Chapter 1
The woman jumped from her bed, heart pounding. She strained to listen—there it was again. That sound. “No… no… this can’t be happening,” she whispered, panic in her voice, as she rushed into the next room. She glanced at the one-year-old boy sleeping peacefully in his crib, then turned her eyes to the small white bed across the room. The little girl was still asleep, curled under a blanket, her breathing soft and slow. “She’s only three,” the woman murmured, lifting the girl into her arms. “They can’t take her. She’s just a baby.” “Samantha?” a sleepy male voice called from behind her. “What are you doing, love?” “Carl,” she said in a hushed voice, opening the window. “They’re coming for her. I can hear them. I can’t let them take her. Watch Elias—I’ll take her to safety.” Without waiting for a reply, she jumped through the window and took off toward the forest beyond. Her bare feet pounded the earth as the sounds behind her grew louder, closer. “Mama?” the little girl asked sleepily, her voice muffled against Samantha’s shoulder. “Where are we going?” “Just hold on, baby. Mama won’t let them take you. You’re safe with me.” “What is scared, Mama?” Samantha’s eyes welled with tears. “Something you’ll never feel,” she whispered. “Now hold tight.” She ran faster. Samantha knew this forest like the back of her hand, but now, everything felt foreign. Nothing was where it should be. “Where the hell is the river? I can’t smell the water…” she muttered, voice tight with panic. “Take a left, Mama. It’s behind the clearing where we had a picnic last week,” the little girl said calmly. Samantha turned sharply and burst into the clearing. She stopped, sniffing the air. They were close. Too close. They were surrounded. A low growl built in her chest as she clutched her daughter protectively. “She’s not yours to take. She’s my baby. Mine!” From the shadows of the trees, twelve white wolves emerged, encircling her. One stepped forward. “Stay away from us!” she shouted. “I will fight you to the death for her—and you know I’m not bluffing.” The lead wolf halted, then slowly shifted into a human form. His hair was as white as snow, and his eyes held an unsettling kindness. “Samantha,” he said gently. “She needs to come with us. Now.” Samantha dropped to her knees, sobbing. “She’s my baby. How can you ask me to give her up? I love her—I really love her.” “If you truly love her,” the man said, stepping closer, “then you’ll let her go.” Her hands trembled as she set the little girl down. She took the child’s hands and stared into her brilliant grey eyes. “My beautiful baby girl… I love you.” Her voice cracked. “I will always love you. And Daddy loves you too. So, so much. You don’t have to go. I can—” “But Mama,” the girl interrupted softly, “I saw this in my dream. I know I have to go with them. It’s okay.” She cupped Samantha’s face with her tiny hands. Samantha, tears falling freely now, unclasped the golden chain from around her neck—a single charm dangling from it—and fastened it around her daughter’s. She kissed the girl’s forehead. The old man stepped closer and lifted the child into his arms. “So much power in such a little body,” he murmured, transfixed by her eyes. The girl turned to look at Samantha, still kneeling, clutching her chest. “I will remember you, Mama. You, Daddy, and Elias,” she said, touching the pendant at her neck. As the moonlight touched it, the image of Artemis, the Greek goddess of the hunt, shimmered to life. “How appropriate,” the old man whispered, touching the charm. “It’s time. We’re already late.” The group of thirteen disappeared into the forest’s shadows. Samantha’s anguished howl filled the night. Back at the house, Carl stood at the window, staring at the moon. “You better be watching over my daughter, Goddess,” he said quietly. “I’ll take care of Sam and Elias.” A single tear fell onto the small white teddy bear he held—her only reminder. Everything else—her clothes, her scent, her photos—was gone. She was gone.Theo’s Point of View Santorini looks like it fell straight out of a dream. Whitewashed buildings stacked like sugar cubes against a backdrop of endless blue. Sunlight dances on the sea, and the air smells like wine, salt, and every reason to stop searching and just stay forever. But I’m not here for paradise. I’m here for her. And I don’t even know where here is. Parker steps off the ferry next to me, sunglasses sliding down his nose. “Okay. Not to be dramatic or anything, but if I lived here, I’d never tell anyone either.” Michael groans. “Great. So she could be anywhere with a coastline, eating olives and painting sunsets, while we’re out here playing Guess That Beach.” “Maybe it’s not about the beach,” Elias says thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s a metaphor.” Lenny perks up. “Like… the sea is actually her soul, and we have to dive deep into—” “Lenny,” Marcus deadpans, “if you say soul dive one more time, I’m pushing you into the caldera( which is a volcanic crater).”
