Kieran’s POV It can’t be true. It can’t be true. It can’t be true. I chant the words like a prayer, a spell, a lifeline to keep me from spiraling. “Kieran?” Lucien’s voice slices through the fog of my thoughts. There’s caution in his tone, like he’s not sure which version of me he’s talking to right now. I point to Maven’s crumpled form, his body slumped on the floor like a rag doll still chained in the chair. “Help him up.” Lucien hesitates for half a second, then moves with Damon to prop the bastard up. Chains rattle as they drag him upright. His head droops forward, blood caking his hair, skin pallid—but the shallow rise and fall of his chest tells me he’s already healing. “He’s recovering fast,” Damon mutters, fingers brushing the dent in Maven’s skull. “Alpha blood’s a bitch.” I exhale a sharp breath through my nose and storm out of the cell, the cold dungeon air clinging to my skin like guilt. Lucien and Damon follow behind, their footsteps echoing softly against the st
Zoey’s POV “Zoey!!” a voice echoes through the fog like a distant bell. The moment I hear it, I know—it’s another memory. My surroundings are blurry, edges shimmering with that same ethereal glow that always comes when my mind peels back layers I didn’t even know were locked away. I turn toward the voice, the fog parting like curtains in a theater, and see a sleek black SUV pulling into a lush green yard under a pastel sky. A boy jumps out of the backseat, no older than twelve, with tousled brown hair and sharp eyes that remind me painfully of someone. He runs toward two children on the lawn—one of them, a younger me. “Mav!” my younger self calls, jumping up from a blanket scattered with toys. A wide grin spreads across her—my—face, unguarded and warm. A little boy stands beside her, hair as white as snow and eyes a striking blue. Zach. My breath catches. So I knew Maven before now. But… does that mean he was telling the truth about being my mate? Is he really my second half?
Kieran’s POV I can’t bring myself to go into her room, no matter how loudly Ragnar is roaring in my head to. I stand frozen outside her door, fists clenched, my heartbeat thundering like war drums. Her scent drifts beneath the cracks—sweet vanilla and fresh coffee beans—and it only tightens the knot in my chest. After what I heard earlier, after the storm of emotions pounding through me, I’m not sure what I’d say to her if I walked in. So instead, I pivot and head for my office. Lucien is already there, slouched in the chair across from my desk, aggressively texting someone. His brows are drawn tight, fingers flying like he’s trying to beat the phone into submission. “For once, I’d like to come into my own damn office and not find someone sitting here,” I mutter, dropping into my chair and flipping open my MacBook. He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even glance up. “Ahem.” I clear my throat loudly. Lucien finally looks up, his eyes bloodshot with frustration and worry. “What?” “What
Zoey’s POVThe remnants of the dream cling to me like mist as I wake. I squeeze my eyes shut, begging my mind to hold onto the images—to freeze them before they vanish into the blur of daylight. A voice. A forest. A boy reaching for me. My name whispered like a secret.But the more I move, the more it slips away. By the time I’m in the shower, it’s like chasing fog. My temples throb from trying to force clarity where only fragments remain.Damn it.Wrapped in a towel, I check my phone. Lucien should’ve been here by now. We always get breakfast together.I step into the hallway and head or the stairs, eyes scanning for my breakfast buddy.“Hey.”The voice sends a ripple through me—like standing too close to a speaker with the bass turned up. I turn slowly to find Maven in joggers and a black tee, hands tucked into his pockets, casual yet striking. Too casual.“Oh, hey,” I respond, scanning behind him—desperately hoping Lucien appears like some divine interruption.“I didn’t see you at
Kieran’s POVHis words sink in slowly—each one laced with poison that numbs my thoughts.“You know her, actually. Zoey,” Maven had said, smiling like he’d just won a prize.“What?” is all I can manage, my voice barely a whisper.“Yeah,” he repeats with a wider smile, one so casual it makes my skin crawl. That smile—that damned smile—is meant for my mate?It takes everything in me not to let Ragnar claw his way to the surface. My wolf thrashes against the walls of my chest, snarling to be set free.“That’s… good for you,” I say, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. “If you’ll excuse me, I was heading to bed.”I rise, trying to keep my steps steady, but of course he follows.“So I’ll see you at the war prep tomorrow, right?” he calls from behind.I stop cold. “You have no business being there.”He shrugs as he walks past me. “Actually, as an Alpha and family, I have every right. So yes—you’ll see me there. Goodnight.”He disappears down the corridor, smug satisfaction radiating
Zoey’s POVAnders keeps telling me to breathe.“In through your nose, Zoey. Come on, slowly. Deep breaths.”But I can’t. There’s a weight on my chest, pressing in from all sides. Like I’ve been buried under centuries of silence and secrets, and every inhale has to fight to survive.Then, suddenly, it stops.Not the panic—but the worst of it. The tightness begins to unravel, the storm inside me quiets. A soft pulse beats through my body like a low drum, steady and familiar.I feel him.I don't even need to see him to know—Kieran is near. His presence reaches for me like a warm tide pulling me back from the edge. His heartbeat, once frantic, has slowed, and I can feel it from here.Anders notices too. He follows my gaze to the door.“He’s here, isn’t he?” he asks quietly.I don't answer. I don’t have to.He sighs, but not in frustration. More like resignation. His eyes drop to the necklace clenched in my hand—the one Kieran gave me. The pendant is cold now, but I swear it had pulsed wit