Masuk
13 years ago.
Romy’s POV
“Heavens, Romy! You either pick that doll up or I swear, I'll rip its head off its poorly invested neck!” My mother screamed, filled with a fury I had come accustomed to over the years.
I flinched, and the doll slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud. One of her glass eyes caught the light and stared up at me like she was just as startled.
Mother was already moving. She always moved when she was angry, like every step announced to everyone how angry she was.
“Your birth alone has cost us enough,” she said, and this time her voice wavered. “Must you always remind me of it?”
But the thing was, I wasn't waving it. I never did.
Still, my hand went to the back of my neck, fingers pressing against the place that was always too warm. The skin there throbbed faintly, like it had its own heartbeat.
“Pick up that doll this instant and make this room presentable. You will not ruin your sister’s day the way you have ruined our lives!”
“Belly, enough!” Father’s voice came from the doorway. Low, and probably tired from all the constant yelling he had to endure.
“Mom?” Alina followed close behind father.
My mother stopped and turned towards her.
For a moment, nobody spoke. She turned away from me first, as she always did, with my father directly behind her, and the door closed a little while later.
My shoulder sagged in disappointment. I always wondered why she hated me so much for something I had no control over. I let out a deep sigh, my eyes glued to the floor as my eyes became watery.
Alina crossed the room and knelt in front of me, giving me a small, weary smile. “She didn’t mean it,” she said gently, picking up my doll and brushing imaginary dust from its dress. “Tomorrow is a big day. And mother is just… overwhelmed.”
I forced a smile back.
Over the years, I’d learned why Mother looked at me the way she did.
They’d tried to keep it quiet, but pack members talked. That was how I learned that the day I was born, my mother lost the ability to have more children.
Even worse was Father.
Once, he had been the Pack’s Beta and commander of the Rogue Soldiers. The night I was born, he lost his wolf. And after, he lost everything else.
Then there was Alina, my beloved sister, the only one who never looked at me and saw a curse. She was past eighteen and still hadn't shifted.
It wasn’t until recently that her boyfriend scented her out, I heard some of the adults talking about it.
The house had felt different all week. Even the servants spoke in whispers, as if they were afraid of jinxing the ceremony scheduled for the next day.
“I’m fine, Alina,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
She reached out, tousling my red hair with a grin. “You’re too smart for your own good, Rom.”
Sometimes I wonder if you’re actually the eldest and I’m just the little sister.”
I laughed again, throwing my arms around Alina just as the door opened and my mother entered again, her eyes red from crying as she walked over to me.
She crouched in front of me and adjusted my collar, pulling it higher to cover the mark. Her fingers trembled when they brushed my skin. “Cover that up well, Romy. We can't let the outsider see that.”
She cupped my face suddenly and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t say all those mean things, it’s not your fault.”
I smiled back.
The mark burned hot against my skin. I wished I could scrub it away…. But I couldn’t.
I leaned into her hand before I could stop myself. “It’s okay, Mommy,” I whispered.
It was easier to forgive her than to wonder if she meant it. But even as I said it, the mark burned a little hotter. Like it didn’t like being hidden. Like it wanted to be seen.
Alina stepped in, her hand warm on my shoulder as she pulled me up. “Hey, enough of this. Let’s go to my room. Rom, I bet I can find a hiding spot you’ll never guess.”
I looked at her, my eyes lighting up. “Hide and seek? Now?”
“Best way to pass the time,” Alina winked, tugging me toward the stairs.
I nodded, clutching my doll tight to my chest as we ran towards her room.
Once the bedroom door clicked shut behind us, the heavy air of the house vanished.
“Alina?” I whispered, my voice barely a thread in the dark. “Are you scared about tomorrow?”
I felt her shift beside me, her shoulder bumping mine. “The ceremony? A little. It’s a lot of pressure, Rom. Everyone is going to be watching the future Luna, waiting for her wolf to finally show up.”
“She’ll come out,” I said softly, “she has to.”
Alina sighed, a soft, shaky sound. “I hope so. A wolf-less Luna… the Pack wouldn't let me hear the end of it. They already whisper about our family enough.”
She went quiet for a moment, then reached out and took my little hands in hers, squeezing them gently. I squeezed back, the thought of her leaving tightening my chest.
