Mag-log inFebruary fifteenth. The day after. The twins went down for their afternoon nap at one-thirty, which meant we had roughly ninety minutes before someone woke up screaming about a dream or demanding juice or both.Ninety minutes was more than enough.I found them in the living room. Nate on the couch reading. Levi on the floor with his laptop, probably watching highlights of something he'd pretend was important. They both looked up when I walked in.I was wearing one of Levi's t-shirts. Just the t-shirt. No shorts. No bra. The hem hit mid-thigh and the neckline was wide enough to slip off one shoulder and I knew exactly what I looked like because I'd checked in the bathroom mirror.Levi's laptop closed slowly. Nate's book lowered."The twins are asleep," I said."How long?" Nate asked."Ninety minutes. Maybe.""Maybe?""Jonah's been fighting naps."Levi looked at Nate. Nate looked at Levi. Some silent calculation passed between them that I'd stopped trying to decode years ago. They had a
The sunroom was warm and golden and quiet, and Ella was reading in the chair with her legs tucked under her, and I was on the floor beside her pretending to work.I was not working.I was watching her ankle. Specifically the way the light hit the small bone on the inside, the curve of tendon, the soft skin I'd been tracing circles on for the last forty minutes. She hadn't told me to stop. She never told me to stop.The twins were at Sera's. Levi was setting up whatever grand romantic gesture he'd been hiding from me for weeks. The house was empty. The fire crackled in the iron stove and Ella turned a page and made a small sound, the kind she made when she read something that pleased her, a quiet hum at the back of her throat.That sound.My thumb pressed harder against her ankle. She glanced down at me over the edge of her book."You're not working," she said."I'm multitasking.""Your laptop's been on the same email for twenty minutes.""It's a long email."She smiled. That slow one.
I woke up alone in the bed, which was disorienting. I patted the mattress. Cold on Nate's side. Cold on Ella's side. I sat up.Voices downstairs. Quiet ones. Then a giggle that was definitely Mira.I pulled on a t-shirt and went down.The kitchen. All of them. Ella at the stove, the blue dress traded for my sweatshirt and leggings, making eggs. Nate at the table, Jonah on his lap, reading the newspaper like a man from 1955. Mira at the counter on her step stool, wearing the crown and supervising Ella's cooking with a critical eye she'd inherited from Nate.The morning after Valentine's Day. February fifteenth. Regular. Ordinary. Perfect."Morning, Papa," Mira said without looking up."Morning, your majesty."She nodded, satisfied with the title.I walked up behind Ella and wrapped my arms around her waist. She leaned back into me. I kissed the spot behind her ear that made her shiver."Eggs?" she said."Please.""Scrambled?""You know how I like them.""Soft, with too much cheese.""T
I woke in bed with no memory of walking back from the kitchen. Nate must have carried me. He did that sometimes, lifted me when I fell asleep somewhere inconvenient, transferred me to the bed without waking me. Alpha strength put to its most domestic use.Levi was curled against me. Face in my hair. Arm heavy across my ribs. He ran hot, even by wolf standards, and sleeping next to him was like sleeping next to a furnace. I should have minded. I didn't. On my other side, Nate lay on his back, one arm above his head, his face slack and young in sleep.I lay between them and thought about the day.The peony. One white peony in a glass vase, because Nate knew I didn't like excess. He knew. He watched me with those careful eyes and catalogued every preference, every flinch, every quiet want I never voiced. And then he delivered, without fanfare, without expectation. Just the thing I needed, exactly when I needed it.The clearing. The lights in the trees and the Neruda on Levi's tongue and
She was gone when I woke. Her side of the bed still warm, the sheets pushed back. Levi slept on, face buried in a pillow, one arm reaching toward the space she'd left. Even in sleep, he reached for her. We both did.I found her in the kitchen. Two a.m. The habit she'd never broken from the early days with the twins, her body trained to wake at feeding time even though the feedings were two years gone.She was sitting at the table in my shirt and nothing else, hands wrapped around a mug of tea, staring out the window at the dark tree line. She didn't startle when I came in. She never did. She always knew when I was close. Some bond that went deeper than hearing, deeper than scent. She just knew.I made myself a cup of tea without speaking. Sat across from her.We didn't need to fill the silence. This was our language. The oldest one. Before the children, before the marriage, before Levi and I had figured out how to share a life without breaking each other. This quiet. Her and me, awake
Our bedroom was the one room in the house that was truly ours. No toys on the floor. No cereal-box crowns. Just the big bed we'd bought together, wide enough for three, with sheets I'd picked and pillows Nate had arranged and a quilt Levi's mother had made us that he refused to be sentimental about but also refused to let anyone wash incorrectly.Nate closed the door behind us and the click of the lock was the sound of the world being shut out. I stood between them in the blue dress, candlelight from the hallway gone, just the low glow of the bedside lamp, and I felt the shift. The same one I always felt when it was the three of us, alone, behind a closed door. The atmosphere thickened. The air changed weight.Levi stepped up behind me. His chest against my back. His hands on my hips. Nate stepped in front of me. Close. His eyes on mine, dark and steady."You're still wearing the dress," Nate said."You asked me to wear it.""I did." His hand came up, traced the neckline, his fingers
The ballroom had been transformed.Crystal chandeliers threw prismatic light across white tablecloths and gold-rimmed china. Flower arrangements — roses and lilies and something purple I couldn’t name — sweetened the air until the perfume was almost too much. A string quartet played in the corner,
The next morning, the estate had transformed into a fortress.Ella woke to find Nate already gone, his side of the bed cold. A note on his pillow: *Stay inside today. New security protocols in place.*She dressed quickly and ventured into the hallway to find guards posted every twenty feet. Not the
Everything became a blur of blood and shouting.Guards swarmed the garden. The pack doctor—a stern-faced woman named Dr. Hayes—appeared with a medical kit, barking orders. Two guards lifted Levi’s convulsing body onto a stretcher while Ella clutched his hand, refusing to let go.“Ma’am, you need to
“What I think,” Ella said slowly, carefully, “is that you’re a bitter woman who pits her sons against each other because it makes you feel powerful. You favor Nate, you abuse Levi, and you wonder why they hate each other. But the truth is—they learned it from you.”The hallway went silent.Vivienne







