บททั้งหมดของ The Whispers in the Woods: บทที่ 131 - บทที่ 140

It felt like an eternity waiting for him to connect with Jackson. The last thing I wanted was to tap into his mind too soon and jeopardize his bond with Jackson. Just hearing his voice again made me feel like I was glowing from the inside out. Logically, it hadn't been long since we last spoke, but emotionally, it felt as though weeks had passed without the comfort of his words. “Brodie.” Tentatively reaching out to him. Even though I had already managed to get through to him, I still wasn’t sure it was going to work.“Jackson is on his way. He said that you left with Tyler, so you can tell him he’s banished as soon as I get out of this cell.” I wanted to laugh. It was exactly how Tyler had expected Brodie to react. Not only did I find it amusing, but it still gave me a warm glow inside when he got overprotective. As though I had my own guardian werewolf looking out for me.“Nope. Sorry I don’t deliver threats.” Of course, Tyler could hear every word I said, so he woul

Jackson had insisted I get some sleep, and it was long overdue. He also insisted that I take his bed, dismissing my objections with a wave of his hand, claiming he wasn’t even using it. When I finally woke up in his bed, the familiar, soothing scent of him lingered on the pillow, momentarily allowing me to forget everything that had been happening recently. I dragged myself out of the pit of blankets, still clad in my pyjamas, and made my way to the kitchen in search of a cup of coffee.Jackson's place was considerably smaller than the cabin Brodie and I shared. It was all on one level, with everything tightly squeezed together to maximize space. To make room for the travel cot, he had stood the coffee table on its end, creating a makeshift barrier. Luckily, Theo didn’t have to share with Penny and Aiden. He stubbornly refused to sleep in the travel cot, attempting to chew his way out of it as if it were a chew toy. Instead, he curled up on the soft chair beside the sofa.

I didn’t know what he expected me to glean from the so-called prophecy. The vague words could be twisted to mean anything, and I recoiled at the thought of anyone believing that my precious babies were some sort of saviours. They were just babies, innocent and fragile, and they didn’t deserve to bear that kind of weight on their tiny shoulders. The thought sent a pang through my heart, and I felt a fierce protectiveness surge within me. “That doesn’t mean anything,” I replied, my voice steady but laced with a quiet intensity, “or it could mean a million different things.” I crossed my arms tightly, as if trying to shield myself from the burden of expectations that loomed like a dark shadow over our lives.“I know that. Which is why I haven’t mentioned it.” Despite his agreement, my anger at him continued to surge.“Is that why you brought me here?” The thought sprang into my mind unbidden, escaping my lips before I could rein it in, each word leaving a little dent in m

Each day, we would venture out for a couple of hours, and Marcus would guide me through the mental aspects of my powers first. As he spoke, his voice took on a soothing quality, each word an invitation to explore the depths of my abilities. The world around us faded away, leaving only the sound of rustling leaves and the gentle murmur of the wind as I focused intently on his teachings.Once I had mentally exhausted myself, we would shift our focus to combat training. The thrill of anticipation thrummed through my veins as we engaged in our sparring sessions, each clash of bodies echoing like a storm brewing in the distance. To ensure we stayed beyond Brodie’s watchful eyes, we moved our fights farther away from camp.Brodie had asked me countless times where I disappeared to each day. Yet, I refused to disclose the truth. My training was something I wanted to keep to myself for at least a little while longer.I had explicitly asked Brodie not to spy on me, yet I

I stood in the meeting cabin more than a little anxious. It was stupid. I was treating an informal meal with friends like it was a night out at the Ritz. If we were eating with Jackson and Mikkel, I would have just thrown on a hoodie and leggings, pulling my hair into a messy bun to try to conceal the level of greasiness. I didn’t know why going for tea with Gerald and Helena was different, but it was. It could have been the way I had been forced to earn Gerald’s approval and my desperate need not to disappoint him and lose that approval again. Then there was Helena; as a teacher for my kids, I desperately wanted her to see me as a typical mother: respectful, demure, classy. I was certain that I was the only mother in the camp who used her free time to take punches to the face and kicks to the stomach. The vast majority of mothers i