Chapter 2

Back home, Seraphina wandered into the backyard with her coffee in one hand and a book in the other. Her grandmother’s garden was mostly wild now, though some herbs were still thriving in terracotta pots. Lavender, sage, rosemary—plants that smelled like spells and memories.

She sat on a creaky lounge chair and flipped open her book, but the words barely registered. Her eyes kept drifting to the forest that stretched just beyond the backyard. Tall, quiet trees. Shadows between trunks. Movement that might’ve been wind—or not.

Lucien’s voice echoed in her head: The woods aren’t safe for strangers.

She shook it off. “He probably tells that to all the tourists.”

Still, her eyes lingered on the edge of the trees.

She wasn’t sure when she drifted off, but she woke up to the sound of something snapping a twig. Her heart thudded. She sat up straight.

Nothing moved.

But it felt… watched.

“Probably just a raccoon,” she said aloud.

She stood, brushed herself off, and went back inside, locking the back door behind her—just in case.

Later that evening, she found herself on the porch again, this time with a blanket and a mug of instant ramen. Moonridge wasn’t so bad once you got past the creepy vibes. The stars were bright, and the air smelled like pine and promise.

She was halfway through slurping a noodle when someone called her name.

“Seraphina.”

She turned so fast she nearly spilled the broth. Lucien stood at the bottom of her porch steps, hands in his jacket pockets.

“You ever knock like a normal person?” she asked.

He ignored that. “I wanted to show you something.”

She squinted at him. “That’s not a sentence that inspires trust.”

“You’re not safe here if you don’t understand what this place is.”

“Oh, and you’re gonna explain it? What, with a PowerPoint?”

“No,” he said simply. “With the truth.”

Something in his tone made her pause. He looked serious—more than usual.

She hesitated, then put down the ramen. “Fine. But if I die in the woods, I’m haunting you.”

Lucien smirked. “Fair.”

The walk into the forest was oddly quiet. No bugs. No birds. Just the crunch of leaves underfoot and Lucien’s steady, silent pace.

After about ten minutes, he stopped.

“This is the clearing.”

Seraphina looked around. Moonlight streamed through the canopy, casting a silvery glow on the grass. It looked… magical.

“Okay, cool spot. So?”

Lucien stepped forward, unzipping his jacket. “You said you wanted answers.”

“I said no such thing—wait, what are you doing?”

His eyes met hers. “Don’t run.”

She opened her mouth to ask more, but then—

He shifted.

Bones cracked. Clothes tore. Muscles twisted. Fur spread across his skin like wildfire. In seconds, Lucien Thorne—the guy who looked like he starred in a motorcycle calendar—was gone.

In his place stood a massive black wolf.

Seraphina’s mouth dropped open.

The wolf stared at her. Calm. Steady. Familiar.

She blinked once. Twice.

Then she screamed.

And bolted.

Branches whipped past her face as she ran. Her heart pounded in her ears. Her lungs burned.

This was not happening.

She tripped, fell, rolled down a short hill—and landed face-first in a patch of moss.

The wolf didn’t chase her.

When she finally turned around, shaking, he was just standing there at the top of the hill. Watching her.

Like he’d expected it.

Like he’d seen it a hundred times before.

She crawled backward. “Nope. Nope nope nope.”

And then he shifted back.

The snapping of bones was horrible. In seconds, Lucien stood there again, bare-chested and covered in scratches. His clothes ruined.

He didn’t look smug. He didn’t even look apologetic.

He looked sad.

“I didn’t want to scare you,” he said quietly.

She stared at him, unable to speak.

“You needed to see. You’re not like them, Seraphina. You never were.”

Seraphina stood up slowly, her legs wobbling like she’d just run a marathon—which, in fairness, she basically had. Lucien didn’t move from his place at the top of the hill. The forest was still. Too still.

“You…” she started, her voice hoarse. “You turned into a giant dog.”

Lucien raised an eyebrow. “Wolf.”

She pointed at him with shaking hands. “Okay. Sure. That’s the part that needs correcting right now.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You showed up at my house twice, warned me about the forest like some horror movie narrator, then turned into an animal in front of me.” She paused. “You definitely meant to scare me.”

Lucien ran a hand through his now-damp hair. “You need to understand. You’re not just here to inherit your grandmother’s house. You’re part of this. Whether you want to be or not.”

She stared at him. “Part of what?”

“The pack. The bloodline. The war.”

Seraphina blinked. “Okay, that escalated.”

He stepped closer, slowly, like approaching a spooked deer. “You’ve felt it, haven’t you? Since you got here. Like something’s waking up.”

She hesitated.

She had. The dreams. The weird energy. The way she always seemed to know when someone was behind her.

“Your grandmother knew what you were. She protected you from it. But now she’s gone. The protections are fading. And others… they’ll sense it too.”

Seraphina swallowed. “Others?”

“There are rival packs. Rogues. Things that don’t follow rules. And they’ll want you for what’s in your blood.”

She gave a shaky laugh. “You’re really bad at comforting people, you know that?”

Lucien’s mouth twitched—almost a smile.

“Come on. I’ll walk you back.”

They walked in silence, the forest around them eerily calm. Her mind spun with questions she couldn’t even begin to untangle.

When they reached her porch, she turned to him.

“So… what now?”

Lucien’s eyes met hers. “Now, you decide if you’re going to pretend nothing’s changed—or if you want to learn the truth.”

She exhaled. “You gonna give me a manual or something?”

He shrugged. “Sort of.”

He pulled a pendant from his pocket—silver, with a moonstone in the center—and placed it in her hand. It was warm, almost like it had a heartbeat.

“Your grandmother wanted you to have this. It’ll keep you safe. For now.”

Before she could ask anything else, he turned and disappeared into the dark.

She stared after him, clutching the pendant.

The world had cracked open, and something old and wild had slipped through.

And for some reason, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to shut it again.