LOGINDinner smells incredible, warm spices, fresh cornbread, something sweet cooling on the counter, but my stomach is too tight to enjoy any of it. I sit between Emily and Mrs. Connor, trying to look normal, trying to pretend I belong here.
Ms. Carter left a few minutes ago after finishing the last of the paperwork. She hugged me before she left. She never hugs. Maybe she thinks this placement will stick. Maybe she hopes it will. I don’t let myself hope for things like that. Emily chatters nonstop about school tomorrow, teachers, hallways, the best vending machines, who to avoid, who to sit with. She’s bright and warm and impossible not to like.
I nod along, but my mind keeps drifting.
Noah sits across from me, barely touching his food. His phone lights up again and again, and every time it does, his jaw tightens. He glances at it, then away, then back again. He hasn’t said more than three words since we sat down.
He was quiet earlier, but present. Now he feels miles away. Maybe this is it. Maybe now that Ms. Carter is gone, the masks are coming off. Maybe this is the real version of them, the version that doesn’t want me here. My chest tightens. Mrs. Connor notices me pushing food around my plate. “Raven, sweetheart, are you feeling okay?”
I force a smile. “Just tired. Long day.”
“Understandable,” she says gently. “You’re welcome to rest whenever you need.”
I nod, but the knot in my throat grows. Panic creeps in, familiar and sharp. I’ve misread things before. I’ve gotten too comfortable before. I’ve been too much before. Noah’s phone buzzes again. He exhales sharply, annoyed, and flips it face‑down. My stomach drops. It’s me. It has to be me. I swallow hard. “Um… would it be okay if I went to my room? I’m just… really tired.”
Mrs. Connor’s face softens. “Of course, honey.”
Emily frowns. “But we were gonna...”
“Emily,” her mom warns gently.
I stand quickly, chair scraping against the floor. My hands shake. I don’t know why this hurts so much. I barely know these people. I shouldn’t care. But I do. Too much. I turn toward the hallway, trying to breathe, trying to keep it together, The lights flicker. All of them. Once. Twice. A picture frame rattles on the wall, tilts, and falls, shattering on the floor. Everyone freezes.
My heart slams against my ribs. I didn’t touch anything. I didn’t even look at it. But the air around me feels charged, humming, like something inside me slipped loose. Noah finally looks up. Really looks. His eyes lock on mine, wide and startled, like he felt something too. Like he knows exactly what just happened. I can’t stay here. I bolt up the stairs, taking them two at a time, breath shaking, pulse roaring in my ears. Behind me, I hear Emily call my name. Mrs. Connor gasps softly. Mr, Connor stands from his chair. But it’s Noah’s voice that follows me the longest, quiet, low, almost pained.
“Raven…”
I slam my bedroom door shut and press my back against it, sliding down until I’m on the floor. The house is quiet again. But inside me? Something is waking up.
I curl my knees to my chest, trying to breathe past the tightness in my throat. My hands won’t stop shaking. My heart won’t slow down. The lights flickered. The picture fell. Everyone saw. Not again. Not here. Not this soon. The house feels alive around me, like the walls are listening, like the air is waiting for something. For me. A soft knock breaks through the silence.
“Raven?”
Noah. His voice is low, careful, like he’s afraid I’ll run again. I stand slowly, wiping my palms on my jeans. I open the door just enough to see him, but not enough to let him in. Having him too close feels… dangerous. Not in a bad way. In a too‑much way. He leans against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, eyes searching my face. He looks worried. Really worried.
“You okay?” he asks.
I nod automatically. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You ran up the stairs like the house was on fire.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. “I just… needed air.”
He studies me for a long moment, something softening in his expression. “You don’t have to be scared here.” I swallow hard. “I’m not scared.”
He doesn’t call me out on the lie, but his eyes say he knows. Silence stretches between us, warm, strange. His presence calms something in me I didn’t know could be calmed. My heartbeat steadies. The panic loosens its grip. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand him.
