LOGINLucas’s POVThe headache started before dawn.At first it felt like a hangover — a dull weight behind my eyes, the kind you ignore out of habit. By sunrise it had sharpened into something else, a pulse that moved with my heartbeat. Every throb made the world flicker, colors too bright, sounds too clear.I gripped the railing of the balcony outside my chamber and waited for the nausea to pass. Below, the courtyard glowed gold with morning. Wolves sparred in the yard, their laughter carried by the wind, ordinary and alive. The scent of baked bread drifted up from the kitchens. Everything looked peaceful, almost perfect.But peace shouldn’t hurt like this.I closed my eyes, trying to ground myself in the bond. Rose. Her scent, her pulse, the quiet rhythm that always steadied me. It came faint at first, then warmer — the same way sunlight feels when you’ve been lost in the cold too long. I focused on that warmth until the trembling in my hands eased.Then it spiked again.My vision blurre
Mara’s POV“She actually believes us.”Lila’s voice broke the silence the instant the latch clicked. The sweetness she’d worn for Rose evaporated like perfume in smoke.“She always wanted to,” I said, watching the closed door. “It’s her favorite story—everyone redeemed, everyone forgiven.”Lila laughed, light and cruel. “Our poor sainted sister. Look at her, walking around with that bump like the moon blessed her twice.”I crossed to the window. The courtyard below shimmered with sunlight, but inside the room, the air already felt thick again. “Keep your voice down. The walls here have ears.”“Whose?” Lila asked. “Her guards? That gamma with the suspicious eyes? You really think anyone will question the sweet pregnant Luna?”“Yes.” I turned. “Because I would.”She rolled her eyes and flopped back on the bed. “You’re getting paranoid.”“Paranoia keeps us alive.” I bent to straighten the basket Rose had left behind; her scent still clung to the cloth—lavender, honey, that faint trace of
Rose’s POVI sat by the dressing mirror, brushing through my hair with slow, even strokes. Lucas had left early for the training fields, promising he’d be back by midday. He had kissed my forehead before leaving — warm, lingering, a habit he didn’t realize I noticed every time.I watched him disappear through the window earlier, the soldiers parting for him with quiet reverence. I should have felt safe. I did, in a way. But something in me had been restless these past few mornings, something I couldn’t name.When I looked down, my reflection smiled faintly back at me. My hand instinctively fell to the small curve of my stomach, where our child was beginning to show — not much, just a gentle swell beneath the silk. I traced the shape with my fingertips.“You’re growing fast,” I whispered. “He’ll be so proud.”The thought warmed me — and yet, there was a shadow that refused to lift. Maybe it was the memory of that letter, the one that had promised I would never hold this child. Maybe it
Jake’s POVThe morning felt wrong.The kind of wrong that didn’t announce itself with alarms or blood — just silence.The air in the fortress was too still, the corridors too quiet, as if the stones themselves were holding their breath.I’d been up since before dawn, my mind circling the same unease that hadn’t let me sleep. Maybe it was instinct, maybe something colder. But when I saw Mara returning from the outer courtyard, her cloak damp, her boots muddy, and the faint, acrid scent of sulfur on her — my gut tightened.She’d smiled when I spoke to her, said she needed air, but wolves like her didn’t lie cleanly. The truth had trembled behind her words like a trapped pulse.Now, standing by the window overlooking the training yard, I couldn’t stop replaying it. The small tear in her hem. The twitch of her eyes when I mentioned the healers’ rounds. The scent that didn’t belong to our world.Something was off.Behind me, the door creaked softly. I didn’t need to turn to know who it was
Mara’s POV“You’re late,” Drake said.His voice cut through the fog before I even saw him.The night clung to the ruins like smoke. Moonlight leaked through the collapsed roof in thin white spears, catching the dust that drifted between us. Every breath I took felt heavy, thick with damp earth and the faint metallic taste of blood-magic.“I couldn’t leave sooner,” I said, stepping over the broken threshold. My cloak snagged on a shard of stone; I tore it free and let the fabric fall around me again. “The patrols have doubled since Jake began sniffing around.”Drake stood at the far end of the ruined shrine, half-hidden by a pillar carved with faded runes. The flickering candlelight made the symbols on his skin shimmer faintly—marks that seemed to crawl and rearrange themselves when he moved.“You’re losing your edge, Mara.” His tone was almost lazy, but it wrapped around me like a noose.“I’m careful,” I answered, forcing calm. “Careful enough that they trust me.”He stepped forward.
Jake’s POV“Something doesn’t sit right with me,” Clara said, her voice low as she crouched by the old brick wall of the northern courtyard.I leaned against the pillar beside her, folding my arms. “You mean besides the fact that Rose’s sisters suddenly decided to forgive and forget?”She glanced over her shoulder at me, a strand of dark hair falling across her face. “Exactly that.”Her tone was sharper than usual, but I’d come to know that when Clara was angry, it wasn’t the fire you had to fear — it was the silence right before.She ran her fingers across the stone, frowning. “Jake, doesn’t this look… different to you?”I pushed off the pillar and crouched beside her. The bricks were old, stained from rain and age, but beneath the surface I could see faint etchings — symbols burned so lightly they looked like shadows.“What the hell…” I muttered, brushing my thumb across one. It pulsed faintly, a dull crimson glow that vanished as quickly as it came.“See?” Clara whispered. “I told







