Amaya’s POV
It takes me longer than expected to sneak out of the west wing. After waiting for a few more minutes to ensure Lucian is finally gone, I make my way out of the room and back to the first floor, only to find out that the door had jammed. For a second, I think that I am going to be trapped in here, with all the thoughts and seemingly buried secrets, and that when I pound on the door for help, Evelara will be the one to hear me. But after a few more tries, the door opens under my palms and I slip out, moving through the same path I came in through. The crest now lies in the pocket of my pants, the lightweight bearing more on my mind. I am almost back in the kitchen when I hear laughter traveling from the living area. It has to be the first time I have heard such easy sound in the pack house, as everyone is always so uptight and scared of Darian. Rather than go to the kitchen, I edge instead towards the sound, stopping just before the archway that leads into the living room. I hold my breath for a second when I see him there, sprawled causally on one of the long couches. "Yeah, I remember!" he is laughing at something Darian said, his head thrown back in amusement. His eyes appear more golden than amber now, and the mystery about him is toned down a bit. Darian is right next to him on the couch, the perpetual scowl on his face missing. That is shocking. It’s so strange seeing him smile like that. “It’s so nice seeing you here again,” Evelara says in a falsely high voice, sitting elegantly in a corner. "We missed you at the mating ceremony, and when you didn't show up, I thought you wouldn't be coming anytime soon. Although your brother didn't admit it, he was a little bit sad about it." I roll my eyes at her words. She speaks to Lucian like she’s trying to win him over without sounding so desperate. I only met him a few minutes ago, but I am certain he is not easily fooled. And from what he said about her, Lucian isn’t her greatest fan. “I missed my flight,” Lucian sighs, and for some reason, I feel like that is a lie. He has this mysterious glint in his eyes that tells me he just cooked up an excuse. He just didn’t want to see his brother get mated to Evelara. "And there were no other flights on that day. I think it was a dangerous day to fly or something." I stifle the chuckle bubbling in my stomach. “I heard Rome is such a pretty city,” a petite girl says from beside Lucian. I have seen her before. Lirra, the Beta’s daughter. “Will you take me with you when you go there next?” Her fingers draw circles on Lucian’s arm as she gazes at him, but he doesn’t flinch. Still, he doesn’t pull away from her. A smirk graces his lips, the same one he wore when he walked into me in the west wing. “I don’t know,” he answers, not exactly looking at her. “A lot of other girls have asked me the same question. I’m thinking of asking you all to take numbers.” Evelara laughs, but Darian does not. "I'm hungry," Lucian mutters suddenly, casually taking Lirra’s hand off his body as he sits up on the couch. “I totally forgot about that because I was eager to see Darian.” “I’ll have one of the slaves bring some food to your room,” Evelara says at once, getting on her feet. Being the lady of the house and the Luna of the Greyhide pack looks good on her, I have to admit. Lucian frowns slightly. “I already know who I want to serve me.” This causes Evelara to pause. “You just got back. How do you…” “Amaya.” He stares directly at me, where I am hiding behind the arch. He must have seen me the minute I got here. Was he waiting for me? Everyone turns to stare at me. It is impossible to back away or act like I haven’t been there for a while. So, I take a few steps forward, keeping my head bowed low and hoping the full glare of light doesn’t wake the crest. “Lucian.” I look up in time to see the scowl I am so familiar with return to Darian’s face. “We have a lot of hands for that. Leave Amaya alone.” There is a warning beneath his calm demeanour. Even Evelara notices it. “Amaya is one of the hands, isn’t she?” Lucian counters. He seems to be having a great time with this. “There’s nothing wrong with her serving my food. Unless…” What is Lucian doing? I risk a glance at Darian, and I feel it. The mate bond. He hates that his brother wants me personally, but cannot say why because of Evelara. Still, he clenches his jaw and folds his hands into fists, as if preparing for a war. His scent changes, now tainted with something darker. Possession. I recognize it because I can feel everything that goes through him. “She’s busy,” Darian retorts. “Aren’t you, Amaya?” It isn’t an ordinary question. It’s laden with an instruction. But Darian has to do more than that ot get his brother to back down. “I insist, Darian.” “How about I…” Evelara begins to say, but I cut in, probably making her hate me even more. “I can do it.” I bring my eyes back to the ground, not wanting to look into Darian’s eyes. “I’ll bring his food to his room.” Lucian looks like a child who has just been handed his favorite toy, as a smile covers his features. I don't wait to hear anymore, walking to the kitchen to grab a tray. I place some toast, juice, cheese, and sausages on it before heading upstairs. His door is slightly open. “Lucian?” “What’s the deal with you and my brother?”DARIANThe council chamber smelled of candle wax and ink. The air inside was heavy with voices, complaints, demands, suggestions, all directed at me. Ever since the portal had appeared in the woods, whispers of rebellion and fear had spread like wildfire through the pack. Now my desk was buried in reports, grievances, and proposals for “increased security.”And every time I looked up, Theron’s eyes were there. Watching me. Waiting for me to falter.“The servants must be questioned,” he said for the fifth time that morning, his voice cutting through the chamber like a blade. “Someone saw movement near the woods that night. It could have been one of them. We cannot dismiss the possibility.”I leaned back in my chair, fingers steepled, forcing my face into calm neutrality. “We don’t have proof of that. The warriors already swept the grounds. Nothing.”“Proof?” Theron sneered. “Alpha, with respect, proof comes after we interrogate. Fear is growing. If you do not act, you risk appearing we