“I don’t know why you’re here,” I whisper before I can stop myself. “Why are you checking on me? You don’t even know me.”
His jaw tightens, like he’s holding something back. “You’re part of this family now.”
The words hit me harder than they should.
“I’m only here for a month,” I say quietly.
“No,” he says, voice low. “You’re here as long as you want to be.”
My breath catches. He shifts, glancing down the hall. “Mom’s worried. Dad too. They want to make sure you’re okay.”
“And you?” I ask before I can stop myself.
His eyes snap back to mine. Something flickers there, warm, intense, something I don’t have a name for. “I’m…” He clears his throat. “I’m just making sure you’re not freaking out alone.”
I let out a shaky breath. “I’m not freaking out.”
He gives me a look that says you absolutely are, but he doesn’t push it. Another beat of silence. Then his phone buzzes in his pocket. He flinches. His expression shutters. He pulls the phone out, glances at the screen, and his whole body goes tense. “Sorry,” he mutters. “I...uh...I should go.”
He turns quickly, heading down the hall, shoulders tight, steps heavy. I watch him go, confusion twisting in my chest. I don’t know what’s bothering him. I don’t know why he looked at me like that. I don’t know why his presence calms me when nothing else ever has. But I do know one thing:
Whatever is happening to me, whatever is waking up inside me, Noah feels it too.
The moment I hit the tree line, I shift. My wolf bursts forward, paws pounding the earth, breath sharp in the cold air. The woods behind Hallow’s Edge stretch wide and quiet, but my wolf doesn’t care about scenery. He cares about her. Emily.The matebond thrums under my skin like a live wire , too loud, too bright, too impossible to ignore. Four years of waiting. Four years of knowing she existed somewhere out there. Four years of imagining what she’d be like.And now she’s here. Close enough to touch. Close enough to scent. Close enough to claim... Except I can’t. Not yet. My wolf growls, frustrated, pushing at the edges of my mind. I know, I tell him. I want her too. He snarls, not at me, at fate.We’ve waited over four years to find our mate. And now we have to wait two more. Because witches don’t sense their mates until eighteen and Emily is only sixteen. My wolf hates it. I hate it. But we can’t rush her. We can’t scare her. We can’t push her. We have to be patient. We have to be
I stand in the doorway, clutching the gift basket like it’s the only thing keeping my hands from shaking. They’re here. Clara. Aaron. Kyle. The SilverClaw Pack.Noah stands behind me, warm and steady, the matebond humming with his nerves and mine tangled together. Mom steps out onto the porch first, calm but excited. Grace follows, smoothing her sweater like she’s trying to look less like she’s been stress‑cleaning for an hour. I take a breath and step outside.A dark SUV rolls down the gravel drive, tires crunching over the stones. The November wind carries the scent of pine, cold air, and something else... Something wild. My magic stirs, curious and cautious. The SUV stops near the barn. The engine shuts off. For a moment, everything is still. Then the doors open.Clara steps out first. She’s beautiful in a grounded, powerful way, silver‑blonde hair, sharp warm eyes, a leather satchel full of journals. She looks at me, and something inside me settles. Recognition. Understanding. A q
I’m grateful Clara is coming. Really, I am. But that doesn’t mean I’m calm about it. Wolves. On our farm. Around Raven. My stomach twists every time I think about it.I know Clara is trustworthy, everyone says so, even Dad, but her mate? Her son? Those are wild cards. Wolves are territorial, prideful, and unpredictable when it comes to power. And Raven… Raven is power.I keep telling myself they’re coming to help. But the part of me that’s her guardian, the part that’s her mate, doesn’t like the idea of strangers anywhere near her. Dad must sense it, because he’s been helping me all morning without complaining. We’re in the barn loft apartment, dusting, sweeping, making sure the beds are made and the space is warm enough for guests.Dad shakes out a blanket and glances over at me. “You’re thinking too loud.”I snort. “I’m allowed to think.”“You’re allowed to worry,” he corrects. “But don’t let it eat you alive.”I lean against the railing, looking down at the barn floor. “What if the
