LOGINSelena's POV~When I wake up, the warmth is still there, nestled in my chest like a sleeping creature. I press my hand to my ribs, feeling it pulse once before it settles down again.Greta told me that healers with this kind of gift usually burn out by the time they hit thirty. She said I need to get a handle on it.I need to start today.---The medical tent is quiet when I find Greta. She's sorting through some herbs while her granddaughter is busy playing with stones at her feet. When I walk in, she looks up at me, a knowing glint in her eyes."You should still be resting.""I've rested enough," I reply, sitting down across from her. "Teach me what you know."She studies me for a long moment. "I'm not a master of this gift, Selena. I picked up what I could from watching Lena and the old stories, but I've never had the gift myself.""Then teach me whatever you can. Anything."She lets out a sigh and sets the herbs aside. "The gift isn’t about forcing it. It’s about inviting it in. T
Selena's POV~Seeing the Hayes property in daylight feels different.No shadows lurking, no mist, no eerie figures hiding. Just an old house, a crumbling wall, and a garden overtaken by weeds. We stand at the edge of the property, with Damian on my left and Maya on my right, and there’s an eerie stillness all around."It’s empty," Maya says, scanning the tree line. "Whoever sent that message isn’t here."I pull out my phone to check the message again. Bring the Alpha. The truth is waiting. The number still leads nowhere; the council couldn’t trace it any further.Damian touches my arm. "We check the garden. Then we leave."We slowly walk around the perimeter, looking over the old wall, the fallen stones, and the spot where we found my mom’s box. Nothing’s changed. No footprints, no sign that anyone’s been here since that night.Maya kicks a loose stone. "It’s a dead end.""Or maybe someone wanted us to come here for a reason," I suggest, glancing at the garden, now overgrown and wild,
Maya's POV~The box is pretty old, its corners all crushed and the lid stained with some stuff I really don’t want to think about. I stumbled upon it tucked away in the back of a supply closet, buried under blankets and rusty tools. It hasn’t been touched in years. Maybe no one really wanted to.Now, I’m sitting on the floor of my room with the box in my lap, not opening it just yet. I’m holding it, feeling its weight, trying to recall what might be inside.I finally lift the lid.The smell hits me first. Dust, old paper, and a hint of some floral scent. Her perfume—the one she wore when Dad took her to gatherings. I can picture the bottle on her dresser and how she’d dab it behind her ears.Photos come spilling out. So many of them. Black and white, some faded colors, edges all curled up. I grab one, flipping it over. Mother and Lena, 1987. My mother’s handwriting. I recognize the slant of her letters right away.Lena. Selena's mom. They’re standing in front of a stone wall—the garde
Damian's POV~The message hangs between us like a live wire.Since we left Bloodmoon, Selena hasn’t taken her eyes off her phone. The unknown number, the invitation, the promise of truth—it makes me want to grab it and toss it out the window, acting like it never existed. But she’s already made up her mind. We’re going. Together.Just not today.Today, I’ve got a pack to manage, a construction site to oversee, conflicts to resolve. Life doesn’t halt just because the past is knocking.I find her at the edge of the new pack house, watching the workers finish laying the last roof beams. Her arms are crossed, her hair flowing freely, and her face is turned up to the sun. She looks like she’s always belonged here.“You’re staring again.” She doesn’t turn around.I step closer. “You’re just easy to stare at.”She almost cracks a smile. “Maya’s going to give you a hard time about that.”“Maya’s going to tease everyone. That’s just how she is.”For a brief moment, we stand together, watching
Selena's POV~The message sits on my phone like an annoying splinter.I've read it over and over since last night. *If you want to know about Kael, come to Bloodmoon. Alone.* No name, no explanation—just a promise that I can’t ignore and a condition I can’t accept.Damian is already in motion, making plans. He’s reached out to Voss, talking about scouts, backup, tracing the number. I let him go on. I can’t think about it right now. Not yet.Because this morning, I got another message. This one came from the council.*Samuel Hayes has requested to see you before his trial. He says it's important. He says he won't ask again.*I’ve been standing at the edge of the construction site for twenty minutes, watching the new pack house rise, trying to figure out what to do.“You don’t have to go,” Maya says, showing up next to me with coffee in hand. “You can just say no.”“I know.”But you’re still planning to go, right?I take the coffee from her. “He’s my father. The only one I’ve ever known
Selena's POV~The fight kicks off at breakfast.Honestly, I should’ve seen it coming. Damian's been quiet since we sat down, the kind of quiet that signals he’s got something on his mind that he doesn’t want to say. I know that feeling well because I tend to keep things to myself too. It’s a big reason why we both struggle with this."You’re not going after him." He keeps his eyes on his plate.I set my fork down. "I never said I was going after him.""But you were thinking about it. Last night, with Greta's photo. You had that look.""What look?""The look that means you’re gearing up for something risky and you’ve already decided not to tell me until it’s too late."I shoot him a glare. "That’s not fair.""No." He finally meets my gaze. "What’s not fair is you putting yourself in danger for everyone else while never considering what it does to me."Maya, who’s been pretending to read a report at the next table, lowers the paper slowly. Marcus, sitting nearby with his guard, shifts u