Eva’s Point of View The canvas dries under the sun, and I stare at it, unsure if it’s finished or not. The waves came out softer than I intended—more dream than sea—but maybe that’s okay. The cabin, tucked in the corner with its faded roof and the flowers I didn’t plant but pretend I did, looks… cozy. Safe. Like a memory I’ve never had. I bite my lip. “Artemis?” “Yes, my darling?” Her voice is far too smug today. “Does it look stupid?” “Stupid? No. Delicious? Yes. I would lick that painting if I had a tongue.” I snort and cover my mouth with paint-stained fingers. “Please don’t ever say that to anyone else.” “Why not? I told you, I once licked a statue of Apollo. Marble cheeks are surprisingly—” “Nope. Don’t finish that sentence.” “You’re no fun.” I roll my eyes, pick up the canvas, and start toward the main house. Paris is out front repairing a loose gate with Nikos when I reach them. His salt-and-pepper hair is tousled, and there’s a streak of dirt across his shirt. He
Theo’s Point of View I can’t sit still anymore. Dreams are something, not nothing. I know her soul reached for mine. Even if she didn’t recognize me… even if she said she didn’t love me… she dreamed of me. That has to count for something. Aries agrees. He hasn’t shut up in my head all morning. “We act now. While she’s still dreaming of us.” So I call them all. By midmorning, we’re gathered around the long war table in the strategy room. Not for battle. Not for politics. For her. Parker. Trixie. Michael and Lenny. Elias. Marcus. And Sonia. The air is thick with worry, but there’s something else beneath it—determination. “She’s alive,” I start. “And I think… I think she reached me last night. In a dream.” Trixie leans forward, eyes wide. “Like a real dream? Soul-to-soul kind of thing?” I nod. “She didn’t know who I was. She told me she didn’t love me. But she was there. We were on a beach. The sky was orange. Sunset, I think. She looked like herself… but different. Sof
Theo’s Point of View A week has passed. Seven days of silence. No sign of her. No bond. No voice. Nothing. Just the slow suffocation of hope. Nathaniel says she’s safe. That the spell took her somewhere protected. That we shouldn’t interfere. That we should give her space. But how am I supposed to breathe in a world that doesn’t have her in it? I’m Alpha. I’m king. I’ve led armies and bled for my people. But I’ve never felt so useless. The castle feels heavier with every passing day. Every corridor echoes with her absence. I can still hear her voice in the halls, like a ghost just out of reach. She’s gone. And worse… she chose to be. I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of the silence pressing down on my chest. I haven’t slept properly in days. The bond was quiet before, but now it’s gone completely — as if something has been severed. Not cut. Muted. “I miss you,” I whisper to the empty room. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you from me.” The moonlight
Eva’s Point of View The pack house smells like roasted garlic, warm bread, and too many stories I haven’t heard. The laughter echoes through the stone walls and wood beams like it’s been waiting for generations to stretch its legs. I step inside and nod politely as Kristina waves me in from across the long table. Kostas is already sitting, arguing over something ridiculous with Katerina — I think it’s about whose turn it is to wash the breakfast dishes from yesterday. I sit beside Kristina, and a plate is placed in front of me without question. Grilled fish, lemon potatoes, and bright vegetables dripping in olive oil. It smells like home. Not my home. But someone’s. “Everything alright, dear?” Kristina asks quietly, as the others fall into another round of laughter. I nod once. “Yes. Thank you.” I don’t mention the painting. I don’t tell her about the man who came to life beneath my fingers. I don’t know how to explain him. Instead, I eat slowly. I listen. I smile when it fe
Eva’s Point of View The door clicks softly behind Kristina, and silence returns. The kind that wraps itself around your skin like a damp shawl. Familiar. Too familiar. I stand there for a long time, still holding the canvas as if it weighs more than it should. Then I place it by the window, letting the late afternoon sun spill across it. I open the box of paints. The bristles of the brush are soft, untouched. Waiting. I don’t plan anything. My hands move on their own. I dip the brush in water, swirl it into pale blue. A whisper of sky appears on the canvas. Then deeper blue, layered over it like memory pressing down on joy. The sea begins to take shape, stroke by stroke. Wide. Endless. Alive. I mix in grey now. Not too much. Just enough to show the wind. Just enough to say: this is not paradise. This is a memory of it. I add the curve of the shoreline next — soft and subtle. The sand is warm beige, with hints of burnt gold. Not perfectly even. No real beach is. I paint it mes