I don’t want to be the horrible daughter who stands in the way of her mom’s happiness. Seriously, I don’t.
But when she dropped that bomb on me, I couldn’t keep my cool. “What the fuck do you mean you’re getting married, Mom?” I blurted out before I could even think to filter my words. My voice came out way louder than I intended, and her eyes snapped up, meeting mine with a look that clearly said she didn’t appreciate the tone. But, come on—she had just blindsided me with this whole getting-married news, and she expected me to what? Clap my hands and throw her a party? “No curse words, Camila,” she chided, almost calmly, as if we were talking about the weather and not her dropping an emotional grenade on me. She set down a plate on the dining table, patting it like this was all normal. “He’s a good guy, and I’m sure you’ll like him.” “‘Good guy’? That’s all you’re giving me here?” I scoffed, throwing my hands up in frustration. “Who is he, Mom? Where did he come from? Are you sure about this?” My voice was laced with desperation because this was starting to feel like a bizarre dream—no, scratch that, a nightmare. She sighed, clearly unimpressed by my dramatics, as she continued setting the table. “Yes, Camila, I’m sure. And his name is Greg. We’ve been dating for over a year.” A year?! My jaw nearly hit the floor. “And you never thought to mention him once?” I demanded, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. “I thought we told each other everything!” “Camila, you were busy with school and your friends. And I wanted to be sure it was serious before I introduced him to you,” she explained, like that somehow made it all better. I just stared at her, dumbfounded. My mom had been a single mother for as long as I could remember. I never met my dad, and honestly, it never really bothered me. Mom made sure I didn’t lack anything; she was my everything. I got used to it being just us, and somewhere along the line, I had settled into the idea that this was our forever dynamic—just the two of us against the world. And now, out of nowhere, she wanted to bring in some guy named Greg? Mom must’ve seen the look on my face because she reached out, patting my hand. “Sweetheart, you’ll love him. And he has a son, so you’ll finally have a sibling,” she said, her face lighting up like this was the best news in the world. “Isn’t that great?” My brain short-circuited for a moment. A sibling? She was throwing that into the mix too? “You’re telling me I’m supposed to just...accept this guy as my new dad and his kid as my sibling? Mom, this isn’t one of your romance novels!” She chuckled, which honestly just made me feel worse. “Camila, you’re overreacting. I’m not asking you to think of him as your dad. I know it’s a big change, but he makes me happy. Can’t you at least give him a chance?” I wanted to argue, to tell her that this was way too much, way too fast, and that I wasn’t ready for this kind of change. But then I looked at her, really looked at her. My mom looked...happy. Happier than I had seen her in a long time. She was practically glowing as she talked about this Greg guy, and I could see something in her eyes that softened the edges of my frustration. She deserved to be happy. But did that mean I had to be okay with this? “I don’t know, Mom,” I muttered, looking down at the table. “It just...it feels weird. Like, we’re supposed to be a team, you and me. What if he changes everything? What if it’s not the same?” She gave me a small, understanding smile and wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “It will always be you and me, Camila. No one can change that. But this doesn’t mean we can’t let other people in too.” I took a deep breath, my chest tight with conflicting emotions. I wanted to be happy for her, I really did. But this was a lot to process. “Does his son know about all this?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral. Mom nodded. “Yes, he knows. He’s around your age, actually. His name is Ethan.” I raised an eyebrow. “Great. So now I’m supposed to get along with some random guy I’ve never met before? You really are asking for a lot here, you know that?” Mom laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’ll be fine, Camila. Just give it a try. For me?” She looked so hopeful, so... vulnerable, and it twisted something in my chest. I wanted to scream, to tell her this wasn’t fair, but I could see that this wasn’t just about me. For once, I had to put her first. “Fine,” I mumbled reluctantly, “I’ll try. But I’m not promising anything.” She hugged me, squeezing a bit tighter than usual, like she was reassuring both of us. “Thank you, sweetheart. That means a lot.” Later that night, as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change in a way I wasn’t ready for. Greg and his son, Ethan. Just the thought of them moving into our world felt intrusive, like they were strangers barging into our little bubble. And what if they took up too much space? What if I got lost in all this? I sighed, rolling over and hugging my pillow. This was happening whether I liked it or not. I didn’t want to be the selfish daughter who couldn’t let her mom be happy. But at the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder if things were ever going to feel normal again. Because this wasn’t just about Greg. It was about the life my mom and I had built together—just us, against everything. And now, with these strangers coming in, it was like that world was slipping through my fingers, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. All I could do was hope that maybe, just maybe, this new world wouldn’t be as scary as it felt. But deep down, I knew that wasn’t a promise anyone could make.As I walked through the hallway, my boots didn’t make a sound, not because I was trying especially hard, but because