"Lila, breathe." The voice was steady, but she barely heard it over the pounding in her ears. Her heart raced, the erratic beeping of the monitor beside her growing louder with every second. She stared at them—both of them. Lucas. Jake. My mates. Her mind struggled to piece it together, to make sense of why the two men she had vowed to hate stood on either side of her bed, watching her like she was something fragile. This couldn’t be real. "Lila," Jake said her name softly, stepping closer. Something inside her reacted—a rush of warmth, a pull so deep it made her breath hitch. Her wolf. Her traitorous wolf, who had spent years snarling in anger at the mention of them, was now purring at their presence. No. No, no, no. Her breathing quickened. The beeping of the monitor spiked again. Jake's expression darkened with concern, and then—before she could stop him—his hand was on her face. The second his skin touched hers, everything inside her exploded. ---
“Lila? Can you hear me?”The voice was deep, steady—one she should recognize.She tried to open her eyes, but her body felt impossibly heavy, like she was sinking into an ocean with no way to reach the surface. Everything around her blurred between reality and dreams.A hand brushed her hair back gently. The touch sent warmth through her, a sensation she didn’t expect.“It’s okay,” the voice murmured. “Just rest.”She wanted to fight it. To demand answers. But exhaustion pulled her back into the dark.The next time she woke, the light was dim, but the air in the room was thick with something—something familiar.She shifted slightly, wincing at the dull ache in her body. Her senses sharpened just enough to notice the presence beside her.Jake.His head was lowered, his breathing even, but she knew he wasn’t asleep. He was waiting. Watching.Her throat was dry when she spoke. “You’re always here.”His head lifted immediately, his blue eyes locking onto hers.“You finally noticed?” he sai
“You’re beautiful.” Lila’s breath caught. She turned sharply to look at Jake, expecting to see amusement or sarcasm in his expression. Instead, he was watching her with a look so raw it sent a shiver down her spine. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “I look like hell.” Jake’s eyes didn’t waver. “You don’t.” She scoffed, lifting her metal arm. The artificial fingers curled and uncurled, the movement eerily smooth. “You see this?” She tapped the metal plating, the sound hollow. “This isn’t beautiful. This is ruin.” His jaw tightened. “You’re not ruined, Lila.” She turned away, unable to look at him. How could he say that? Her skin was pale, her lips cracked, her face swollen from the weeks of unconsciousness. And now—this thing attached to her body, a constant reminder of everything she had lost. Jake reached out, but she shifted away before he could touch her. “I don’t need your pity.” “It’s not pity,” he said softly. “It’s the truth.” She clenched her jaw. H
“You’re not even listening.”Lucas blinked, forcing his mind back to the present. Across the desk, Caleb—the pack’s beta—was watching him with barely concealed irritation.“I heard you,” Lucas said, though he wasn’t sure that was true.Caleb exhaled sharply. “Alright. What did I just say?”Lucas stared at the documents scattered before him. Reports on pack affairs, financial records, and the latest updates on the false money laundering accusations. Important things. Things he should be focusing on.But all he could think about was her.“Lucas.” Caleb’s voice cut through his thoughts again.Lucas sighed and ran a hand down his face. “The accounts are still frozen. We’re being investigated. Lawrence left a mess.” He gestured vaguely at the papers. “Did I miss anything?”Caleb crossed his arms. “Only the part where we need a plan.”A plan. Right.Lucas tried to concentrate, but his mind kept drifting. A month. It had been over a month since the explosion. Over a month since Lila had been
"I want to leave." Lila’s voice was quiet but firm, cutting through the sterile silence of the hospital room. Jake, who had been adjusting the blanket around her, stilled. His eyes met hers, searching. "You’re not ready." "I don’t care." Her hands trembled as she gripped the sheet, but she refused to let the weakness show. "I can’t stay here." Jake sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Lila—" "I feel like I’m suffocating," she interrupted. "The beeping machines, the doctors poking at me, the way they look at me—like I’m broken. I can’t take it anymore." Jake hesitated, and for a moment, she thought he would argue. Then, after a long pause, he spoke. "You’re being discharged tomorrow." Relief crashed into her so hard she nearly choked on it. "Tomorrow?" He nodded. "Lucas and I arranged it." Her stomach twisted at the mention of his name. "Lucas," she repeated, voice flat. Jake watched her carefully. "You’ll be coming with us." The relief died instantly. Lila’
The house was bigger than she expected. Warm lighting. Large windows. A fire crackling in the living room. It felt… lived in. Jake carried her bag upstairs, stopping in front of a door. "This is yours." Lila stepped inside without a word. The room was simple. A bed. A dresser. A window overlooking the forest. It was nice. Too nice. She hated it. She turned to face Jake. "How long do I have to stay?" Jake hesitated. "As long as it takes." "For what?" "For you to heal." Her chest tightened. "And after that?" Jake’s expression darkened, but before he could answer, Lucas spoke from the doorway. "You’ll leave," he said, voice unreadable. Lila turned to him, startled by his presence. He was leaning against the frame, arms crossed, watching her with that same guarded expression. Something sharp twisted in her stomach. Lucas held her gaze. "If that’s what you want." She should have felt relieved. She should have felt something like victory, like freedom w
