All Chapters of The Second Chance Werewolf: Chapter 221 - Chapter 230

Alexei’s PovWhat had started with the symbols, had begun to transition into something I couldn't quite comprehend.These sketches weren’t random anymore.The curves were too deliberate. The shapes were too ancient. Too familiar.I had observed some of them before: etched into ancient books, carved into stone deep below the Keep's darkest passageways.The worst part was that he had no recollection of drawing them.He would be softly humming to himself seated on the floor, then blink and momentarily frown as though noticing the symbols for the first time. It startled me much more than I wanted to admit. Not even Nikolai had missed the shift. Quietly but intently, he watched Ivan now as though waiting for something neither of us dared to mention.And the dreams. They left him sweating and whispering to those who weren't there. Unfamiliar names. Places no child should learn.Tonight it was happening once more.W

Lily's PovThe marsh's silence was never really quiet. Things crept under the stillness. Whispered. waited. And I too did the same.I bent down in the dying tree's hollow, its gnarled roots wrapping around me like bony fingers. Suitable for someone like me is a cradle. My once-vivid cloak draped from my shoulders like a sorrow-soaked rag, and the ground smelled of mildew and time. The earth was wet. Smoke curled in thin, hesitant spirals above the little bone bowl in front of me. Inside like tenacious echoes, remnants of the last botched ritual still clung. The strength I once effortlessly drew now mocked me in bits—maddening, pathetic bits.I had lost everything that was mine. Almost.They believed I had been annihilated. That the binding spell's response had somehow probably killed me. Still, I wasn't dead. I had just been cut down. Divested of form, thrown into the spaces between what is and what was. I stayed there, in the shadows of memory and

Enrique's PovThe fire in the hearth danced low and slow, casting flickering shadows across the far side of the room. Legs crossed, fingers touching under my chin, I sat quietly. My eyes weren't exactly on the fire. They were sharply focused on the window. I heard a rattling sound, and I saw the cast of a shadow against the wall.Nora.She was standing close to the window, her back to me, she was dressed as one of Nikolai's inner circle guards. The illusion was perfect, even in the way she scratched her neck. Just like the real one did when anxious. A flawless imitation. She was my most powerful weapon, the secret to all. And she had brought me what I needed tonight.Her voice soft, as she spoke, "The boy's routine hasn't changed. They keep him near the East wing. There's guard shifts every four hours, but he plays at the gardens by himself after dinner. Always watched, but never by more than one guard at once.”I closed my eyes for a minute,

Lyra's PovI sat quietly on the bench watching Ivan play around the garden. He was having the time of his life. Nikolai had left a few minutes ago to go sort somethings out.I knew he had a reason he wanted to talk. All the while he was talking and asking me questions, I took note of his expression. I could see the worry and unease in his eyes.Almost like there was something else he was hiding from me. A secret he couldn't quite let me into.Nikolai was good at masking his emotions and intentions…but I always saw right through them.I pondered for a moment about what he had asked. As normal as the situation might have seemed that day, it was still just as strange. I had not been able to shake the icky feeling off.Something was off. Something had happened that day. I wasn't drunk. I didn't drink as much to have been drunk to the point in which I blacked out.“Careful Ivan!” I yelled at Ivan, who had suddenly trippe

Alexei’s PovI steepedThe morning air was crisp enough to sting my lungs when I stepped outside. I welcomed it. I’d been drowning in thoughts lately—Lyra’s absence, Ivan’s strange connection to Lily, Enrique’s growing shadow in all of this—and I needed something solid, something mundane, to hold on to. The orphanage project had been that anchor for months. Bricks and beams were easier to manage than prophecies and betrayal.Juliette was already waiting by the car when I approached. She had that bright, eager smile that never seemed to fade, no matter how dark the world got.“Ready to go play forewoman?” she teased.“I’m always ready,” I said, forcing a smile of my own. “Let’s just hope they’re on schedule.”The drive to the construction site was quiet except for the occasional hum of tires on gravel. I found myself staring out the window, watchin