เข้าสู่ระบบWinnie’s POV
I woke up with a sharp gasp.
It was a nightmare—I was being chased by a group of rogues.
“Shit,” I cussed, turning to the other side of the bed, and just then my eyes flew open.
This is not my bed sheet.
My eyes moved upwards—even the ceiling above me wasn’t mine.
The walls weren’t mine.
The bed definitely wasn’t mine.
For a second, I didn’t move.
Is this some kind of another dream?
I just stared, breathing too fast, with my heart pounding so loud it echoed in my ears.
This is not a dream.
Where the hell was I?
Then last night came rushing back so fast my stomach twisted.
Jason.
The proposal.
The laughter.
Tears running out of my eyes.
The bar.
The drinks.
And that… man.
My chest burned like someone poured fire inside me.
“Oh Moon Goddess,” I yelled, clutching the blanket. “Tell me I didn’t do something stupid with him.”
I shot up so fast that the room spun.
I checked myself first—my clothes were still like they were.
Nothing felt out of place, nothing hurt, nothing was wrong.
So that meant he didn’t touch me.
“Ah, thank goodness!” I let out a shaky breath and pressed a hand to my face.
Then where am I? Why was I brought here? Or did I walk here myself?
That's impossible, I passed out.
What if I had been kidnapped? I winced at the thought.
I climbed off the bed quickly, my legs wobbling under my weight. I walked to the door and realized it was open.
Kidnappers don't leave the doors open, right?
I peeked out before stepping into the white long hallway with doors here and there.
I am in a hotel.
Why would he bring me here?
Why didn’t he just leave me at the bar?
Or dump me at the pack clinic?
Or… leave me on the road like everyone else probably would?
And most importantly, who is this man?
I hurried to the reception desk while trying to look… stable.
“Um… excuse me,” I said softly, “please, may I know who brought me here?”
The woman behind the counter blinked once, then smiled politely.
“I’m sorry, but I am not allowed to reveal client information, miss.”
“Why?” I whispered.
She shook her head.
“Sorry. He insists we protect his privacy.”
Privacy?
Why?
“Why? What if this man did something bad to me? I was drunk when he brought me in,” I said, hoping that would stir something in her, but she stood her ground.
My hands trembled a little as I stepped back.
Everything was confusing.
Everything was too much.
I covered my face and let out a long breath.
Why should my life keep being messy?
I rushed outside and started walking home. The cold air hit my skin like a reminder of everything I wanted to forget.
My aching heart.
Jason’s words.
His face.
His voice.
The cheers.
The way he didn’t even look at me.
When I got home, the silence there felt like a punch.
I went straight to the bathroom, turned on the sink, and stared at my reflection, and the first thing my eyes fell on were…
My lips.
They were on someone's last night.
A stranger’s lips.
“Stupid,” I grunted, “so stupid, Winnie.”
I blinked back the stinging tears while scrubbing the hell out of my lips with my toothbrush.
I just needed to get the feeling of the kiss off my lips.
But I still felt it.
My lips bled uncontrollably, but in a few seconds, they healed.
That's the only thing I love about myself.
If a werewolf lacks a wolf, they are just a human with regular human abilities, no supernatural powers.
But I am special. Even as a pup, I can identify scents, heal easily, run pretty fast, and I also have some strange abilities that I hardly try.
“Ughhh,” I grunted again, throwing the brush away.
I felt the cinnamon scent lingering on my poor clothes that ended up in ashes.
---
The next two weeks were slow and painfully quiet.
I didn’t get to see Jason anymore.
His phone was no longer reachable. It was as if he had disappeared from earth.
He's now a royal family member.
He's no longer mine.
All those words and promises just disappeared.
The more I think about the whole incident, the more I realize how weird everything felt.
It looked like he was controlled, but by whom? And why?
I took my work seriously. The moment I noticed, I was slowly going mad.
My shifts in the hospital were exhausting, but they were distracting as well.
One afternoon, Clara showed up at my door with her fat ginger cat, Meow, stuffed in her arms.
