LOGINThe darkness surrounded me, thick and suffocating. I couldn’t see anything, but I could feel something lurking just beyond my vision. Cold air nipped at my skin, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. My breathing was shallow, panicked.
I knew this place.
I was back in the forest—the one from my nightmares. The trees loomed high, their twisted branches clawing at the sky, and beneath my feet, the ground felt unstable, like it might give way at any moment. The moon above, full and bright, cast an eerie glow over the landscape, and I could hear something moving in the shadows.
“Luca?” I called out instinctively, my voice trembling. But no one answered.
Suddenly, a low growl echoed from behind me.
My heart leapt into my throat. I turned, my pulse racing, but all I could see were those glowing eyes staring at me from the darkness—the same eyes I’d seen haunting my nightmares, the same eyes that belonged to the Echo.
It was coming for me.
I felt a sudden rush of panic. Running as fast as my legs could carry me, I felt like the ground was quicksand beneath me. Each subsequent step felt more difficult, as if I was being dragged downward into the ground. The increasing growling sound came closer and louder, making me feel like the Echo's breath was right behind me.
No, no, no...
Suddenly, I tripped, crashing to the ground. The cold dirt scraped against my skin, and I could feel the presence looming over me now, the weight of it suffocating. I attempted to shout, but no noise emerged. The glowing eyes of the Echo were mere inches away from mine, its tall shadowy figure looming over me like a frightening dream come to life.
This is it. This is how it ends.
Suddenly, I experienced a burst of heat that didn't belong to me, seemingly coming from nowhere. It was powerful, protective. It wrapped around me like a shield, keeping the Echo at bay.
Luca.
Even in the dream, I knew it was him. I could feel him, his strength, his anger, his fear for me. But he wasn’t here—he couldn’t be. This was just a dream, wasn’t it?
“Luca, please!” I cried out, desperately reaching for him. The Echo snarled, and its claws dug into the earth beside me. I braced for the end.
And then, just like that, everything vanished.
I sat upright in bed, struggling to catch my breath. I felt my heart racing in my chest as I attempted to rid myself of the lasting fear from my horrible dream. Although my room was dimly lit, it didn't provide a sense of security. That nightmare… it felt too real, too vivid.
I felt my hands shaking as I ran them through my hair, attempting to relax. I couldn't rid myself of the feeling of being watched by the eyes of the Echo, or the feeling of Luca's presence guiding me away from the darkness.
Then I heard it. A soft creak echoed from across the room.
I froze.
There, standing in the doorway, his chest rising and falling like he had been running, was Luca.
His eyes locked on mine, wild and full of worry. “Quinn…” His voice was hoarse, raw, like he’d woken up from the same nightmare.
“You were there,” I whispered, my heart still hammering in my chest. “In the dream… I felt you.”
“I felt your fear, Quinn. I couldn’t stay away.” Luca said as he took a step forward, his gaze not leaving mine. His whole demeanor was different....calmer, more vulnerable.
My breath caught in my throat. “What?” The words barely came out as I tried to process what he was saying. “How—how did you—”
He crossed the room in seconds, and before I could even think, Luca was in front of me, his strong arms wrapping around me and pulling me against his chest. I didn’t even have time to react; he just held me tightly, like he was afraid to let go.
I froze at first, not sure what to do, but the warmth of his body, the strength of his embrace—it was impossible to ignore. The tension, the fear, everything that had built up inside of me melted away as I leaned into him.
Luca's hold was strong yet tender, and I could sense his heart beating in sync with mine. His chin was positioned on my head, and I sensed his breath against my hair. "He assured her, speaking in a gentle and calming tone. "I've got you."
This wasn't the Luca that I was familiar with. Not the hostile, somber, remote individual who bullied me. This was different. Something that was new to me.
Gradually, he withdrew slightly to cradle my face in his hands, his touch delicate but thrilling. His fingers lightly touched my skin, causing me to shiver. I glanced up at him, my breath getting stuck in my throat when I locked eyes with him, the intensity and fire still present but now accompanied by a new emotion. Feeling empathy and understanding for others. Worry.
Something deeper.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. It was like the world had shrunk down to just the two of us, standing there in the darkness. His gaze softened, and I saw it—something I never thought I’d see in him.
Love.
He didn’t say it, but it was there, unspoken in the way he looked at me, in the way his thumb gently brushed over my cheek, in the way his breathing matched mine.
“Luca…” I whispered, my voice barely audible. I didn’t know what else to say.
His hands stayed on my face, holding me there, and the space between us felt like it was disappearing. My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. The intensity of the moment, the way he was looking at me—it was overwhelming. Every part of me was buzzing with the nearness of him, with the closeness that was unlike anything we’d shared before.
But he didn’t kiss me.
Instead, Luca’s forehead gently rested against mine, his breath mingling with mine, his eyes never leaving me. The intensity of the moment hung in the air, crackling between us like electricity, but it wasn’t about lust or anger. It was about something far rawer—something deeper, something real.
“I’m not who you think I am,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “And I wish I could be better for you.”
I didn’t know how to respond. My mind was spinning, my heart racing. I wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.
He pulled back just a little, his eyes searching mine for something, something he wasn’t sure he’d find. The weight of the silence that fell between us was palpable, but it wasn't awkward. It felt as if we were both anticipating something, although I wasn't sure what.
Before I had the chance to speak, before I could comprehend what was happening, Luca's expression changed slightly, as though he could feel something - something beyond the room.