I didn’t ask what she meant, I just knew. It was one of the main reasons mom had been so constantly on edge, terrified of the harsh spotlight it put on our family.
“Can I come live with you?” I blurted out, the words catching in my throat. “After the wedding? I could help you with the pack house. I could be… useful.”
I couldn’t see her face, but I felt the sadness in the way her hand tightened on mine. “Oh, Rom,” she murmured, her voice thick with affection. “The Alpha’s estate… It's not like here. It’s full of warriors and Elders. With that mark… it wouldn’t be safe for you there.”
I looked down at my hands. Even in my imagination, the mark came with me. “But I’ll be alone here,” I whispered, the tears I’d been holding back finally stinging my eyes.
“You won’t be alone,” she promised, leaning her head against mine. “I’ll come visiting. Every week, maybe more. I’ll bring you stories from the pack house and those honey cakes you like from the village. I’m not leaving you behind, little raven. I’m just moving a few miles away.”
I nodded, wiping the tears away, standing up alongside Alina. “So, where am I hiding?” I asked.
Alina turned to me. She smiled, her mouth opening to answer my question, when a heavy, violent crash erupted from downstairs.
The sound was jarring enough to rattle the floorboards, snatching the words right out of Alina's mouth. She straightened instantly, her face snapping toward the door before she looked back at me in total confusion.
"What was that?" I asked, my eyes darting to the door as well.
“No idea," Alina murmured, her posture going rigid. "Wait here, I'll go check." She turned on her heel, walking quickly out of the room.
I climbed onto the bed, pulling my doll into my lap. I played with its frayed hair for a while, waiting for Alina to come back and tell me Mother had just dropped something heavy in the kitchen.
Minutes passed. Or maybe it was longer. Time felt thick, like it had slowed down on purpose.
My eyes grew heavy. The mattress dipped where Alina had been sitting earlier. I lay down in her spot and pulled the doll to my chest, breathing in the faint lavender smell from her sheets.
I must have drifted, because the next thing I knew—The door flew open so hard it struck the wall.
I jolted upright just as Alina rushed in, and she didn’t look like herself at all. Her hair was loose from its braid. Her face was pale, her eyes panicked.
She reached me in three strides and grabbed my shoulders. “Alina, did you—”
Alina was right in front of me, her face white. Her hand covered my mouth so tightly I couldn’t breathe.
And for the first time in my life, my sister looked terrified of something.
Rowan povThe darkness that settled over the Stormveil cliffs was absolute, heavy, and freezing, broken only by the fierce, orange glow of the twin ceremonial fire-pits roaring on either side of the ancient stone altar.The pine-scented smoke rose in thick, dark columns toward the cloud-choked sky, carrying the sweet, heavy fragrance of the dried white jasmine garlands that draped the iron perimeter posts.Below the cliffs, the estate was entirely silent–a manufactured, deadly quiet designed to make our home look like a sleeping prize. But as my boots crunched softly against the frost-dusted gravel, my eyes tracked the faint, green glowing lines of the tactical headsets worn by the vanguard sentries stationed in the deep shadows of the wall.I walked the length of the northern parapet, the biting mountain wind whipping my heavy leather coat against my thighs as I conducted my final inspection
Romy povThe wind howling off the Stormveil cliffs tasted of oncoming snow and ozone, whipping the hem of my emerald-green gown against my boots as I stood near the edge of the ancient stone altar. From this height, the entire valley was laid out like a massive, jagged chessboard of gray limestone and dark pine forests, with the winding ribbon of the gully road disappearing into the northern mist. Below us, the estate was a hive of controlled, intense activity; vanguard soldiers were moving crates of ammunition, reinforcing the courtyard walls, and running tactical diagnostics on the perimeter sensors. But on the high cliffside pavilion, a different kind of preparation was underway–one that looked like a celebration, but felt entirely like a trap. "The dress is too light for this weather, Romy," Rowan’s deep voice rumbled behind me, cutting through the rush of the wind as he stepped onto the stone platform, his heavy hand coming down to rest on the small of my back. He had disca
