at the desk with papers spread out in front of me, maps pinned, notes stacked, timestamps circled and crossed out so many times the ink has started to blur. Aurora is not here, she is at Merope's place.I will pick her up in an hour. Sixty minutes. I check the time without meaning to as I am literally counting seconds until she is with me.Forcing my mind back to the task, I trace the pattern of attacks again with the tip of my pen. Location. Time. Method. Entry. Exit. I say the words silently, like a mantra. I have already submitted my final assignment. University is finished for now, which should feel like relief. Instead it feels like permission. Every spare minute
LucasAurora has been spending more time with Elder Merope lately. Merope returned for Irene and Alexei’s son’s birth, and I took the opportunity the second I saw it. I told her about Aurora About the hybrid blood. About the way Aurora’s emotions spike when her wolf reacts faster than she can think. Merope listened without interrupting and with curiosity.In her entire life, she has only met two hybrids.Even then, she said, each one was different. Just like us wolves, we are different, and not every wolf is the same. So do the hybrids.She offered to help Aurora find harmony between her human side and her wolf. Not control. Not suppression. Harmony. Aurora accepted without hesitation, which tells me she is tired of feeling split in two. I watch her trust Merope, and part of me relaxes, knowing Aurora will finally have someone to guide her in understanding how to deal with her other animal part.“So,” Caleb says eventually, “what puzzle are you trying to solve now?”I hear the edge in
Lucas The door opens again, and this time it feels different. Lighter. Like the air knows it can finally move.Alexei steps out holding something small, wrapped tight in a soft swaddle. His smile is the kind that starts in his eyes and spreads like it cannot be contained. He looks exhausted and radiant at the same time, hair still a mess, shoulders loose in a way they were not before. He scans the room once, then his gaze lands on Emma.“Emma,” he says, voice rough in the best way.She does not hesitate. She runs straight into him and wraps her arms around his waist, burying her face against him like she needs to confirm he is real. Her body shakes as she cries, and Alexei adjusts his hold on the bundle without even looking, instinctive, practiced already.“I was so worried about mom,” she says between breaths. “And the baby. I was so scared, Dad.”That word still hits him every time. I see it in the way his mouth tightens before softening again. He runs his hand through her hair, sl