silence had become second nature to me. When you’ve survived as long as I have, you learn to move like a ghost—present but unseen. I exhaled slowly, rolling the tension out of my shoulders as I approached the room where I’d left Camila. My ribs ached, the faint throb of the injury I hadn’t fully healed still reminding me it was there, but it was background noise compared to the thoughts storming in my head. The alpha’s face when I mentioned his wife—gods, that look. I could still taste the fear radiating off him. But even that satisfaction dulled as I pushed the door open to Camila’s room and slipped inside. She was there. Curled up on the narrow bed, blanket around her legs, one arm tucked beneath her head. The faint light spilling through the shutters painted her in soft shadows. I shut the door behind me, quieter this time, and leaned against it for a moment, l
The words landed like a blade to the chest. I watched the color drain from his face—first the faint tightening around his mouth, then the way his eyes flickered, wide, panic bleeding through the rage he’d been clinging to. His skin went pale, his grip on the chair slackening. “What?” he rasped, almost too quiet to hear. I just stared at him, leaning lazily against the doorframe, letting the silence stretch. The firelight flickered across his face, painting him hollow. I smiled and slipped out the door. He surged to his feet with a choked sound, stumbling forward like the ground beneath him had vanished. His heavy steps thundered across the rug until he slammed against the door, yanking it open with a snarl of desperation. “What do you mean?” His voice cracked, all that alpha authority gone in an instant, stripped raw. “She’s here!” I tilted my head, eyes gleaming with a kind of cruel amusement. “Oh…” My grin widened, eyes practically glowing with excitement. “Of course. She’s h
Steady. Calm. Sleeping—that’s what I thought. But the second the door creaked, I froze. He wasn’t in bed. No, the bastard was sitting there like he’d been waiting for me the whole damn time. A hulking shadow in a wide chair near the hearth, posture relaxed but eyes sharp, like a predator who’d scented me before I even entered. “You finally came,” he said. His voice was deep, smooth, too damn calm for someone who should’ve been startled out of his sleep. My eyes flicked away from him, darting toward the massive bed across the room. That’s when I saw her—a girl curled beneath the heavy furs, chest rising and falling in soft, steady rhythm. Bait. My lip curled into a humorless smile. “Took you long enough,” he added, eyes never leaving me. “Well,” I drawled, stepping inside and shutting the door behind me with a soft click, “I was putting your daughter to sleep.” The glare he gave me could’ve cut stone. I chuckled low, leaning back against the door for a second just to let the
ETHAN ~ I lay there, flat on my back, staring up at the wooden beams of the ceiling, every muscle in my body screaming at me to rest. But I couldn’t—not with her breathing so softly beside me, like nothing had happened. Camila. I turned my head slightly, careful not to jolt the bed, and watched her face. She was curled on her side, lashes pressed against her cheeks, hair spilling across the pillow. Peaceful. Too peaceful. It made my chest ache in a way I couldn’t describe. She’d been through a lot, and somehow she still found a way to sleep. I let my gaze linger on her face. I couldn’t believe it—Maria. That stubborn little red-haired brat actually helped the bastards into our pack. I should’ve ripped her throat out the second I saw that hunger in her eyes, that obsession she thought she could disguise. She wanted me, and she thought she could get me by taking Camila out of the picture. The one person I couldn’t stand losing. My sweet little angel. I clenched my jaw and force
I jerked back, smacking his hand with a sharp slap. My face went hot immediately. “Are you insane? You can barely sit properly!” He winced, but not from the slap. His grin was shameless, the kind of boyish grin that almost made me forgive him. “I’m fine.” “You’re not fine!” I shot back, glaring even though my cheeks burned. He tilted his head, giving me that wounded-puppy look. “But I miss you.” The words came out like a whine, half-playful but laced with want. I groaned, rubbing my forehead with both hands. “Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. I can’t believe I spent the whole night worried sick over your horny ass.” That broke him. He laughed. Loud, unrestrained, the kind of laugh that rumbled out of his chest and shook his shoulders even though it clearly hurt his side. I couldn’t hold the glare. The corners of my lips twitched, then cracked, and before I knew it, I was laughing right along with him. We laughed so hard our eyes watered. Every time we tried to stop, one of
That night was the longest night of my life. I sat by Ethan’s side, not moving, not even daring to blink for too long. His skin burned like fire under my palm, his whole body trapped in a fever. The healer had left herbs and strange-smelling pastes, had reassured me it was “normal” for the body to purge heat after so much blood loss, but none of her words made me feel better. Every minute that passed felt like a thread pulling tighter around my throat. He tossed and turned, his breathing shallow, sweat slicking his forehead. I wiped it again and again with the damp cloth Lyra had left me. It felt like nothing helped. Nothing at all! If only there was something I could do. My heart clenched each time he groaned, each time he whispered something I couldn’t quite catch. Sometimes I thought he was calling my name. Sometimes I thought it was his pack. Sometimes it was just a low, broken sound that made me want to scream. I didn’t sleep. Not a wink. My body ached, my eyes stung,