He stepped back, his eyes scanning the room, his muscles tensing.
“Luca,” I asked, my voice shaky, “what’s wrong?”
His jaw clenched, and when he turned back to me, his face had hardened. “We’re not alone. Someone’s coming.”
He’s not a red flag. He’s the entire warning system.
The sun was setting low behind the towering Blackthorn estate, casting streaks of amber and crimson across the sky. The place looked more like a fortress than a home, with its wrought-iron gates and endless rows of perfectly trimmed hedges. My heart was already in my throat, but when I saw her walking toward us, I felt my chest tighten like a vice.Casey.Her smile was polite but sharp, the kind that felt like it was carved from marble—cold, unyielding, and fake as hell. She strolled up with the grace of someone who knew she was untouchable, her sleek navy-blue dress hugging her figure just enough to be classy but not so much as to be vulgar. Her eyes flicked to me, lingering for a moment longer than necessary, and I knew she was assessing me. Calculating.“They’re waiting for you inside,” Casey said, her eyes darting to Cale like she wasn’t sure if she should curtsy or bow. Her gaze barely touched me. To her, I wasn’t a threat. Not yet, anyway.Cale’s grip on my arm tightened as if h
Being "perfect" was never something I aimed for, but here I am, sitting in a high-end café dressed in a sleek beige outfit that hugs every inch of me like a second skin. My legs are crossed just so, my posture elegant and deliberate. The soft leather of the chair beneath me feels too plush, like it knows I don't belong here. But I make it look like I do. My every movement is measured, calculated, and graceful. I lift my coffee cup to my lips, pinky slightly raised, and sip slowly. My eyes stay forward, focused, even though I can feel the stares of passersby through the glass window.They always look. Men. Women. Even the baristas try to be subtle but fail miserably. I can’t blame them. It’s the aura I’ve built. I’m not just another woman sitting in a café. I’m the Luna. Cale’s Luna.The girl who once flinched at the mention of his name is gone. She’s buried so deep I doubt I could dig her up if I tried. This version of me? She walks beside him into meetings with alphas of other packs,
The smell of rosewater and jasmine clung to my skin, the oils still fresh from the omega women’s hands. My skin felt slick and soft, like I’d been molded from wax and dipped in honey. They’d scrubbed every inch of me, their faces blank as they worked. No words. No kindness. Just hands rough from duty. My hair was pulled back, loose curls spilling over my shoulders, and the dress they’d given me—if it could be called a dress—was nothing more than a slip of silk clinging to my body like a second skin. Every part of me was on display. Every flaw. Every scar. Every reminder of what had been done to me.But they didn’t see that. No one did. Not anymore.I caught my reflection in the mirror across the room and barely recognized myself. Pale blue eyes, sharp and unyielding. Not the dull, lifeless stare I’d seen for years. My gaze flickered with something I hadn’t seen in a long time. Control. Purpose.He thinks he’s testing me.“Trinity,” I whispered in my mind, my lips unmoving."I’m here,
CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains contents of violence that may disturb sensitive readers and can be triggering for survivors of trauma and abuse.(Quinn’s perspective)Pain used to be a constant. Not the kind that fades after a few hours or even days. No, this was the kind that buried itself so deep in your bones that it felt like it would be part of you forever. But now… I don’t feel it anymore.The first time I noticed it, I thought I’d gone numb. It wasn’t a slow process either—one day, I was screaming and thrashing under their blows; the next, I just... stopped. The barbed wire bat hit my ribs with a sickening thwack, but I didn’t flinch. The guard cursed under his breath and swung it again, harder this time. Still nothing. My skin tore, and my bones ached, but there was no reaction. No sound. No satisfaction for them.I’d won that day. Not because I fought back. No, because I didn’t. They couldn’t break me anymore. Their weapons, their fists, their fire—none of it mattered.
(Luca’s perspective)I used to believe in things like love. Loyalty. Humanity. I thought those things made us strong—made me strong.They didn’t. They made me weak. A fool. A dreamer who thought he could keep his world intact with hope and sheer determination.But hope is a liar.It whispered in my ear for months, telling me she’d come back. That I’d find her. That Quinn would be okay.She wasn’t.I knew it the moment I burned the last picture of her. The edges curled under the flame, the image of her face shrinking into black ash. That photograph was the final piece of her—the last link to the boy I used to be.The boy who searched for her.The boy who loved her.Gone.I stood there, staring into the fire as the smoke curled into the night sky. My hand tightened around the lighter until my knuckles turned white. This was it. The final step.I let the lighter fall into the flames, and with it, I let Quinn go.I used to think I was different from my father. That I could lead this pack
CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains contents of violence that may disturb sensitive readers and can be triggering for survivors of trauma and abuse.(Quinn’s perspective)I lay on the cold stone floor, the chill biting into my skin, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my bones. Every part of me throbbed, a dull reminder of what I had become—a prisoner, a plaything for the pack to break.My breathing was shallow, each inhale laced with pain. Ribs—probably cracked. Lips—split and crusted with dried blood. Eye—swollen shut. The room stank of iron, sweat, and fear. My fear. Their victory.They’d beaten me again today, just like yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that.At first, I thought I’d die from it. I hoped I would. Death would’ve been a mercy, an escape. But no. My cursed blood healed me. Every single time. Bones snapped back into place, bruises faded, and cuts stitched themselves together. I was the perfect punching bag—never staying broken long enough







