LOGINTHIRD POVFor a brief moment after Alec told them to proceed, no one spoke.The elders exchanged glances again, the kind of looks that carried far more meaning than words ever could.The silence stretched, thick, until finally one of the elders cleared his throat.“We have heard… rumors,” the elder began slowly, his tone measured but tense. “Word is spreading through the pack that Night Crescent intends to host the Blackridge pack for joint warrior training.”Alec blinked once.Then he let out a short breath, almost amused.“Oh,” he said casually. “That.”The reaction around the table was immediate. Several elders stiffened. One leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing.“Yes,” Elder Rowan said calmly, though even he looked concerned. “That.”Alec straightened a little in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “The Blackridge pack sent a letter,” he explained, his voice even, as if he were discussing something mundane. “They proposed joint training. I considered it, and I decided
THIRD POVThe moment Alec stepped fully into the council chamber, he felt it.The air was thick—heavy with tension, displeasure, and something dangerously close to open resentment.Every elder was already seated around the long oak table, their backs straight, their hands folded or clenched, their expressions dark and rigid. No one spoke. No one moved. Their eyes followed Alec in silence, and not a single one of them bothered to hide their anger.Alec resisted the urge to scoff out loud.What is wrong with these people? he thought irritably. Did they all wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?He took a few steps forward, boots echoing faintly against the floor, and stopped near the head of the table. His gaze swept over the elders slowly, as if daring someone to speak first.“Well,” Alec said at last, his tone clipped, edged with annoyance. “You requested a meeting.”Silence answered him.Not a single elder responded. A few of them shifted slightly in their seats.One elder s
THIRD POVBy the time Alec finished issuing orders to the maids and guards, his patience was hanging by a very thin thread.“Make sure the east wing is cleared and prepared,” he said firmly, his voice echoing through the corridor. “I want fresh linens, no reused rooms, and double security at every entrance. No mistakes.”“Yes, Alpha,” one of the guards replied immediately, bowing his head.“And tell the kitchen staff to prepare a formal reception,” Alec continued. “Nothing excessive, but nothing careless either. The Blackridge pack will be treated with respect.”The moment the words left his mouth, an angry scoff cut through the air.“I still don’t understand why you’re doing this.”Alec closed his eyes briefly. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.Amanda.She stood a few steps behind him, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her face twisted in open irritation. She had been following him since, her footsteps sharp and her presence impossible to ignore.“I told you alrea
KIRA’S POVFor several seconds after Lydia finished speaking, I did not move.I stayed seated in front of her, my hands resting uselessly on my knees, my mind locked in a place somewhere between disbelief and dread. The room felt smaller than it had a few minutes ago, as though the walls had quietly crept inward while she was talking.The air itself felt heavier, pressing down on my chest.I had listened to countless confessions in my career. Trauma. Hallucinations. Repressed memories. Dissociation. I knew how to categorize stories, how to name them, how to place them neatly into diagnoses that made sense.This did not fit anywhere.Lydia sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped, eyes unfocused, like she had emptied herself out by telling me everything she had carried alone for so long. She looked exhausted in a way sleep could never fix.I swallowed hard and forced myself to breathe.“Lydia,” I said slowly, carefully, afraid that the wrong tone might shatter her. “I need to
THIRD POV Lydia’s scream tore through the quiet ward like a blade.She jolted upright in bed, her chest heaving violently as if she had just been dragged out of deep water. For a split second, she looked around wildly, her eyes unfocused, her breathing erratic, and then panic completely took over.“No—no—no!” she screamed again, throwing the sheets aside.Before anyone could stop her, Lydia leapt off the bed and bolted for the door, her bare feet slapping against the cold tiled floor. She shoved the door open and ran straight into the hallway, her hospital gown fluttering behind her as she sprinted blindly forward.“Lydia! Stop!” one of the nurses shouted.Two nurses immediately took off after her, their shoes squeaking loudly against the floor as alarms of concern echoed down the corridor. Lydia ran as if something was chasing her, as if stopping meant certain death. Her sobs were loud and broken, mixing with frantic screams that sent chills down the spines of anyone who heard t
THIRD POV Lydia slept.Machines hummed softly beside her hospital bed, their steady rhythm the only thing anchoring her to the present. The room was dim, as the curtains were closed. Her chest rose and fell slowly, lashes resting against her cheeks, her body still—too still.Then her brow furrowed.Her breathing changed.And the world slipped.Suddenly Lydia was standing in a hallway she hadn’t seen in years.The walls were familiar—cream-colored. The old family photos were still there, crooked frames she remembered her mother always meaning to fix and never did. The carpet soft beneath her feet was.Her childhood home.Lydia froze.Her heart began to pound, not with surprise—but recognition.“I know this,” she whispered, though no sound came out.Then she saw herself.Small. Thin. Barefoot.The younger Lydia burst out of a bedroom down the hall, eyes wide with fear, pajama sleeves bunched in her fists as she ran.“No,” Lydia breathed. “Not this.”But the dream did not listen.The







