LOGIN
Tamara’s POV
I sat across the manager’s table, my résumé clutched so tightly my knuckles ached, fingernails pressing little scars into my skin. I forced a brave smile, adjusting my posture to look more confident than I felt. For a moment, my eyes caught a glimpse of a shadow outside the window, tall, hairy, oddly animal‑like. “I’m definitely seeing things,” I muttered under my breath. “Miss Tamara?” the manager prompted, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Why do you want to work here?” Blinking, I dragged myself back to reality. “I… I need the experience,” I stammered, my fingers tapping nervously on the résumé as if answers would magically appear. “I’m hardworking, and I–” The manager glanced at the clock above my head, irritation creeping into his voice. “We don’t have all day, Miss Tamara.” A whisper brushed against my ear, low and haunting. My eyes darted to the window, then back to him. Get yourself together, Tamara, I pleaded inwardly. “I love reading and–“A low howl echoed faintly, cutting me off. The manager frowned. “You seem… distracted.” Heat rushed to my cheeks. “I’m sorry, sir,” I whispered. “I thought I heard something.” “This job requires focus.” His tone was firm as he closed the file in front of him and slid it back to me. “I don’t think you’re the right fit.” The words hit me hard. My throat tightened, but I forced myself to nod. “I understand.” I gathered my papers into my bag and left the room, head bowed, avoiding the eyes of the workers who looked at me as though they’d witnessed the rejection themselves. Pushing the heavy doors open, I stepped outside. The evening air was cooler, heavier. I decided to take the long route home, hoping it would give me time to gather myself. The wind danced around me, whispering reminders of yet another failure. My blazer clung uncomfortably, so I slipped it off. It felt like shedding the remnants of the interview, leaving me lighter. The path stretched endlessly, one street leading into another. The sky was painted in fading hues of orange, and streetlights flickered on, brightening alleys and corners as night settled in. After what felt like forever, a sharp sniff jolted me from my thoughts. I glanced at my watch. “8:36.” It was darker than I realized. My eyes scanned left and right, trying to place myself. I was closer to home now. Jen will be worried. Right on cue, my phone rang. I smiled faintly at the name flashing across the screen. The ever‑caring sis. “Tamara, please tell me there’s a good reason you’re not home yet,” Jenna’s voice came sharp with worry. I kicked at a stone, heels clicking against the pavement. “I’m sorry. I took the long route and got caught up.” “Let me guess, daydreaming about your books again?” she teased knowingly. Her exasperation made me chuckle. “Not this time.” Silence followed, heavy with the question I knew was coming. “How was the interview?” she asked softly, hope lingering in her tone. A sob threatened to escape. A tear slid down my cheek. I tried to be strong. It wasn’t the first rejection. I should have been used to it by now. “I didn’t get the job,” I admitted, my voice cracking as tears streamed freely. My grip tightened on my bag and blazer. “Oh, darling, they don’t deserve you. You’ll find somewhere better,” she said firmly. Somewhere better. It sounded more like a fantasy than reality. I sniffed, forcing a smile. “Maybe. I’ll keep trying.” “Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.” I lifted my head and spotted familiar buildings, including my sister’s shop, about fifteen minutes away. “Don’t worry. I’ll be home soon.” I heard her moving around, muttering about her keys. “That’s not your decision, Mara,” she scolded, her voice fading as she searched. I sighed, trying to sound steadier. “Really, I can manage. I’ll be there before you know it.” “Oh yes, you are,” she teased, her tone turning playful. “Would you deny Mr. Handsome, with eyes so blue you could drown in them, the chance to rescue a damsel in distress?” A blush crept up my cheeks. “Jen, stop,” I hissed, glancing around even though no one was there. She laughed. “Why do I feel like I know why you were distracted?” I ducked under a shade, trying to hide my burning face. “Was it something… or someone?” she drawled. Before I could answer, a noise echoed from the woods. My heart lurched. I cut the call, shoved the phone into my bag, and clutched my blazer tighter. My feet carried me closer to the forest. One part of me screamed