Rowan's POVThe basement vault doors had barely finished sealing shut when the metal staircase leading down from the main garage level shook beneath the weight of approaching footsteps.I knew who it was before they appeared.The scent of wet mountain air reached me first. Cold rain. Diesel fuel. The sharp trace of iron and oil that clung to the heavy canvas jackets of men who had spent hours outside in the storm.Zaric and Maddox. They came through the doorway moments later, both carrying the exhaustion of the southern ridge on their faces. Their boots left streaks of mud across the concrete floor as they moved toward the iron table where Aaron's ancient Hunter records were still spread open.Zaric did not waste time explaining himself. He dropped a mud-covered satellite terminal beside the old leather cylinders, the impact making the parchment edges shift beneath the sudden weight.“We have a problem.” His voice w
RomyThe vault had never felt so small.The stone walls that had protected generations of Stormveil leaders now seemed to close around us, trapping the weight of thirteen years of unanswered questions inside the cold air. The smell of old parchment, iron, and the faint copper scent of preserved records filled my lungs as Aaron kept his finger pressed against the ancient Hunter codex.I stared at the pages in front of me.For most of my life, the night my family died existed only as pieces–a flash of orange light through the nursery window, and the sound of wood collapsing somewhere above me, my sister’s hands shaking as she covered my mouth before I could scream.I had spent thirteen years trying to put those pieces together. I had convinced myself that there had been a reason. A war. A territory dispute. A power struggle between families that ended with my family's blood spilled on the ground. But the pages sitting in front of me made everything worse, because there was nothing simp
Rowan's POVThe last notes of the cello were still hanging inside the glass conservatory when the oak doors opened behind us.I did not turn immediately.For a few more seconds, I kept my hand around Romy's waist and let the waltz finish. Her green dress brushed against my boots as we moved through the final steps, the morning light spilling through the glass roof and catching the red strands of her hair where they rested against my shoulder.It was the first peaceful morning we'd had since the timber mill–the first time I could hold her without wondering if an alarm would sound, a message would arrive, or someone would try to take her from me again.Then I heard footsteps–not the careful steps of servants, not the quiet movement of guards.Heavy. Urgent.Aaron.I turned my head slightly, my chin still resting against Romy's hair.He stood in the doorway with a leather document cylinder tucked beneath his arm. His face had lost all color, his expression carrying the kind of tension th
Romy's POVThe cedar wardrobe doors creaked slightly when I pulled them open with my right hand, my eyes moving over the rows of dark leather tunics and heavy trousers that filled most of my side. A few dresses and silk outfits had somehow found their way between them over the last few months, mostly because Rowan kept insisting that I needed clothes that were not designed for hiding knives.My left hand still throbbed beneath the wooden splint Maddox had tied around my thumb the night before, but the pain had settled enough that I could ignore it when I wanted to.I reached for a simple black wool shirt that would sit comfortably over the bandage and still allow me to strap my ceramic blade beneath the sleeve.“Leave the boring clothes alone, Romy.” Rowan's voice came from behind me, making me pause before I could reach the fabric.I turned and found him leaning against the doorway of the dressing room, alre
Romy pov1:30 AM.My subdued, sullen bridesmaid persona was dead and buried. In its place was Viper and Romy, the girl whose sister was killed by a beast.I stood on the ledge of the adjacent skyscraper, the freezing Buston wind whipping around my dark, skin-tight tactical gear. My face was conceal
Romy pov“Did… did she just reject him?”“Did she reject Alpha Rowan?”“Is she crazy?”“Wait… she’s the Alpha’s mate?”The frantic, horrified whispers of the crowd swept through the grand reception hall like wildfire.Hundreds of pairs of eyes darted between me and the towering Beast of Flames stan
Rowan, 31 "Today is his son's wedding, Alpha. Can we just give him the decency of enjoying a father-of-the-groom day before taking him in for questioning?"Aaron, my Beta and second-in-command, matched my long strides as we turned out of the elevator. I barely paid heed to his words."I don't have
13 years agoRomy povHer chest was heaving with shallow, erratic breaths. She forced the corners of her mouth up into a rigid, unnatural smile, but her lips were trembling so violently she couldn't hide her terror.She kept her hand pressed tightly over my mouth, her wide eyes silently pleading wit