“You’re coming with me,” she commanded before I could argue.
“To where?” I asked.
“To work. The past week had been tears, work, work, and work. You need some fresh air and sunlight before you start decaying.”
I rolled my eyes at her words, though I knew she was right.
So we walked around the park grounds with her cat wobbling on a leash.
It kept tripping over its own fur, and Clara kept laughing like she wanted me to laugh too.
I did.
It wasn’t loud or bright, but it was far better than the fake ones I've been throwing around.
We talked about the hospital, the herbs for treatment, and my dream of opening a herb store someday, even though it feels like a mere fantasy.
Then we talked about Jason.
“I want to get him off my mind, but it's very hard.”
Clara listened quietly, nodding to my words.
“You’re strong, Winnie,” she said softly. “You’ll heal.”
Heal? Would I ever heal?
Maybe she's right.
At least the achy pull in my chest is beginning to soften.
“Hey, come back and bring that here,” I said to Meow, my index finger pointing to the toy she dropped.
The cat strutted to the toy, and a few seconds later the toy was in my hands while she was rubbing against me.
“What the—? She never listens to me that way. You should open a pet daycare, Winnie!” Clara squeaked, her eyes shiny with amazement.
I smiled along, if only she knew that wasn't just a coincidence.
I can actually communicate with animals, one of the weird abilities I possess.
---
One night, two weeks after everything, I sat outside on the porch steps before my house.
Enjoying the feel of the cool breeze against my skin under the moonlight.
And for the first time in a long time, my chest didn’t hurt at all, and I was grateful for it.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
Then—
A strange scent brushed past me.
Cinnamon?
Oh Selene, the Moon Goddess, it was the same as the one in the bar!
My eyes snapped open and my heart stopped as I sprang to my feet.
I was walking around with my ears open, but I couldn't get any sounds or movement, or even a heartbeat.
But the scent lingered… someone was really here.
Not just anyone, but it's the man from the bar.
Who is he?
What does he want from me?
Winnie’s POVThe light of the rising sun caught the pristine surface of the Emissary, fracturing into a million brilliant rainbows across the clearing. The air smelled of morning dew and ancient, crackling ozone. I squeezed Thorne’s hand, feeling the solid, rough texture of his skin. I grounded myself in that touch. I refused to let the sterile perfection of the Architect’s vessel make me feel small.The being of light hovered inches above the emerald moss. It did not project anger, nor did it project mercy. It was an absolute void of emotion, a pure vessel of cosmic calculation.The voice of the High Chorus echoed in the minds of every man, woman, and child standing in the Scrapyard. It was a sound that commanded the very blood in our veins to stand still.“The planetary rotation is complete,” the Emissary intoned. “The variables have been measured. The data has been processed by the High Chorus.”I stepped forward, pulling Thorne and Silas with me. We stood directly in front of
Silas’s POVThe twelve hours before dawn did not feel like a countdown to an execution. They felt like a profound and collective breath drawn by a world that had finally stopped running. We had returned from the Hall of Synthesis with the heavy weight of universal judgment upon our shoulders. Yet, when we stood before the planetary council and the gathered crowds in the Scrapyard to share the news, there was no panic. There were no riots. There was only a deep, abiding stillness.I spent the first few hours of the night walking through the settlement. The architecture of our new capital was a beautiful testament to the synthesis we had argued for in the Emissary's white room. The obsidian structures from the West were draped in the glowing bioluminescent vines of the East. The aerial tethers from the South provided structural support to the towering timber grown from the Northern moss. It was a city built not by a single master plan, but by a million hands working in spontaneous ha
