After some couple of days it was finally moving day.
Everything was happening in a blur—boxes being packed, the movers going in and out, Mom’s never-ending instructions. I stood in my nearly-empty bedroom, the walls bare, shelves empty. The only things left were a few dust bunnies in the corners and some random pushpins I had forgotten to pull out of the wall. The whole place looked hollow, like a ghost of the room I had spent so many years in. I took a deep breath, trying to absorb every little detail because, honestly, the thought of leaving made my chest feel tight. I know this might sound weird coming from a teenage girl, but I hate change. Seriously, hate it. The idea of walking out of my room for the last time—it made my stomach churn. I had spent years filling this space with memories, with moments that were mine, and now I was supposed to just...leave it behind? The bed where I had binge-watched way too many shows, the little nook by the window where I had sit and read for hours. It was all empty now. A few hours from now, someone else would probably be living in here, filling the room with their own memories, and that just felt wrong. Mom’s voice echoed from downstairs. “Camila! Are you ready?” “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!” I yelled back, but I didn’t move right away. I just stood there, taking it all in. I had been preparing for this moment, for all of this, for days now. I had rehearsed conversations in my head, wondering what I would say to these new people, this new...family. Not that I was thrilled about it, but I knew I had to at least try. Mom’s fiancé—Greg—had a son around my age. Ethan. I didn’t know anything about him, but the idea of having to talk to him, live with him, get along with him… it was overwhelming. I’ve always been an introvert, the kind of person who could spend days without socializing and be completely fine with it. And now, I was supposed to share a home with people who were practically strangers? Yeah, talk about a nightmare. I took one last look at my room, then forced myself to walk out. Each step down the stairs felt like a countdown to the end of my old life. Mom was waiting for me at the bottom, smiling like this was the happiest day of her life. Which, I guess, it kind of was. She had that sparkle in her eye, the same one she had since she broke the news about marrying Greg. I wanted to feel happy for her, I really did, but all I could feel was this giant knot in my stomach. “You ready?” she asked, her voice soft, almost like she knew I wasn’t. “Yeah, let’s get this over with,” I muttered, forcing a smile. She squeezed my hand as we walked out to the car. “You know, it’s going to be great. A fresh start.” “Sure,” I replied, trying to sound more positive than I felt. “Great.” The car ride was quiet, with Mom humming along to the radio as I stared out the window, watching as my neighborhood—the place I had known all my life—faded into the distance. It was weird, knowing I would probably never come back. That this chapter of my life was just...over. After what felt like forever, we pulled up to the new house. And when I say “house,” I mean house. It was huge, way bigger than what I was used to. Three stories, massive windows, a perfectly manicured lawn—it looked like something out of a magazine. I felt even more out of place just staring at it. I wasn’t used to this kind of place, this kind of life. Everything about it screamed “new,” “different,” and “change.” Mom stepped out of the car, practically beaming as she looked at the house. “Isn’t it beautiful, Camila?” “Yeah...beautiful,” I mumbled, my heart pounding a little faster. This was really happening. We were really moving in here, and this was really going to be...home. Mom gave me a reassuring smile as we walked up to the front door. “Come on, let’s go inside. Greg and Ethan are waiting for us.” My stomach did a weird flip. I had been mentally preparing myself to meet Greg, but actually stepping through that door and facing him and his son felt like crossing into some unknown world. It was overwhelming, like walking into the first day of school halfway through the semester. You don’t know anyone, you don’t know where anything is, and you’re just praying you don’t make a fool of yourself. Mom opened the door and stepped inside, and I followed, clutching my bag like it was some sort of lifeline. The inside of the house was even more intimidating—high ceilings, shiny floors, everything looking way too perfect. I almost didn’t want to touch anything, afraid I would break it. “Greg?” Mom called out, her voice echoing through the massive hallway. “We’re here!” A man walked out from the kitchen, a warm smile spreading across his face. He looked...nice, I guess. Friendly enough, with kind eyes and a bit of a dad vibe. I could see why Mom liked him, even if he wasn’t exactly what I had imagined. “Camila! It’s so great to finally meet you,” he said, reaching out to shake my hand. “Uh, yeah. Nice to meet you too,” I replied, trying not to sound as awkward as I felt. His handshake was firm but gentle, and he gave me a smile that seemed genuine, like he actually wanted to get to know me. I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or just more nervous. Then Mom said, “Where’s Ethan?” Greg glanced back toward the stairs. “Oh, he’s around. Probably in his room. He’ll be down in a minute, I’m sure.” My nerves spiked at the mention of Ethan. This was the part I had been dreading. Meeting him. Trying to make small talk with him. Figuring out how to share a house, a life, with someone I didn’t even know. Greg showed us around the house, pointing out where everything was—kitchen, living room, backyard, the whole tour. I nodded along, trying to keep up, but my mind kept wandering back to Ethan. What would he be like? Friendly? Awkward? Rude? The thought of dealing with him every day was enough to make my palms sweat. Finally, Greg led us upstairs to show me my new room. It was huge—way bigger than my old room. The bed was already made, the walls were a soft shade of blue, and there was even a desk by the window with a view of the backyard. It was nice, but it didn’t feel like mine yet. “This is great,” I said, forcing a smile. “Thanks.” “I’ll leave you to get settled,” Greg said with a nod, before he headed back downstairs with Mom, leaving me alone. I put my bag down, took a deep breath, and walked over to the window, staring out at the backyard. This was my new life now. New room, new family, new... everything. I was so lost in thought that I didn’t hear footsteps approaching. But suddenly, I felt a presence at the doorway. I turned around slowly, and there he was—standing in the doorway, looking at me. I froze. My heart skipped a beat as I took him in, my brain barely processing what I was seeing. It was him. The last person I ever expected to see.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,