Chapter 33: Together Again

Third POV

The snow had begun to fall harder, thick white flakes swirling against the windowpane like a curtain drawn slowly closed over the world.

Ysabella stood with her back to the fire, her arms wrapped around herself, her gaze fixed on the darkening sky. The storm had come on suddenly, swallowing the village in a blanket of silence and cold.

She pulled absently at the fringe of her scarf, her mind racing through everything Tori had told her. The flight through the rogue forest. Samantha collapsing in the snow as her wolf awakened.

The long journey to the Midnight Pack. The discovery of the pregnancy. Isaac's birth. The years of hiding, of training, of learning to control powers that should have belonged to a woman twice her age.

And now Samantha was back in Emberclaw Castle, pretending to be a stranger, risking everything to heal the wife of the man who had broken her heart. All while fighting the mate bond that pulled her toward Maddox like a tide she could not resist.

Ysabella's chest ached.

"It is a blizzard," Tori said from the sofa. She had settled into the cushions with Isaac curled against her side, the boy's dark head resting on her shoulder. His wooden wolf still dangled from one small hand. "With luck, it will ease in a few hours."

Ysabella turned from the window. Her eyes swept over the room, the crackling fire, the shelves of herbs and books, the worn rug on the floor. And Tori. Her Tori. The friend she had mourned, the friend she had failed.

She crossed the room and knelt before the sofa, her knees pressing into the soft wool of the rug. Isaac stirred, lifting his golden eyes to study her face. He did not seem afraid anymore. Only curious.

"Hey, Isaac," Ysabella said softly, a smile trembling on her lips. "Did you know that I have a daughter? Her name is Aileen. She is almost exactly your age. I have a feeling you would love to meet her. She is very bossy, just like her mother."

Isaac tilted his head. "Bossy?"

"Very bossy. She tells everyone what to do. Even the guards." Ysabella laughed, and the sound came out wet, tears spilling down her cheeks. "She would probably try to tell you how to play with your wolf."

Isaac clutched the wooden toy tighter. "Fenris does not like being told what to do."

"Then you and Aileen will get along perfectly."

Isaac considered this for a moment, then nodded solemnly and tucked himself back against Tori's side.

Ysabella looked up at Tori. Her friend's face was streaked with tears, though she was smiling. Tori had never been one to cry easily. She had always been the steady one, the practical one, the one who kept her head when everyone else was panicking. Seeing her now, vulnerable and emotional, made Ysabella's heart ache even more.

"I am so sorry," Ysabella whispered. "For not going with you that night. For staying here. For choosing Emrich over you and Samantha. I should have been there. I should have protected you."

Tori reached out and brushed a tear from Ysabella's cheek. "Stop. Please stop. Hecate and I have never blamed you. Not once. We were happy for you. You had found your mate. You had a chance at a life we could not give you. Do you think we wanted you to freeze in the forest with us? Do you think we wanted you to suffer?"

Ysabella shook her head, her throat too tight for words.

Tori took her hand and squeezed. "We loved you enough to let you go. That was our choice. And we have never regretted it."

Ysabella leaned forward and rested her head on Tori's lap, the way she used to do when they were younger, when the world had seemed simpler and the future had stretched out before them like an open road. Tori stroked her hair, gentle and slow, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Isaac shifted, climbing off the sofa and padding over to the window. He pressed his small nose against the cold glass, watching the snow pile up on the sill.

"The storm is getting worse," Ysabella said finally, lifting her head. "I do not think I can make it back to the castle tonight."

"You should not even try," Tori agreed. "The path will be buried within the hour. You would freeze before you reached the gates."

"Then I will stay." Ysabella looked around the cottage. It was small, but there was room. A spare bed in the corner, a pile of blankets, the fire throwing enough warmth to keep the chill at bay. "If you will have me."

Tori smiled. "There is always room for you, Ysa. Always."

Ysabella wiped her eyes and sat back on her heels. "Good. Because I want you to tell me everything. Every detail. I want to know what these three years have been like for you and Samantha. Every hardship. Every joy. Every moment I missed."

Tori laughed softly. "That will take all night."

"Then it is a good thing the storm will not let us leave."

Tori reached for a pot of tea that had been steeping on the hearth. She poured two cups and handed one to Ysabella. The ceramic was warm against her palms, and the smell of chamomile and honey filled the air.

"Where should I begin?" Tori mused, settling back against the cushions.

Ysabella curled up on the rug, pulling a blanket around her shoulders. "At the beginning. The night you left."

Tori took a sip of her tea, her gaze drifting to the fire. The flames danced and crackled, casting shadows across her face.

"The forest was worse than we expected," she began. "The snow was deep, and the wind cut through our clothes like knives. We had no food, no water, no weapons. Just the clothes on our backs and the hope that we could make it to the border before dawn."