I’m halfway through organizing the winter supply inventory when my phone buzzes.A name flashes across the screen. Delaney Warren.I freeze. Delaney hasn’t called anyone in eighteen years. I answer immediately. “Delaney?”Her voice is tight, urgent. “Clara… I need your help.”I don’t ask questions. Not yet. Not when her tone tells me everything I need to know.“I’ll come,” I say. “Tell me where.”“Hallow’s Edge,” she replies. “By nightfall.”I exhale slowly. “We’ll be there.”She tells me what's going on and what she needs. When I hang up, Aaron is already standing in the doorway of my office, arms crossed and brow raised. “Did I hear that right?” he asks. “Delaney called you?”I nod. “Yes.”He whistles under his breath. “She’s been missing for eighteen years.”“I know,” I say softly. “And I’ll explain what happened when we get there.”He steps closer, expression shifting from surprise to concern. “Clara… if she’s calling you now, it’s serious.”“It is,” I admit. “We need to be on the
I wake to an empty bed. For half a second, my heart jumps— until the matebond hums softly, warm and steady, telling me she’s close. Safe. Calm. Thinking. I smile into the pillow. Of course she’s up early.I stretch, pull on sweatpants and a shirt, and head downstairs. Halfway down, I hear voices...low, tense, arguing. Dad. And Delaney. Great. I step into the living room just as Dad throws his hands up. “Delaney, this is insane. You can’t seriously think this is a good idea.”Delaney’s voice is sharp. “It’s the only idea we have left.”Mom is sitting on the couch, looking like she’s trying to mediate without actually stepping between them. Raven is curled in the corner of the couch, mug in hand, watching them with wide eyes. I go straight to her and sit beside her, our knees touching. She leans into me automatically, the bond humming warm. “What’s going on?” I murmur.She sighs. “Mom wants to call a Luna in to help us learn more about the prophecy.”My eyebrows lift. “A Luna?”She nods
I wake before Noah. The room is dim, the soft gray of early morning slipping through the curtains. Noah is still asleep beside me, one arm draped over my waist, breathing slow and steady. The matebond hums quietly, warm, comforting, peaceful. I smile. But my mind is already turning. Thinking. Planning. Worrying. I slip carefully out from under his arm, trying not to wake him. He stirs once, reaching for me instinctively, but settles again when the bond reassures him I’m close. I pull on a sweater and head downstairs.The farmhouse is quiet, wrapped in that soft hush only early mornings seem to have. I walk into the kitchen, expecting to start coffee, but the pot is already full. And one mug is missing. I blink. Who else would be up this early?I grab my own mug, pour coffee, and head toward the back door. The November air is crisp, cool enough to make me pull the sweater tighter around me.When I step onto the porch, I see her. Mom sits in one of the rocking chairs, legs tucked under
I step away from Raven’s door, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I shouldn’t have gone up there. I shouldn’t have stood in her doorway staring at her like I forgot how to function. I shouldn’t have felt… whatever that was. But I did. And now everything inside me is twisted. I walk down the hall tow
Emily’s room smells like vanilla, old books, and something warm I can’t name. Maybe it’s safety. Maybe it’s magic. Maybe it’s just her. She talks a mile a minute as she leads me through the hallway toward my room, pointing out creaky floorboards, the bathroom we’ll share, and the window that sticks
I knew I would feel it when she arrived. Mom kept saying Raven was the one we’d been waiting for, the Warren heir, the girl I was born to protect. I tried not to believe it. We’ve had other girls placed with us before. Other maybes. Other almosts. Every time, I let myself hope, and every time, I wa
The road to Hallow’s Edge swallows us whole. Fog curls around the car in thick, dragging sheets, smearing across the windows like fingers trying to get in. The air smells damp and metallic, like pennies, or blood, and every mile we drive feels like we’re sinking deeper into something ancient.Ms. C







