Chapter Five: The Truth 

I just couldn't let go the feeling.

The anklet was hidden so well, and it was as though it had been waiting there for me to discover it.

My mother's anklet—she had it on every waking and sleeping day of her life.

I could still remember the soft jingle of it when she moved-a quiet reminder of her presence. It was as if some part of her had been left with it, buried in this place.

And now, it was in my hands.

That moment I found it, I knew my parents didn't die ordinary deaths. I knew I could see things from dreams; it was another power I'd inherited from my mother.

Which was why I wanted to know about the man I'd seen in my dream. But how to find him?

I hadn't even seen his face.

But why would they have her anklet? What were they hiding?

I didn't even want to think that they, perhaps, have been buried. Without me.

I stared at the glittering curves of the anklet, my fingers following the delicate patterns; the more I thought, however, the more questions arose.

Regrettably, there were no answers.

A soft creak of floorboards drew me back from my reflections. I looked up, and there he was-Frey.

He had been weirdly quiet all morning, following me around like some shadow, but now his eyes were on me, studying me like some puzzle he was dying to unravel.

"You've been quiet," he said, his voice low almost casual, but there was something more to it-something sharp in his gaze that made me nervous. "More than usual."

I tried to act casual, but I felt my hands shake. I pushed the anklet hard into my pocket. The cold metal bit into my skin. "I'm all right."

"You sure about that?" Behind me, his feet beat out a cadence as he stepped to close the distance between us. "You seem. distant. More than usual.

I turned away from him, my gaze falling on the trees outside. The air was thick with the scent of pine-the breeze carried the distant call of a bird-but none of it could ease the tightness in my chest.

I was suddenly so aware that he was standing so close.

I could feel his gaze on me, as if it had weight to it, pressing down upon my shoulders. "What do you want, Frey?"

"You've been acting strange," he reiterated, his tone now laced with something else-concern, maybe? Or maybe it was just curiosity. 

I still did not understand Frey Storm, and didn't trust him. But it was nice to have him around.

And he made sure to stay around. I wasn't sure yet how that made me feel.

 "You've been acting like you're hiding something. Is it the anklet? You find something interesting?"

I stiffened. "What are you talking about?

"Come on, Selene." There was a faint amusement in his voice, but his eyes were serious now, delving into mine as though to pry open all my secrets. "You're not a good liar. I know you better than that."

My heart hammered in my chest. I wasn't ready for this. I couldn't let him know. Not yet. "There's nothing to talk about. I'm just. tired."

I hated how small my voice was, how I just wanted to curl up in a hole and never come out again.

He wasn't buying it, though. "You don't just get tired for no reason. Something's on your mind.".

I glared at him, trying to push him away, but he refused to back down. "What's going on with you?" I snapped, my voice coming out harsher than I had intended. "Can't you just leave me alone for once?

These words hung there in the air between us, sharp and heavy, yet Frey didn't flinch. If anything, he looked even more intrigued. He took another step closer, his gaze narrowing. "You don't trust me, do you?"

I swallowed hard. My chest tightened, and the words were stuck in my throat. It wasn't just that I didn't trust him. It was that I didn't know what to trust anymore.

Everything I thought I knew had been shattered in the past few days and now I was supposed to believe in some guy who seemed like a permanent storm cloud over my life?

But instead of saying any of that, I just shot him another look and turned away again. "I don't have time for this. I'm going out."

"Where to?"

I didn't answer. I didn't owe him an explanation.

But he didn't, of course. He sidled in front of me, blocking my way. "What's wrong, Selene? Something is going on and I know when you're hiding something. I've lived long enough."

I sucked in a deep breath, battling the hostility that clawed its way up my throat. "Why do you care? You have never cared before.

Taken aback, he looked surprised at the question. The cocky grin fell; his expression softened. "I care because. because I don't want to see you make a mistake."

I stared at him in confusion that was rapidly flooding my mind. What the hell was he talking about? "What mistake?"

Frey hesitated a moment, his eyes flashing with something I couldn't place-vulnerable, something I hadn't seen before. "You're looking for answers, Selene. But sometimes the answers we find aren't the ones we want to hear."

The words hung heavy in the air, leaden. A warning, perhaps? Was he trying to protect me from the truth?

He let out a deep sigh, his frustration with my silence evident. "There's more to all of this than you know. Your parent's death, the pack, me. everything. You think this is all just one big coincidence?"

I froze, my pulse skipping in my chest. "What do you know about my parents?"

He stepped even closer, lowering his voice. "More than you think. But it's not my place to tell you. Not yet, anyway.

I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. It was all too much-the weight of it all. My mother. everything. 

Frey ran a hand through his hair; his eyes darkened. "You have no idea how deep this goes. I'm trying to protect you, Selene. There's a war brewing, and you're at the center of it whether you like it or not.".

A sudden noise pierced through our tense moment—a soft rustling in the trees followed by the crunch of footsteps on the forest floor. We immediately turned, and our bodies tensed further at the same time.

"Someone's coming," Frey muttered under his breath. His eyes scanned, senses high.

I looked at him, fear creeping up my spine. "Who?"

Quiet," Frey said, his hand slamming down on my arm, jerking me into the darkness behind the cabin.

I bit back the questions of what was going on, what he meant by war; those were just secondary concerns. The footsteps were louder now, closer. Too close.

Frey pressed me against the side of the cabin, his body shielding mine. His breathing was shallow, his muscles tight. I felt the beating of his heart against my back.

We held our breath, listening. The footsteps grew slower, then stopped altogether.

A figure appeared from the trees, moving with caution. A shadow flowed across the clearing and in that instant, I knew who it was. The pack.

My heart pounded against my chest, and a chill ran down my spine. Were they looking for us? Did they know about us?

Frey's hold on me tightened, and I had to fight not to look up at him. His gaze didn't waver from the approaching figure, his lips pressed into a thin line.

We were exposed. But for the moment, we weren't in jeopardy-at least, not yet.

As the footsteps grew distant once more, Frey released a soft breath; I finally dared glance up at him. His eyes were dark, almost full of unspoken words, and I had a sudden, distinct feeling that he had only just barely prevented our discovery.

I told you this was bigger than you thought," he whispered, his voice low and almost a growl. "The game is changing, and you're caught in the middle of it."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry.

I hated it, but Frey was right.