Isaac had abandoned the window and was now building a small tower out of wooden blocks on the rug beside them. He hummed softly to himself, a tuneless melody that seemed to belong to another world.

"We heard the rogues before we saw them," Tori continued. "Howling in the distance. Snapping branches. We ran, but the snow slowed us down. I tripped over a root and twisted my ankle. I thought that was it. I thought we were going to die right there, in the dark, with no one to mourn us."

Ysabella's grip tightened on her cup.

"But Samantha would not leave me. She pulled me to my feet and half carried me through the trees. Her face was pale, her lips blue, but she kept going. She kept saying, 'We are going to make it. We are going to survive.'"

Tori's voice dropped to a whisper.

"And then she collapsed. Her body seized up, and I thought she was having a fit. I thought the cold had finally taken her. But then her eyes opened, and they were different. Darker. Deeper. And there was power in them, Ysa. Real power. I felt it wash over me like a wave of heat."

She set down her cup and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Her wolf had awakened. All those years of being wolfless, of being called worthless, and the Moon Goddess had been waiting for that exact moment. The moment when Samantha had nothing left to lose. The moment when she had to become something more than she was."

Ysabella shivered, though the fire was warm. "And the rogues?"

"They fled. They sensed her power and ran the other way. We walked for three more days before we reached the Midnight Pack border. Samantha found us shelter. She found us food. She kept me alive when I wanted to give up."

Tori looked down at Isaac, who had abandoned his blocks and was now trying to stack a wooden spoon on top of a cup.

"And then she discovered she was pregnant."

Ysabella's heart clenched. "She was alone. In a strange pack. With no one to help her."

"She had me," Tori said firmly. "And she found others. The Midnight Pack is not like the other packs, Ysa. They are outcasts, misfits, people who did not fit in anywhere else. They welcomed us. They taught Samantha how to control her magic. They protected us when the king's scouts came looking."

Ysabella leaned forward. "The king searched for her?"

"For months. He sent riders to every pack, every village, every forest. He was obsessed. But the Midnight Pack hides itself from outsiders. They could not find us."

Ysabella thought of Maddox, of the hollow look in his eyes when he thought no one was watching. Of the pendant he wore against his chest, the vial of Samantha's blood still warm from his skin. He had searched. He had mourned. But it had not been enough. It would never be enough.

"Isaac was born in the spring," Tori said, her voice soft with memory. "It was a difficult birth. Samantha almost died. But when she held him for the first time, when she looked into his eyes, she said it was worth it. Every moment of pain. Every tear. He was her reason to keep going."

Ysabella watched the boy, so small, so unaware of the dangerous world he had been born into. He had his mother's stubborn chin and his father's golden eyes. A living reminder of the love that should have been.

"Does he know?" Ysabella asked. "About his father?"

"He knows that his father is a king. He knows that his mother had to leave to protect them both. But he does not know the whole truth. He is too young to understand."

Tori reached out and ruffled Isaac's dark hair. The boy looked up and grinned, showing a gap where his front tooth had fallen out.

"He is a good boy," Tori said. "Brave and kind, just like his mother."

Ysabella set down her cup and moved to sit beside Tori on the sofa. She leaned her head against her friend's shoulder, the way they used to do in the old days, when they were both young and foolish and full of dreams.

"I am so sorry I was not there," Ysabella whispered again.

Tori wrapped an arm around her. "You are here now. That is what matters."

They sat in silence for a while, watching the fire, listening to the wind howl outside. Isaac eventually curled up on a pile of blankets in front of the hearth, his wooden wolf tucked under his arm, his eyes slowly closing.

Ysabella thought of Samantha, alone in the castle, pretending to be someone she was not. Pretending not to love a man who had destroyed her. Pretending not to ache for the son she had left behind.

"She needs to come home," Ysabella said finally. "Not to the castle. To here. To Isaac. To us."

Tori nodded slowly. "She knows. But she cannot leave until she finishes what she started. Odette is not fully healed. And the curse..." She hesitated. "The curse is tied to her now, more than she ever expected. If she leaves before it is broken, it could consume her."

Ysabella closed her eyes. "Then we have to help her break it. Whatever it takes."

Tori squeezed her shoulder. "That is why she trusted you with the truth. She needs allies. People who know who she really is and what she is fighting for."

The fire crackled. The snow fell. And somewhere in the castle above, a woman with dark hair and dark eyes stood alone in her studio, staring at the pendant around her neck, wondering if she would ever be whole again.

Ysabella made a silent vow to herself. She would not fail Samantha again. She would protect her, protect Isaac, and help her find a way out of the darkness.

Even if it meant betraying the king.

Even if it meant risking everything she had built with Emrich.

She owed Samantha that much. And she intended to pay her debt.