LOGINThird Person POV Calla crept down the wooden stairs that night, her bare feet silent on the old planks. The house was dark except for the faint glow of a single lantern in the living room. She had hoped everyone would be asleep. She just wanted some fresh air, a moment alone under the stars to clear her head after another long day of travelling and all the emotional stress.But he was there.Her father sat slumped in the old armchair, a half-empty bottle of harsh liquor clutched in his calloused hand. The sharp smell of alcohol hung heavy in the air, mixing with the stale scent of unwashed clothes and regret. His eyes were bloodshot, his face flushed and twisted with that familiar mix of bitterness and anger.Calla’s stomach tightened. She tried to slip past quietly, heading straight for the back door.“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was low and slurred, but sharp enough to stop her.She froze, hand hovering near the door handle.“I’m just going outside for some air,”
Third Person POV Blade stood at the edge of the training grounds, arms crossed over his broad chest, his sharp eyes fixed on the distant tree line. The morning sun filtered through the leaves, casting shifting patterns on the dirt beneath his boots. Around him, the pack moved with their usual disciplined energy … sparring, running drills, sharpening blades under the watchful eyes of the elders.Tanya approached again, her long dark hair swaying with each step, a bright smile on her face that had once made his blood run hot. Today, it only irritated him.“Blade,” she called, voice sweet and hopeful. “I brought you some water. You’ve been training since dawn. You should rest a little.”She held out the canteen, stepping closer than necessary, her fingers brushing his arm deliberately.Blade didn’t even glance at her. He kept his gaze locked on the horizon, jaw tight.“I’m not thirsty,” he said flatly, voice cold.Tanya’s smile faltered for a second, but she recovered quickly, steppin
Third Person POV Blade stood at the edge of the training grounds, arms crossed over his broad chest, his sharp eyes fixed on the distant tree line. The morning sun filtered through the leaves, casting shifting patterns on the dirt beneath his boots. Around him, the pack moved with their usual disciplined energy … sparring, running drills, sharpening blades under the watchful eyes of the elders.Tanya approached again, her long dark hair swaying with each step, a bright smile on her face that had once made his blood run hot. Today, it only irritated him.“Blade,” she called, voice sweet and hopeful. “I brought you some water. You’ve been training since dawn. You should rest a little.”She held out the canteen, stepping closer than necessary, her fingers brushing his arm deliberately.Blade didn’t even glance at her. He kept his gaze locked on the horizon, jaw tight.“I’m not thirsty,” he said flatly, voice cold.Tanya’s smile faltered for a second, but she recovered quickly, steppin
Third Person POV Calla stood in front of the old wooden door of the Tonks manor, her heart beating fast. The building looked even more run-down up close … cracked walls, peeling paint, and overgrown weeds choking the garden. The journey had been long and cold, but she had made it. Adele clung to her side, small hand holding hers tightly. The little girl looked around with wide, curious eyes, but stayed quiet.Calla took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The sound echoed inside the house. She waited. No answer. The wind blew gently, carrying the scent of damp wood and neglect.She knocked again, louder this time. Still nothing.After a long moment, she heard slow, unsteady footsteps from inside. The door creaked open. Her father stood there, eyes bloodshot from drink, clothes wrinkled and stained. His face went from confusion to immense surprise when he saw her. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again.“Calla?” he whispered, voice hoarse. “Is that really you?”Calla
Calla's POV I rode into the old town with Adele tucked safely in front of me, her small body wrapped tightly in my coat. The wind pushed my long curly brown hair back as we crossed the familiar bridge. But the moment we entered the main street, I felt a shock run through me. Everything had changed so much since I left three years ago.The streets that used to be lively with market stalls and laughing children now looked worn and gray. Many shops were boarded up. The paint on the houses was peeling. People walked with their heads down, faces tired and thin. Even the air felt heavier. I remembered this place as bustling and full of life. Now it felt like a shadow of what it used to be.I slowed the horse, looking around in confusion. I wasn’t sure where to go first. The old family manor was on the outskirts, but the roads looked different. Some paths I remembered were blocked or overgrown.I pulled Adele closer, shielding her more with my coat. She was quiet, sensing my unease, her
Third Person POV Calla and Lira sat together in the quiet corner of the library, the lantern casting a soft, warm glow between them. The heavy books and old scrolls felt like a safe haven from the chaos outside. After their light-hearted talk about feelings, the conversation slowly grew quieter. Calla stared at the flame for a moment, gathering her thoughts.She finally spoke, voice hesitant. “Lira… can I ask you something serious?”Lira tilted her head, her kind eyes attentive. “Of course. Anything.”Calla took a small breath. “What is really going on with the war? I keep hearing whispers, but no one gives me the full picture. How bad is it?”Lira was quiet for a second, as if deciding how much to say.Lira’s expression changed. The playful smile faded. She leaned forward, keeping her voice low. “It’s getting worse, Calla. It started small … border skirmishes, rebel groups complaining about taxes and food shortages. But now it’s spreading. People are tired. They’re evacuating vill
Calla’s POVThe cab rolled to a stop at the edge of Central Station and I had the door open before the wheels had fully settled.“Thank you,” I told the driver.He didn’t respond. His eyes were already back on the road, his radio already being switched to a different station. Whether that was guilt
Calla’s POVI had never been a woman who packed slowly.In another life, before Ash Creek, before Blade Blackthorn and breeder arrangements and gilded cages dressed up as fairy tale rooms… I used to help my mother pack up the house every time my father’s debts caught up with us. We moved four time
Calla’s POVI don’t want to let her go. Every instinct I have screams at me to keep holding her but I force myself back, pressing myself against the foot of the bed as the healer drops to his knees beside Adele.His name is Godfrey. He’s been the pack’s healer for thirty years. I have never seen hi
Calla’s POVThe word lands like a stone thrown into still water. Engaged.For a moment, I don’t breathe. I don’t move. The phone feels impossibly heavy in my hand, and somewhere far away, I can hear Bianca still talking … rapid, breathless words that blur together into meaningless noise.“Calla? C







