A SECOND FLAME

Veyra Hale dreamed in shadows now.

In the quietest hours of the night, she lay motionless in her bed, but her soul wandered far from the safety of the small cabin tucked deep into the forest's edge. The dreams had started two nights ago—after the festival. After Lioren.

In her vision, five figures stood in a circle around her. Each of them loomed tall, their forms cloaked in mist, their eyes glowing with distinct colors: crimson, silver, obsidian, deep gold, and sapphire. None of them spoke. They only watched her. Their presence didn't feel threatening—it felt inevitable. Like destiny had wrapped her in their chains and tossed the key into the moonlight.

She woke with a gasp, breathless, clutching at her chest as if she could pull the lingering sensation from her skin. Her wolf, usually quiet, now stirred with hunger and alertness. Something inside her had awakened. Magic, Maelin had called it. The mark of her kind—the rare, myth-bound white wolf.

And now, with each bond that formed, that magic surged to the surface.

⸻

The morning air outside smelled of pine, damp soil, and tension. The type of tension that made Elias pace the perimeter of their property, his eyes always scanning, always watching. Since the festival, he'd doubled patrols, even going so far as to cast protective wards over the trees with Maelin's help.

Veyra stepped onto the back porch, her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders. "He's still out there, isn't he?" she asked.

Maelin appeared behind her, her own cloak fluttering in the soft breeze. "Your father? He hasn't slept in two nights. He knows what Lioren is."

"Does Jon know?"

Maelin nodded slowly. "He returned from his scouting route last night. He's speaking with Elias now. I think... he's angry. But not at you."

Veyra's throat tightened. She hadn't even told her brother everything yet. About the dreams. About the wild flutter in her chest when she looked into Lioren's icy eyes. Or how Kael's fire still lingered, burning bright in her memory.

Her body felt like it was being pulled in too many directions. Magic stirred like a tidal wave beneath her skin, aching for release. Her wolf clawed at the surface, wanting more—more touch, more bond, more purpose.

The bonds don't just call to the heart, they awaken the soul.

Her mother's words echoed louder each day.

⸻

By mid-morning, the border sentries sent word: Lioren had returned. He wasn't alone.

He arrived at the Moonfang Pack's southern gate with three members of his delegation. All were dressed in the muted greys of the Ashfang Pack, a color that signified diplomacy—but every warrior knew the dagger beneath those robes. They were not merely emissaries. They were scouts. Spies. And if Lioren was leading them, then they were also predators.

Elias met them at the gate, his shoulders broad, his face carved from stone. "To what do we owe the visit, Beta Lioren?"

Lioren smiled. "I come bearing gifts. Trade. Perhaps a renewed conversation on our shared hunting lands. Surely Moonfang does not want another winter of thin prey lines."

Elias didn't blink. "We manage."

"Then perhaps I am simply here for the pleasure of company."

"That would be a first."

Lioren's eyes sparkled with something unreadable. "You wound me, Hale."

But Elias wasn't moved. He turned sharply, gesturing for them to follow. "You'll speak with the Council. Not with my daughter."

At that, Lioren tilted his head ever so slightly. "Of course," he said smoothly. "Politics first."

⸻

Veyra watched from her place in the shadows. Her mother had hidden her aura with a fresh enchantment this morning—thick sage and vervain soaked into her skin, masking her from anyone seeking a bond connection.

Still, when she saw Lioren, something tugged deep in her ribcage.

He was composed. Calculated. But there was a hunger in the way he scanned the trees. He wasn't looking for prey. He was looking for her.

Later that evening, as the sun dipped low behind the treeline, Veyra found herself alone in the training clearing behind their home. She often came here when the world felt too loud. Her brother had trained her here since she was ten—showing her how to fight, how to move, how to disappear.

She didn't hear him approach.

"You move like a whisper," Lioren said, emerging from the trees.

Veyra spun, heart slamming against her ribs. "You shouldn't be here."

"Probably not." He stepped closer, hands at his sides, unthreatening. "But then, neither should you."

She narrowed her eyes. "You came for politics."

He smiled faintly. "I came for you."

The words hung heavy between them.

Veyra took a step back. "You don't know me."

"I know enough," he said softly. "I know that the moment I saw you, the bond began to take shape. I know that my wolf hasn't rested since that night. And I know that you feel it too."

Veyra looked away, fighting the trembling in her hands. "It doesn't matter what I feel. None of this is supposed to happen."

Lioren moved closer but kept his distance. "You're not just anyone, Veyra. I can feel it. And if I can... others will too."

She froze.

There was something about the way he said it. As if he already knew what she was. Or at least, suspected.

"How?" she whispered. "How can you feel it?"

He watched her, his gaze unreadable. "Because I've spent my life hunting shadows. Secrets. You shine through both."

Veyra's heart thudded violently. "You should leave. Before my father finds you here."

He nodded once. "I will. But I'll be back."

As he turned and disappeared into the forest, his final words echoed like thunder.

"You can't hide what you are forever."

⸻

Veyra stood alone beneath the full moon, the cool night wind brushing her skin like a whisper from the gods.

She was a secret born of ancient magic. A girl on the edge of destiny.

And one by one, her mates were finding her.

But how many more would come?

And how long until the world learned what she truly was?

The white wolf was waking.

And the world would never be the same.

_______

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How was the chapter? Lioren isn't backing down. He just wants his mate.

How long can they keep him away from his mate?

How long can Veyra resist?

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