AMAYAThe morning air in the pack house always carried a weight of silence before the bustle began. I moved through the corridor quickly, hoping to slip into the kitchens before Evelara noticed me. But of course, her voice cut through the stillness like a blade.“Amaya.”I froze, my heart stuttering. Slowly, I turned. Evelara leaned against the wall near the staircase, her silk robe draped around her like armor. Her smile was too sharp, her eyes glittering with amusement that made my stomach churn.“Yes, my lady?” I said evenly.She tilted her head, studying me. “You were out late last night.”I fought to keep my face neutral. “I was cleaning up after supper. It ran later than usual.”Her smile widened, predatory. “Interesting. Because I happened to notice you going into Lucian’s room.”Blood drained from my face. For a split second, panic clawed at my throat. But I forced myself to breathe, to keep my expression calm.“You must have been mistaken,” I said quietly.Her laugh was sharp
LUCIANThe pack house has always been full of noise.There's always warriors stomping through the halls, Evelara's shrill voice cutting through silence like a blade, the hushed whispers of servants who think no one hears them. But tonight, it is quiet. Too quiet.I glance down the corridor to make sure no one is watching before I push my door open and gesture for Amaya to follow. She hesitates, eyes flicking left and right, her body tense like a deer about to bolt."No one's here. And before you argue with me, you know that no one comes into my room without my authorization," I say softly. "You'll be safe."Her lips press into a thin line, but after a moment she slips inside. I shut the door behind us, turning the lock with a quiet click. For the first time in weeks, I feel the space is mine alone and now hers, too.Amaya stands near the window, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Moonlight spills across her face, catching the wariness in her eyes.“You really think this is wi
LUCIANThe only news that's been going around the pack was about the appearance of a mysterious portal.I couldn't blame them. No one has seen anything like that in centuries, so it's only normal that there would be a lot of chatter surrounding it.The reactions of the people, too, have been different. Ranging from curiosity to amazement to fear, let's just say there hasn't been a shortage of emotions.The portal hasn’t left my mind since the night the alarms rang. The warriors talk about it in whispers still, some swearing they saw a tear in the air itself, others insisting it was nothing more than a trick of the moonlight. Darian buried the whole matter under orders and silence, but silence doesn’t erase memory.I remember the horn’s cry, the panic in the corridors, the search parties running through the woods. And I remember seeing her. Amaya. Slipping back into the pack house from the shadows, her hair wild, her clothes clinging to her like she’d been running. No one else noticed
DARIANThe alarm still echoes in my head long after the horn’s last wail dies into silence. The corridors are buzzing like a hive kicked open, servants whispering and warriors rushing in and out of formation. I can feel the unease spreading through the pack like smoke. Something happened in the woods. Something no one can explain.I stand at the head of the council table, fingers pressed flat against the polished wood. Lucian sits opposite, his arms folded casually but his eyes alert, following every word. Theron is pacing, his robes whispering around his ankles, the smug set of his mouth already promising trouble. Evelara is perched near him, her posture graceful, her smile thin, her eyes darting toward me far too often.“Reports say light was seen deep in the northern woods,” Theron says, his tone already sharp. “Bright enough to wake half the patrols and send the guard dogs into frenzy. Warriors claim it was no lantern, no torch. Some swear it tore the sky itself.”Murmurs ripple a
AMAYAThe woods are darker tonight. Clouds cover the moon, the air heavy with the damp scent of moss and pine. Every rustle of leaves sounds louder than it should, but still I push deeper into the trees. My heart pounds, but it isn’t from fear of what lurks in the forest, it’s from what I’ve chosen to do.Harken’s warning echoes in my mind. But I can’t ignore it anymore. The surges inside me are growing stronger, harder to control. If I don’t understand them soon, they’ll swallow me whole.I stop in a small clearing, far from the house. My breath forms a white puff in the chill air. I rub my palms together, remembering the patterns I traced from the healing texts, the circles, the symbols. My hand still aches faintly from the last burn, but tonight I need answers.“All right,” I whisper to myself. “Slow. Careful.”I press my palms outward, imagining the warmth gathering in my chest and flowing down through my arms. At first, nothing happens. Just the soft sway of branches above me and