to run home, but another, the part filled with imagination whispered that maybe this was the escape I’d been craving. I halted at the entrance. The woods were frighteningly quiet. Gathering courage, I stepped in. The half‑moon cast a dim glow, enough to outline large shapes but not the smaller obstacles littering the ground. Then those blue eyes flashed again. I squeezed mine shut, feeling hazy. Those eyes had haunted me for so long. The chirping of insects grew louder. I dropped my blazer and clutched my forehead, trying to steady the ringing headache. When it eased, I brushed off the leaves clinging to my clothes and picked up my bag. Just as I turned to leave, another pair of eerie eyes flickered and vanished. “Okay, Tamara,” I muttered, hugging my bag tighter. “It’s just trees. Just shadows. Nothing to freak out about.” A whisper brushed past me, faint as wind. I spun around. “Hello?” My voice cracked. No answer. My phone buzzed again, but I ignored it, too caught up in the moment. I forced myself forward, heart pounding. Then came the growl. Low. Rumbling. Close. My breath caught. “No… no, no, no.” From the shadows, it stepped out, massive, fur bristling, eyes glowing like embers. For a second, I thought it was a wolf, but it was too big, too deliberate. It looked at me like it understood. I stumbled back, My legs seemed glued to the spot, despite my frantic urge to flee To my horror, it lunged The weight of it slammed me to the ground. Fangs tore into my shoulder, fire exploding through my veins. I screamed, clawing at its fur, but the pain drowned everything. The world blurred. Somewhere in the chaos, I heard it, a howl, not outside, but inside my head, echoing like it belonged to me. Darkness swallowed me whole. Just before it claimed me, a name slipped from my lips without reason, without thought. “Percy.”Tamara’s POV The bass from the city square pulsed through the apartment floorboards, a low vibration that made the water in my glass tremble. I stood at the window, watching streaks of neon purple and gold climb across the Vyne City skyline. The festival had begun. “We aren’t going, Tam,” Jenna said firmly as she walked into the living room. She was already wrapped in an oversized sweater, her posture loose, signaling she had settled in for the night. “Kat said it’s dangerous. We’re staying here.” I turned from the glass. “I’ve been in this room for three weeks. Before that, four in a hospital bed. I feel like I’m fading.” “It’s one night,” Jenna argued, but her words faltered when she saw me gripping the sofa, my knuckles pale. “You’re still weak. You can barely make it to the kitchen without gasping.” “I need the air,” I whispered. “Just for an hour. The crowd’s human, Jen. Safety in numbers. We’ll grab food, see the lights, and come back. I just… I can’t be alone with my h
Tamara’s POVIt had been three weeks since I left the hospital. Three weeks of the same routine.My legs still felt unpredictable , heavy and unreliable, trembling if I stood longer than ten minutes. Most days I stayed wrapped in a knit cardigan, sunk into the sofa, watching the city move through the window as if it belonged to someone else.Jenna walked into the kitchen, her eyes scanning me the way they always did, searching for cracks.“Tam? You okay? I heard the kettle.”“I’m fine, Jen,” I said, though my voice carried more steadiness than I felt. I reached for a towel to wipe the spill. “Just jumpy today. Maybe it’s the noise outside. Everyone’s getting ready for the festival.”“The Lunar Solstice,” Jenna murmured, leaning against the doorframe. Her shoulders sagged with exhaustion. She had been pulling double shifts to cover for me, then coming home to play nurse. “The whole city’s going to be chaos. Parades, food stalls, tourists everywhere. I was thinking we should stay in. Or
Tamara’s POVThe first thing I noticed was the silence. Then came the squeeze of a blood pressure cuff around my arm, the only rhythm in the room.I forced my eyes open. The ceiling was a grid of white acoustic tiles. Sunlight, sharp and midday-bright, cut through the blinds, striking a plastic pitcher of water on the bedside table. I tried to lift my hand, but it felt heavy, like lead.A woman in navy scrubs entered, clipboard in hand.“You’re awake,” she said, her voice calm, professional. She stepped closer, pen clicking. “Don’t sit up too fast, Tamara. You’ve been under for a long time.”My throat burned, dry as sandpaper. “How… long?”“Four weeks,” she said, checking the IV line in my wrist. “You were brought in with severe trauma and systemic shock. Honestly, we weren’t sure the neurological damage would reverse. Your vitals stayed stable, but you wouldn’t wake up.”“Four weeks?” The number felt unreal. A month of my life gone. “Where am I?”“Vyne City General. Private wing.” Sh
