PRISCILLA I stared at him—frozen—his words slicing through the air like a blade. What the hell just happened? He wasn’t looking at me like he just did a few moments ago in the room like I was his world or someone worth protecting. He was looking at me like I’d betrayed him. “Gabriel…” My voice came out smaller than I meant it to. “What do you think you’re doing?” His jaw ticked, his eyes glinting gold—but he didn’t answer. His grip tightened on my wrist, and he turned sharply, dragging me back toward the house without another word. “Gabriel!” I snapped, trying to pull my hand back, but he wasn’t letting go. “Gabriel, stop! What did I do that gives you the right to raise your voice at me like that?” Still nothing. Just the heavy sound of our footsteps echoing against the hall floors, his breath flaring like a storm building under his skin. We barely made it through the front door before he stopped in the foyer, finally releasing my wrist like it burned him. His hands raked th
PRISCILLA Gabriel was finally asleep. I sat quietly on the bed, leaning back against the headboard with a pillow propped behind me, watching him. His arm was thrown carelessly across his chest, the blanket tangled low around his hips, but even in sleep, his body held a quiet tension. His brows were faintly creased like he was still on guard, still caught in some distant battle he couldn’t shake. He wasn’t truly resting—just existing in the quietest version of his exhaustion. My fingers trailed gently through his hair, sweeping the dark strands away from his forehead in a repetitive, soothing motion. He didn’t stir, just breathed in a slow, shallow rhythm. I had to push them to let him come to this room, had to look Aurora in the eye and tell her that Gabriel needed to rest and that this—here with me—was the only way that would happen. He wouldn’t admit he was tired. Of course, he wouldn’t. He never did. But I saw it in his gait, in the way his jaw had set too tightly after we got
PRISCILLA “M’bebe... open your eyes, darling. Come on now, open those pretty eyes for Mama…” That voice. Soft. Gentle. Full of warmth and love and everything I’d craved for years. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to blink or speak or breathe. I just wanted to hold onto that voice and sink deeper into it. “Mum?” I whispered into the quiet, my lips barely moving. My chest cracked open like something raw, my throat thick with ache. “Mum, is that you?” I could almost feel her arms wrap around me, the way they used to when the world outside became too loud and all I had was her. Her scent—floral and clean. The gentle hum she used to soothe me with. I could feel it again. Feel her. I curled into the warmth of that memory like it could pull me back to where she was. Maybe, just maybe, I’d died. Maybe that was the only way I’d hear her voice again. Maybe I’d finally crossed the bridge of missing her. But then the warmth shifted. Faded. And a prickling chill kissed my skin. Realit
GABRIEL I slammed my claws into a nearby tree trunk, splintering bark. “This is gonna be a hell of blood and sweat to find her now,” I muttered through gritted teeth. My heart thundered. She was getting farther. I couldn’t feel her anymore—not through the bond. Just a haunting blankness. But then— I caught another scent. Familiar. Pack. Austin. And the other pack members. Without hesitation, I pivoted and took off, the wind howling against me as I followed the trail. It wove deep into the woods, winding through thick brush and sharp turns until I reached them—Austin, in wolf form, and Aurora riding low on his back. They stopped as soon as they caught sight of me, their bodies tense. Aurora’s eyes widened. She slid off quickly, reading the fury rolling off me in waves. She knew what was coming. I didn’t stop. I lunged. I crashed into Austin with full force, sending us both rolling across the dirt, teeth bared, snarls ripping from our throats. He met me halfway, growling
PRISCILLA Just as I pushed myself up, preparing to bolt toward the door, Mikah reached out and grabbed my wrist—not hard, but firm enough to stop me. "Wait," he said, his voice low, strained. I froze. “What is it?” His eyes shifted, their glow dimmering. “I’m going to be punished for interfering.” “What?” I blinked. “Punished by who?” He hesitated, then said softly, “By the ones who appointed me to guide you.” A chill swept across my skin. “But isn’t that what you’re doing, guiding me, helping me?” “guiding you, yes. But helping you out of trouble…” He looked away. “That wasn’t in my contract.” “You cried a lot,” he added with a small, pained smile. “It kept my head too full to ignore you.” Then he turned his palm toward me. A faint, silver-white smoke coiled from his fingers—light as feathers, warm as breath. It spun in slow, spiralling tendrils until it wrapped around me like a silk cocoon. I gasped as my body was gently lifted an inch off the floor, encased in a soft, s
PRISCILLA The words hung in the air like a curse—sharp, heavy, final. "Now it's time for me to make you mine." My pulse slammed against my throat. I could feel it thudding in my chest like a drum, loud and frantic. The weight of his words pinned me in place more than the ropes holding me to the chair ever could. He was so close now. His breath brushed against my cheek, warm and too calm for what he’d just said. I didn’t flinch this time. I couldn’t afford to. I stared straight ahead, refusing to meet his eyes. The stench that usually came with his growl hadn’t returned, but something else had. A pressure. An invisible coil wrapping around my ribs, making it hard to breathe. “I’m not yours,” I said quietly. My voice didn’t shake. His lips twitched. Not in amusement, but something else—regret? Anguish? “I don’t think you understand what you are,” he murmured. “But it’s okay. I’ll show you.” I didn’t like the way he said that. “Why now?” I asked, trying to buy time, trying to