All Chapters of Another Chance : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Shadows That RestRissa’s POVI woke to silence.Not the kind that creeps in before disaster but the rare, unfamiliar quiet that follows survival. It was soft, almost sacred. No howls in the distance, no explosions in the air. Just calm. Peaceful.For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t running and watching over my shoulder. The thoughts of fear evacuated my mind, not being to sleep for weeks took it's toll on me.Finally having a place to rest ,was a great deal for me, the bed in my room was soft, the pillows clean, the warmth around me too unfamiliar. My body didn’t ache. My breath didn’t catch in panic. This was what I just needed. A clear head to strategize.I sat up slowly and squinted at the sunlight coming through the thin curtains. Outside the cold windows, Icicles hung from the edges. The sky was light blue and I saw wolves walking around in the yard below. This estate. I had imagined it as something out of an old war story battered, hollowed out, haunted. But

The Storm She CarriesMark’s POVThe wind had changed.That was the first thing I noticed when I stepped onto the balcony before dawn. It wasn’t the usual chill drifting down from the hills; it was sharper, restless. The kind of air that carried the scent of blood before a battle.I held the railing tighter and looked out at the horizon.Nothing moved.But the silence felt armed.But I didn’t trust it.Eamon’s report from the northern fence kept circling in my head. Old magic. Shadow cloaks. And the name I didn’t want to say out loud: Merek.He was supposed to be dead. I’d seen the explosion myself, felt the heat singe the back of my neck as the fortress caved in. But some monsters know how to cheat death. Some thrive on it.Behind me, the estate had begun to stir. Guards rotated shifts. Metal clinked against leather. The kitchen lights flickered on in the east wing. But I didn’t move. My eyes stayed on the tree line.Rissa’s voice echoed from the night before.“I’m not leaving.”By

Lucan's POVFireflies of the nightThe city never slept, but it sure as hell forgot.That’s what I told myself every time I walked these streets, head down, coat collar high, pretending to belong. Steel towers. Glass storefronts. Concrete soaked with old stories no one cared to remember. The pulse of it all, loud, fast, numbing, kept most wolves from paying attention to what lay underneath.But tonight?Tonight, the city felt... off.I stopped in front of a corner store that had long since closed down. Neon still flickered above the cracked window. The metal gate was halfway down, like it couldn’t decide if it was protecting something or giving up.A low hum settled under my skin. The kind I hadn’t felt in months.Not since her.Not since Rissa.It had been too long, and even now, I couldn’t explain why the sound of her name still made my chest tighten like a fist. We hadn’t spoken since the last time I’d seen her storm out of that crumbling hotel, eyes too full of fire for anyone to

The Place That Forgot MeRissa’s POVThe wind carried frost off the cliffs as I moved through the trees, my bare feet silent against damp moss and fallen pine. I hadn’t shifted. Not yet. The wolf inside me scratched and snarled, begging for release, but I didn’t trust her right now.I didn’t trust anyone.Not Mark.Not the pack.Not myself.Back at the estate, silence had thickened the halls like smoke. Everyone looked at me like I might break again. I could feel it, the way their eyes slid away, the way conversations died when I entered a room. Like the cracked glass, they were too polite to throw out.I couldn’t take it anymore.So, I ran.Not through the gates. Not past the guards who’d radio in my whereabouts to Mark before I made it past the main road. I went where only ghosts belonged.The cellar tunnel.It had been years since I thought about it. An old servant once told me it led to the western woods. I found the hidden latch beneath the floorboards in the south wing storage a

Rissa’s POVThe Echo InsideI didn’t come here to be found.The bar was quiet tonight. Just a few regulars tucked into booths, faces half-swallowed by the shadows and the cheap lighting. The bartender didn’t ask questions when I walked in. He never did. That was the point of places like this.No names. No titles. No truths.I had ordered a drink but hadn’t touched it. The ice had melted halfway, watering it down into something I couldn’t taste anyway. My fingers were wrapped around the glass, grounding me. Pretending to be normal. Pretending I could pretend.But the truth was, I felt hollow. A whisper in my bones.The last few days had chipped away at something I didn’t even realize was fragile. I’d been clawing to hold it all together to hold me together, but grief had a way of seeping through cracks you didn’t know you had.I came here because this place remembered who I was before everything broke.Before the war. Before the prophecy. Before Mark.Back when I was just a girl with a