Rhea

The Packhouse bedroom felt too big when it was just me inside. The high ceilings, the velvet-draped windows, the carved runes glowing faintly along the walls and ceiling — it was supposed to feel safe. Protected. But all it did was remind me that I wasn’t in control. Not of this room. Not of them. Not of myself.

I lay sprawled across the silk sheets, my silver hair a halo around me, staring at the ceiling like the answers were hidden in the grain of the wood. My chest still hummed with the aftershocks of the Night Market — the heat of Seth pressed close, Rory’s teasing grin softening at the edges, Callum’s steady gaze grounding me, Jaxon’s storm-dark presence shadowing every step I took.

It was too much. Too much and not enough, all at once.

My heart felt… cracked. Like something inside me had split open, a hairline fracture running straight through. And I couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. Was it healing, finally letting someone in after years of walls and barbed wire? Or was it just another break waiting to shatter me completely?

The bond pulled tight in my chest again, reminding me it wasn’t going anywhere. Not them. Not us.

I sat up, dragging my knees to my chest, arms wrapping around them. My wolf stirred restlessly, restless with the silence, restless with me. She wanted them. All of them. She didn’t care about logic or fear or my bruised heart. She only cared about the bond.

But me? I still cared about the cracks.

A soft knock broke through my spiral.

“Come in,” I called, my voice steadier than I felt.

The door creaked open. And there they were.

Callum first, shoulders filling the doorway, calm as ever but his storm-grey eyes scanning me like he was counting the breaths I took. Jaxon just behind him, silent, his presence heavier than the shadows that seemed to follow him. Rory leaned against the doorframe, grin tugging at his mouth but not reaching his eyes. And Seth — last, as always, sauntering in like he owned the room, his smirk wide and sharp enough to cut.

They didn’t say anything at first. Just… looked. Four pairs of eyes on me, four wolves humming under their skin, four bonds tugging on mine like a net.

“How are you?” Callum asked finally, his voice low, controlled. Always controlled.

I let out a humorless laugh. “Loaded question.”

Seth raised a brow, pushing off the wall and flopping onto the bed beside me like he belonged there. “Answer it anyway, snowflake.”

I shoved at his shoulder half-heartedly, but he didn’t budge. “I don’t know. Better. Worse. Both.”

Rory stepped closer, perching at the edge of the bed. “That sounds like progress, Princess.”

“Or a breakdown,” I muttered.

Jaxon’s voice rumbled from the corner, dark and rough. “Sometimes they’re the same thing.”

The honesty in his tone hit harder than I expected. I swallowed, looking down at my hands. “I’m trying,” I admitted quietly. “I told you I would, and I am. But… I’m still scared. I don’t know what to do with this.”

“The bond?” Callum asked.

“All of it,” I said. “The bond. You. Me. The way everyone looks at me like I’m already Luna when I can’t even make it through a partial shift without collapsing. The way you four…” My throat tightened. “The way you make me feel things I shouldn’t. Things I don’t know if I can survive.”

Silence. Heavy. Charged.

Then Rory leaned closer, his grin softening. “You’ll survive us, Princess. You’ll more than survive. You’ll shine.”

Heat rushed up my neck, my chest aching at the earnestness in his voice. Another crack.

I shook my head, trying to hide behind sarcasm. “You’re too cocky.”

“True,” he said easily.

“Too reckless,” I added.

“Also true,” he said, still grinning.

Despite myself, I laughed, the sound breaking the tension for a moment.

My gaze flicked to Seth. “And you. You never stop pushing.”

He smirked, leaning closer. “Because you need it, snowflake. You hide behind those walls like they’ll keep you safe, but all they do is keep you from breathing.”

I hated that he was right.

Then Jaxon. His eyes caught mine, unblinking, relentless. “And me?” he asked, voice low.

“You terrify me,” I whispered.

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. “Good. Fear means you see me clearly. But it also means you’ll know when to trust me. Because I’d never hurt you, sunshine. Not in the ways that matter.”

The bond hummed, hot and sharp, and my chest ached with the truth of it.

Finally, my eyes landed on Callum. Steady. Solid. Always watching. “And you,” I said softly. “You’re too much. Too steady. Too strong. You look at me like you’re already carrying my weight, and I don’t know if I want you to.”

“You don’t have to,” he said simply. “But I will anyway.”

The room was too warm. My heart was cracking wider, the pieces shifting, rearranging. And I didn’t know if it was breaking me or saving me.

I needed air.

I pushed off the bed, pacing to the window. My reflection stared back at me in the glass — silver hair, tired eyes, markless neck. Not a Luna. Not yet. Maybe never.

But when I turned back to them, they were still watching. Waiting. Hoping.

And something in me… softened. Just a little.

“I don’t know if I can call you mine,” I admitted. “Not yet. But maybe… maybe I can call you something.”

Seth raised a brow. “Like what?”

“Nicknames,” I said, shrugging. “You keep throwing them at me — sunshine, snowflake, princess, little Luna. Maybe it’s my turn.”

Jaxon tilted his head, curious. “And what would you call us?”

I took a breath, steadying myself, then pointed at him first. “You’re Shadow. Because you’re always there, always watching, even when you think you’re hiding. Dark, dangerous, but… steady in your own way.”

His lips curved faintly, approval glinting in his eyes.

I turned to Rory. “You’re Spark. Because you never stop lighting me up, even when I don’t want to laugh. You’re reckless and cocky and too much, but… you make me feel alive.”

His grin softened into something real, something warm.

Then Seth. “You’re Storm. Because you never stop pushing, never stop crashing against my walls. You drive me insane, but you make me move when I’d rather stay stuck.”

His smirk flickered into something softer, almost proud.

Finally, Callum. “And you… you’re Stone. Because you’re unshakable. Solid. The one thing that doesn’t move when everything else does. Sometimes it scares me, how much you carry, but… it also makes me feel like maybe I don’t have to do it all alone.”

His jaw tightened, his storm-grey eyes darkening, but his voice was steady. “Stone,” he repeated softly.

I nodded, my chest tight, heart cracked wide open.

“I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” I whispered. “But it’s something.”

For a long moment, no one spoke. The bond pulsed between us, hot and sharp and undeniable.

And for the first time, I didn’t fight it.