Lila set the dagger back on the table, narrowing her eyes at the mess of blueprints and scattered wires. "This place looks like a bomb went off," she muttered. Jake smirked. "It’s organized chaos." She shot him a skeptical look. "That’s just something people say when they don’t want to admit they live in a disaster zone." He chuckled. "Maybe. But it works for me." Lila wasn’t sure what she had expected from Jake’s personal space, but this… it was something entirely different. It wasn’t just a collection of weapons or tech—it was a reflection of him. A mix of precision and unpredictability. Her gaze flickered back to the empty space where a bed should be. "You seriously don’t sleep?" she asked again, this time more curious than before. Jake leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. "Not much." "Why?" He hesitated for a second, then shrugged. "Too much to do." Lila frowned. That wasn’t the whole truth. "You mean too much to think about," she guessed. Jake’s s
"This place is... homey." The second the word left her mouth, Lila wanted to take it back. Her lips parted as if she could snatch it from the air, but Jake was already staring at her, one eyebrow raised, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Homey?" he echoed, a slow smirk forming. "Did you just say you like it?" Lila scowled. "No." "You did." She shook her head, looking away. "I meant—it’s livable. Barely. Don’t get ahead of yourself." Jake didn’t say anything, but she could feel his eyes on her, studying her in that way that made her want to squirm. Not that she would. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She stepped further into the room, trailing her fingers along the edge of the wooden dresser. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was sturdy, well-crafted. The bed looked—comfortable. Too comfortable. She sat down cautiously, testing the mattress. A sigh slipped out before she could stop it. Jake chuckled. "Oh, so now the bed is nice too?" "Shut up," she muttered, try
Lila followed Arika up the ramp, her boots clinking softly against the grated metal, heart thudding louder with each step. Something in Arika’s voice lingered like smoke—too calm, too measured. She didn’t trust it. Not for a second.“You keep the data onboard?” Lila asked, eyes flicking to the wall-mounted surveillance cams. The ship’s interior was sleek but sterile, with black paneling and chrome fixtures. Cold. Like its owner.“No,” Arika said, stopping at a narrow corridor. “I keep my insurance onboard.”She keyed a code into the control pad, and a mechanical hiss broke the silence. A door slid open, revealing a freight elevator platform.“After you,” Arika said with a mock bow.Lila stepped in cautiously, hand still near her weapon. The platform hummed, descending smoothly into the ship’s belly. A few seconds passed in silence. Arika didn’t move. Didn’t smile.Then the metal chamber opened—and Lila’s breath caught.Rows of blinking machines lined the container-sized space. The ser
The Vault’s Truth:Arika’s voice cut through the still air like a blade. “You ever stop and ask yourself what the point of it all is?”Lila didn’t answer immediately. The faint hum of the servers was the only sound between them. Outside, the snow still howled, muffled through thick bunker walls. Her fingers hovered over the tablet screen, pulling fragments of data—locations, funds, faces of corrupt officials—but her mind was already one step ahead.“I used to,” she said finally, gaze still fixed on the display. “I used to think the world was rotten to the core. That maybe if I set a match to everything, it’d feel better.”Arika snorted. “It doesn’t.”“No,” Lila agreed, voice softer now. “It just burns you with it.”That silenced Arika for a beat. Lila glanced over, catching the flicker of doubt that cracked through her sister’s sarcasm.“You sound like one of those therapy podcasts the Alphas play for their anxious mates.”“I sound like someone who’s been burned before.” Lila turned o
Frostbite and Fireworks:"“You sure you’re not walking me into a trap?”Lila’s voice cut through the storm, low and razor-sharp, carried on the wind like a blade tossed by fate."Would I waste this much time just to kill you?” Arika replied without glancing back, her silhouette a blur through the thick curtain of snow. “Don’t flatter yourself.”"You’ve done worse for less."Lila adjusted the grip on her sidearm beneath her coat, every muscle coiled. “And you still haven’t answered how you got the servers out of here without leaving a trail.”"You'll see.”It wasn’t a tease. It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise laced with something darker—familiar, dangerous, and maddeningly vague.The snowstorm howled around them like a feral thing, wind battering exposed skin and biting through layers as they trudged deeper into the derelict port grounds. Long-dead cranes loomed like rusted sentinels, skeletal and forgotten. The place reeked of salt, decay, and memory.Lila kept scanning—trees, rooft
The locket in Arika’s hand glinted one last time in the fading light before she tucked it into the folds of her coat, her fingers twitching as though the cold no longer bothered her—just the past that still clung to her skin.But Lila wasn’t finished.Not yet.She turned slowly, like a predator toying with a rival too confident for her own good. “You know,” she said conversationally, her voice laced with honeyed venom, “for someone who prides herself on good taste, I’m surprised you didn’t notice the warning signs.”Arika’s head tilted. “What signs?”Lila’s smile was all razor-edge charm. “Oh, just that Salicus was riddled with diseases. Biochemical ones. I should know—I left him with a few.”The blow landed with precision. A flicker of something passed through Arika’s expression—a stutter in her breath, a twitch at the corner of her mouth. She masked it quickly, but not quickly enough.“You’re bluffing,” Arika said, voice clipped.“Am I?” Lila stepped closer, letting her words drip.