Tamara’s POVMy eyes felt heavy, glued shut, but when I forced them open, I wasn’t staring at elegant wall of the Ashborne’s mansion or my room.I was standing in a hallway. The polished floor reflected the overhead lights. I looked down at my hands. No silver burns. My best blazer hugged my shoulders, the one I had ironed a dozen times for–“The company?” I whispered. My voice sounded thin, echoing against the glass partitions. The hallway looked familiar, too familiar.I knew this place. I had lived this morning before. The nerves in my stomach stirred like a dull memory of a life I thought I had outgrown. I walked toward the frosted glass door at the end of the hall. Gloria’s Marketing Solutions. The name was the same, but the air felt wrong.I pushed the door open. The person behind the desk wasn’t the same as that day. She typed on a keyboard that made no sound, her head tilted at an angle I would have recognized anywhere. She stopped, fingers hovering, and turned her chair.“You
Jenna’s POV The steam wand hissed, a sharp metallic scream that usually meant the morning rush was about to hit. I was adjusting a display of gluten-free muffins, wondering if the mauve frosting looked ridiculous, when my apron pocket buzzed. I pulled out my phone. The words on the screen made my chest seize. BREAKING: Attack at the Ashborne Estate. Reports of gunfire and structural collapse. My fingers shook. My thoughts scattered like broken glass. “No,” I whispered. I dialed Tamara. Voicemail. I dialed again. Nothing. My stomach dropped, cold spreading through me despite the humid kitchen air. I grabbed my keys, nearly knocking over a tray of coffee cups. My hands were clumsy, my pulse hammering. I was already out the door, fumbling for my car. I hit speed dial for the only person who could breathe air back into me. “Jenna?” Persia’s voice was smooth, filtered through the background noise of a boardroom. “I’m in a session, can this–” “Persia, please,” I choked out, m
Tamara’s POV I pulled back just enough to breathe, my heart a frantic bird against my ribs. Percy’s thumb traced my lower lip, his gaze heavy and clouded with a hunger that made my knees weak."I thought I’d never taste you," he whispered, his forehead dropping to rest against mine. "I thought you’d let the Ashborne scent bury us.""I should have," I breathed, though my hands were still tangled in the fine wool of his jacket. "You made it very clear that I was a liability. Why do you care now?"Percy’s grip tightened on my waist, pulling me flush against him until I could feel the erratic thrum of his pulse. "Because I’m a fool, Tamara. And because every time I closed my eyes in that empty house, the bond screamed that you were drowning. I couldn't let you go."I didn't answer with words. I couldn't. I reached up, my fingers sliding into the hair at the nape of his neck, and pulled him back down. This time, the kiss was softer, a quiet, desperate pleaThe kiss still burned on my lips
Jenna’s POVI didn’t go to work that morning. I told myself it was because Tamara was coming back, but that wasn’t the whole truth. The house had been too quiet the past few days, and I couldn’t stand leaving it like that again.So I cleaned. Moving things around, fixing what didn’t need fixing, wi
Tanara’s POVI sat pressed against the door, Jenna’s oversized cardigan draped over me like a flimsy shield against the man across from me. Elijah Ashborne, he looked like a king in a charcoal suit, his expression as smooth and cold as the silver flask in his hand.“You’re staring, Tamara,” he sai
Tamara’s POVMy head throbbed with a sick heat. The last thing I remembered was the floor rushing up to meet me. I groaned, my hand pressing against my forehead. Something cool and damp rested there, a washcloth.I blinked until the blur cleared. I was in my bedroom. My sweatpants clung to me, but
Tamara’s POV The kitchen carried the rich smell of soup mixed with the faint citrus of the tea Jenna had insisted on brewing. Persia had left an hour ago. I sat at the table, my fingers tracing the worn grooves in the wood, trying to remember how home used to feel. I never thought I would come bac