Winnie’s POVThe sterile light of the High Chorus felt heavy, like an ocean of freezing water pressing down on my shoulders. I stepped past Silas, moving to the very center of the amphitheater. “I am here,” I said, my voice echoing through the endless white chamber.“You are the Weaver,” the central pillar resonated. “You contain the frequencies of the North, South, East, and West. Such a concentration of elemental energy within a fragile biological container should have resulted in immediate cellular disintegration. Yet, you persist. Explain this anomaly.”“I persist because I am not a container,” I answered, keeping my gaze fixed on the blinding pillars. “I am a bridge.”“A bridge connects two points,” the third pillar challenged. “Your species is fractured. Even now, your minds are flooded with conflicting emotions. You claim to have united the world, but your internal state is a storm of chaos. Why should we allow this storm to spread to the stars?”They were trying to use
Silas’s POVThe interior of the white monolith did not obey the physical laws of the world we had just left behind. As we stepped through the corridor of blinding radiance, my biological senses struggled to comprehend the geometry of the space around us. There were no corners, no ceilings, and no floors in any traditional sense. We stood in a vast expanse of infinite white, suspended in a sphere of hard light that felt simultaneously as large as a galaxy and as small as a locked cage.“Stay close to me,” Thorne whispered, his hand resting firmly on the hilt of his vibro blade. His voice sounded remarkably small in the endless chamber, absorbed instantly by the pristine walls.“Weapons are meaningless here, Thorne,” I replied, looking down at my obsidian arm. The magmatic heat within my prosthetic limb was pulsing wildly, reacting to the overwhelming sterile energy of the room. “We are standing inside a quantum calculation. The Hall of Synthesis is not a physical courtroom. It is a
Thorne’s POVI watched the white monolith descend, and for the first time in my life, I felt completely and utterly insignificant. The vessel did not burn with the violent reentry flames that accompanied the Owners’ ships. It parted the atmosphere like a master stepping into a quiet room. It was beautiful, terrifying, and absolute.I gripped the hilt of my vibro blade, my knuckles turning white beneath my leather gloves. It was an involuntary reaction, a reflex born of three hundred years of survival, but I knew the weapon at my side was nothing more than a toy compared to the power hovering above us.“Hold your fire,” I ordered, my voice broadcasting through the Vanguard comms network. “Nobody moves until I say so. Keep your weapons lowered. We do not provoke.”The Vanguard formed a wide perimeter around the massive clearing at the edge of the Scrapyard. Ignis had her soldiers ready with their thermal spears glowing a dull, angry red. The monolith touched down on the emerald mo
Winnie’s POVThe sky above the Northern Sector had transformed entirely. It was no longer the suffocating grey cage of our youth, nor was it the bruised purple battleground of the recent war. It was a vast canvas of vibrant blue, painted with the gentle white strokes of high altitude clouds. I stepped off the ramp and felt the pulse of the earth beneath my boots. It was steady and strong, carrying the rhythmic hum of the four united Seeds. But while the ground felt like a safe harbor, the stars above were whispering a different story. The pavilion was bathed in the warm light of the afternoon sun. Kross stood tall near the entrance, his yellow eyes scanning the horizon with the practiced caution of a man who had spent his life defending the clouds. “They will be here in less than forty-eight hours,” Silas announced to the room. He stood at the head of the table, his new obsidian arm resting flat against the dark stone. “The trajectory is absolute. The vessels are decelerating,
Cassian’s POVI had never felt so useless. I stood on the balcony of the Obsidian Hall, watching as my wife drifted upward like a dying star to meet the fleet of the West. My skin was cold, my blood felt like slush, and the space where my shadows used to be was an ache that never stopped throbbin
Cassian’s POVBeing human was a special kind of hell that I had forgotten existed.Without the shadows to dull the world, everything was far too sharp. The cold bit into my skin like a thousand needles, and the light of the sun on the snow was a blinding glare that made my head throb. Even the s
Winnie’s POVThe silence that followed the destruction of the Western fleet was heavier than the snow. It was a thick, suffocating blanket that pressed against my lungs, smelling of scorched iron and the salt-bitter tang of the deep ocean. I sat on the frozen edge of the docks, my hand resting on
Thorne’s POVThe North was exactly as we had left it—cold, unforgiving, and silent. But the silence felt wrong. It wasn’t the peaceful hush of a snowfall; it was the bated breath of a predator waiting in the brush. I stood on the splintered deck of the North Star, the wood beneath my paws still h