Lila’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. That sentence—so personal, so venomous—stuck in her like a blade wedged between ribs.Arika didn’t wait for her to recover. She turned and walked slowly toward the edge of the clearing, her fingers brushing the frost-covered rail of a long-abandoned cargo lift. The silence between them thickened.“I had a guest once,” Arika called over her shoulder, too casual. “You might know him. Salicus Grante.”Lila’s body snapped to attention.The name landed like a hammer.“You’re lying.”Arika looked back, one eyebrow raised. “Am I?”“Salicus is dead.”Arika gave a mocking little shrug. “Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night? Or just what you hope is true?”Lila took a shaky step forward. Her pulse thundered in her ears. “Where. Did. You. See. Him.”“Here. There. Doesn’t matter,” Arika said. “He’s a wanderer. A very persistent one. Had a few... interesting stories about you, too. I see where you get your taste in men.”Lila’s hands
Chapter Title: Blood Tides and Buried Truths"You look older than I imagined. The cold's not kind to you, huh?"Lila’s voice cut through the air, sharp as shattered ice.Arika smirked, slow and poisonous. “And you still greet people like you’re handing out ultimatums.”“I only greet the ones who fake their deaths and sell lies for a living.”Arika’s eyes flicked down her nose, unfazed. “Still bitter, I see. At least that hasn’t aged.”The wind between them twisted, biting through cloth and bone alike. They stood ten paces apart in the heart of the abandoned clearing, surrounded by cracked concrete and frost-covered crates. The silence of the ruin only emphasized how violently the past clawed its way into the present.“You died,” Lila said, voice low now. Controlled. “That’s what they told me. What you let them tell me.”“They weren’t wrong,” Arika replied smoothly. “Not entirely.”Lila scoffed. “You faked your death and vanished. What else was I supposed to believe?”“That I had a rea
The cold gnawed at Lila’s exposed cheeks as she emerged from the warehouse’s side exit and stepped into the clearing.A vast, open yard stretched before her.Flat, white, endless.The area must have once been the central cargo bay—a wide slab of cracked concrete now buried beneath ice and powdery snow. Massive tracks were etched faintly beneath the layers, ghost-lines of long-dead machinery. Here, where shipments had once been loaded, goods transferred, and orders barked, now only wind howled and silence ruled.She stepped forward slowly.Her boots sank with every crunching step, leaving deep impressions behind her. The expanse was so open, it felt vulnerable. Naked. No cover. No shadows to slip into. Just the broad chest of the clearing exposed to the grey sky overhead.Lila exhaled through her nose, eyes scanning left to right, then back again.No movement.No signs.And yet her pulse wouldn’t slow.Something didn’t add up.If this was Arika’s meeting point, where the hell was the e
The snow swallowed their steps as they began to move again.None of them spoke.The world had gone eerily still, as if holding its breath. Lila led the way, eyes narrowed against the wind, with Jake close behind her left shoulder and Lucas covering their right flank. Their boots crunched against the crusted snow, the only sound in an otherwise dead landscape.With every step forward, the forest behind them shrank, consumed by the encroaching white.“This is madness,” Jake muttered under his breath, his voice muffled beneath his scarf. “Visibility’s garbage. We’re tracking straight into open ground. Arika wants us blind.”“She wants a meeting,” Lila shot back, not looking over her shoulder. “And I’m not turning back.”Lucas scanned the tree line one last time before sighing. “Yeah, well, if we die out here in the snow, at least it’ll be poetic.”The wind howled in answer.Their pace slowed as the ground sloped downward, snow now knee-deep. Every few steps, one of them stumbled. Lila’s
Lila froze.The crimson dot shimmered against her coat, small but deadly. Her breath caught in her throat, her muscles wound tight. Not a single sound echoed behind her—no footsteps, no shouts, no signs of the guards or her brothers intervening. Just that quiet, icy stillness and the whine of wind over rusted steel.Where are you, Arika? she thought, pulse hammering.She didn’t raise her hands. She didn’t flinch. Instead, she stared up at the ridge. “You’re not going to shoot me,” she said, her voice even despite the cold in her spine. “If you were, you already would have.”A long beat of silence. Then a laugh—faint, hollow, metallic.The laser dot vanished.Lila exhaled slowly. Her hand dropped to her side, fingers brushing the outline of her weapon, but she didn’t draw it. That would only escalate things. She was here for answers, not war. Still, her unease grew by the second. Not because of the target on her chest.But because her wolf was silent.Utterly.Painfully.Silent.Why ar