The next morning, we’re up before the sun.
Caden and I slip outside while the sky’s still yawning, the air thick with salt and silence. The waves crash lazily beyond the trees, but the tension beneath our skin never rests—not with threats still circling. We won’t let it ruin the trip, though. Not today.Especially not today.May’s official birthday.Which means, if everything goes the way I saw, she’ll walk into the kitchen, see Ryan… and finally realise he’s her mate.Caden stretches beside me, shirtless and smug, cracking his neck like the day owes him something.I toss him a grin. “Think she’ll scream? Or cry? Or just… faint?”“Knowing our sister?” He smirks, stepping into a fighting stance. “All three. In that order.”We start sparring—light, playful, mostly to warm up. The crack of palm against palm echoes off the trees, and inside my head, I feel Ailm stir restlessly, growling low and protective. Not because of Caden, but because she still senseMum had changed everything. The apartment looked nothing like the one we’d grown up in. Black, gold, and white washed through every room like a personal signature—my signature. My favourite colours, woven into the walls, the bedding, the curtains, the artwork. Even the smallest touches, like the gold-tipped handles on the drawers or the black marble detail in the bathroom sink, screamed me. It was stunning, elegant, modern—and warm in a way I hadn’t expected. The sofas were wide and deep and familiar—clearly modeled after the ones at the lake house I’d always curled up in. I instantly imagined Caden and I tangled up on them, a dozen pups in future years climbing all over us. And the bed? Massive. Definitely not just king-sized—it looked like it could hold a pack of wolves and then some. I stood there staring at it for a moment, completely overwhelmed. The sheets were black silk. The duvet was fluffy and soft and probably fi
When we make it to the room, I collapse onto the sofa, completely drained. Aspen, my giant fluffy white shadow, immediately hops up and flops on top of me like I’m a mattress built just for him. His head lands on my shoulder with a soft huff that makes Caden chuckle beside me. I grin, even as my lungs are crushed under the weight of a one-hundred-pound arctic wolf who thinks he’s a lapdog.I just wrap my arms around his thick fur and hug him, burying my face into his neck as he licks my cheek. He doesn’t leave my side—not even my knee. He seems to know that my body hasn’t caught up with my soul yet, that I still feel cracked open from everything we’ve survived. Aspen is the glue, soft and quiet and ever-present.Dad walks in and just shakes his head like he always does when he sees me tangled in wolf fur. His eyes are tired, but there’s pride there too. He’s never once questioned my bond with the wild wolves. He loves them almost as much as I do. Maybe more now that Aspen’s
The private plane hums softly around us as we settle into the big leather couches near the back. The lights are dimmed, a movie is playing, but none of us are really watching.We’re just… laying there.Pressed together like anxious puppies who’ve survived a thunderstorm.May is curled up in the middle, still wrapped in her fluffy robe with a pillow behind her back and a giant fleece blanket Mum had shipped in from her “recovery kit.” She’s human again now, but still so pale it makes my heart hurt. Her eyes are rimmed red from exhaustion, but her mouth twitches at the corners every time Ryan spoons another bite of food into her mouth.“I can feed myself,” she grumbles, barely able to keep her eyes open.“Not fast enough,” Ryan says, as if that’s a medical fact.She’s too tired to argue. But she flicks a carrot chunk at his forehead.Caden is on my left, one arm tucked under my legs, the other curled protectively around my shoulders like I might disappear i
Mark’s men are finally leaving. They’ve searched every room, every inch of the surrounding forest. Cleared traps. Checked windows. Cleansed the space of blood—Jena’s blood. They took her body away on a stretcher, covered in white linen. Something about that simple sheet makes the ache in my chest worse. Like she’s just… a body now. Gone. I stand in the doorway as they say their goodbyes. One of them places a hand on my shoulder gently, respectfully, but I barely hear what he says. My ears are ringing. Caden thanks them quietly. Ryan nods stiffly, arms crossed, his eyes red but dry. He hasn’t said much since Jena was found. None of us have. As the last of Mark’s men disappear into the trees, I finally let myself exhale. Then I hear it—soft paws on hardwood, a faint scrape like nails dragging across the floor. I turn, heart stuttering. May. She limps into view, her brown fur dulled and matted with dried bl
The house is too quiet now.Even with Caden and Ryan nearby, it feels like the silence has teeth—gnawing at the edges of our minds, reminding us that we almost lost everything. I sit on the floor, curled against the bed, watching May’s still wolf form rise and fall with every weak breath.Ryan hasn’t left her side. He won’t. He’s lying there now, his arms around her as if shielding her from anything else that dares try to take her.Caden hasn’t spoken since we talked to mum.He just… watches us. Me. May. Like if he looks away, it’ll all disappear again.When I finally push myself to stand, my whole body trembles from exhaustion and trauma. “Caden,” I whisper, reaching for his hand.He blinks at me slowly. His eyes are red, his jaw clenched so tightly it must hurt.“You need to get cleaned up,” I say gently. “We both do.”He doesn’t argue. He just nods, silent as he lifts me into his arms like I weigh nothing at all.By the time we reach the bathro
I hear a scream behind me—sharp, broken.Then a sob—choked, strangled.My body whirls before my mind can even catch up, but it’s too late.May is on the ground.No, crumpled.Her body is twisted in a way it should never be—spine arched unnaturally, legs unmoving. An arrow juts from her side, deep and deadly, soaked with so much blood I can barely breathe. It’s spreading across the sand like it’s trying to drown her.She looks so small.So fragile.“NO!” I scream, louder than I ever have, the word ripped straight from my soul. “EVERY ROGUE STOP!”The command blasts from me like a supernatural wave. My power crashes into the battlefield, and the world actually freezes.They stop. All of them.Even the wind holds its breath.My legs give out beneath me and I collapse beside her, skidding through blood-stained sand. My hands shake as I press down on the wound, but it’s not enough. She’s slipping.She looks up at me with wide, unblinkin