WHISPERS OF THE PAST

FLAMES devoured the world.

No—it devoured me.

The heat bit at my skin, burned my lungs, and made my very bones ache as though they had been wrapped in molten rock. Smoke curled thick in the air, choking my breath, and above me, the heavens wept. Rain fell in great torrents, drowning the earth in sorrow.

Yet the fire did not die.

It raged, untamed, licking hungrily at the marble pillars and gilded archways, swallowing the grand halls that once stood tall and proud. My bare feet stumbled over shattered stone, my nightgown torn and damp, clinging to my skin. The storm howled, the wind lashing at my face, but nothing—not the rain, not the thunder, not the fury of the skies—could smother the flames.

And above it all, someone called my name.

“Eira!”

It was him. My lover.

His voice was deep, raw, filled with pain so sharp it sent my heart racing. I fell to my knees. It was desperate, begging, pleading.

My breath came in ragged gasps as I turned, searching through the smoke, through the blinding glow of the fire, tears running down my face. A figure stood beyond the flames, veiled in shadow, in shifting light. I could not see his face, could not reach him.

But I felt him.

The pull. The ache. The terrible, aching need.

I took a step forward—

Pain tore through my chest, too sharp, too unbearable, as though my very soul was being ripped apart. My scream was lost beneath the roar of the fire, beneath the howling wind and the pounding rain.

“Eira!”

His voice rang through the chaos, thick with fear, sending ice through my veins. The flames flared brighter, the heat unbearable, the walls crumbling into ruin.

And then—

Everything went dark.

—

I WOKE with a gasp.

The air felt wrong.

There was no fire, no smoke, no burning. Just the soft crackle of a hearth and the cool press of silk sheets tangled around my legs. My heart was racing, thudding too hard against my ribs, and I could barely catch my breath.

My hands shook as I gripped the blankets. I tried to steady myself, but the tears were already burning behind my eyes, ready to fall. It all felt too real.

The fire.

The pain.

The voice.

Him.

A sob slipped from my throat before I could stop it. I pressed my hand over my mouth, trying to hold it together, but I couldn’t stop the trembling. The way the dream stayed with me—the heat, the ache, the burn.

Why?

Why would I dream of that? Of burning? And his voice…

I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing a deep breath. But the moment I did, I heard it.

Rain.

Soft and tapping against the window.

My stomach turned, and my pulse was racing again. I forced my eyes open and looked around the room, trying to pull myself together.

It was beautiful in here.

The dark wood furniture, the carvings curling around the posts of the bed, the armchair near the fire. The soft glow of the moon slipping through the silk drapes. But none of it mattered.

This wasn’t my room.

I froze, my chest tightening as the memories came rushing back. The man, my mate, the hand on my neck.

And then—nothing.

I pushed the covers off, my legs feeling weak beneath me, but I didn’t stop. I stood up, feet cold against the floor. The nightgown I was wearing brushed against my ankles.

Wait.

I stopped, confusion sweeping over me.

This wasn’t what I’d been wearing before.

My pulse quickened, and I scanned the room, my eyes darting around—looking for what? A sign? A threat?

Before I could take another step, the door creaked open.

I froze.

Owen stepped in, carrying a silver tray. His expression was unreadable as he set the tray down beside the bed with a soft clink.

He met my eyes, exhaling slowly. “Eat.”

I didn’t move. “Where am I?”

Owen didn’t answer.

I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening into fists. I looked at the tray—bread, soup, water. Simple. Harmless. But I didn’t trust it.

Owen sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “He doesn’t like disobedience.”

The words hit me like ice water.

He.

I didn’t need to ask who.

Because the moment the thought crossed my mind, I felt it. The air seemed to shift, something there, pressing down, making my skin prickle.

A presence.

I didn’t need to turn to know he was standing there.

Kael.

Owen gave me a long look before bowing and leaving the room. That’s when Kael stepped out of the shadows, and my heart jumped.

“How did you do that?” I asked, voice shaky as I took a step back, my hands balled into fists, even though fear crawled up my spine.

Kael tilted his head, his eyes glinting in the firelight. “Still as bold as ever.”

I didn’t understand.

I didn’t know him—not until he came and yanked me out of my life.

“I want to go back home,” I said, ignoring him, my words desperate. I’d beg my father, do anything to leave this place.

“I’d rather be there than here—with a man who was nothing more than a story to scare kids—and now that story is real. And I’m terrified.”

Kael stepped closer, his gaze darkening. “You’d rather go back to a place where you’re not wanted?”

I sucked in a sharp breath.

“Besides, you’re marked now, an omega. The mark sits on the back of your neck.”

I reached for my neck without thinking. There was nothing there.

Thunder cracked, the windows slammed open, and the rain poured in, cold air rushing through. I flinched, my body jerking.

Kael paused, his movements swift as he crossed the room, slamming the window shut and pulling the curtains tight.

“You’re scared of the thunder,” he said, more like a statement than a question. “Keep your windows shut. It rains a lot here.”

He stopped a few feet from me, and I backed up instinctively. His presence was overwhelming.

“How did you know?” I asked, and he didn’t answer right away.

His hand twitched like he was about to reach for something, but he didn’t.

“I’m not here to make you uncomfortable,” he said, his voice low, almost amused. “Eat and rest. You have a long journey ahead of you, Lila.”

Then he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

My heart hammered in my chest, and I stood frozen, waiting for the lock to click, for the final seal to trap me here.

But it didn’t come.

The storm raged outside. And all I could think about was how to get the hell out of here.

-

I waited. Seconds stretched into minutes, maybe longer, until the air around me felt still—no footsteps, no scents drifting too close. That was when I moved.

I pushed off the bed and reached the door. My fingers curled around the handle, and with a sharp pull, I yanked it open. The hallway was empty.

Too quiet. Too long. The walls looked old, lined with lanterns that flickered against the dark wood. My heart slammed hard, my breath uneven as I tried to make sense of where I was.

Thunder cracked outside as I reached the end of the hall. I inhaled sharply, sniffing the air, searching for fresh earth, open space—anything that would lead me out. I stayed close to the walls, making sure my steps were silent. But there was no one. No guards. No pack.

Was I even in a pack?

It didn’t matter. I just needed to leave. Needed to beg my father to take me back, to give me another chance—because staying here wasn’t an option. Not with him. Not with this man.

Not with a man who made my chest tighten, who made my throat close up with thing, feelings I couldn’t understand.

The stairs came into view. My pulse pounded in my ears as I moved faster, my fingers shaking as I reached the bottom.

Then thunder cracked again, louder this time, and I jumped. It sounded too close.

I clenched my fists, forcing down the panic. “You have to go, Lila. Now.” The words barely left my lips before I reached the doors and shoved against them.

They burst open with a loud bang.

Cold air rushed in, and rain pelted against my skin as I stepped forward, my chest rising and falling too fast. Another step, then another, until I was fully outside. The ground was wet beneath my bare feet, the earth sinking under my feet as I ran.

I glanced back once, just once, and a shudder ran through me. The mansion loomed in the storm, dark and massive, like something that shouldn’t exist.

I looked away and kept running.

The forest closed in around me, the scent of damp bark and wet leaves thick in my nose. I pushed forward, my legs burning, my breaths turning sharp. There should’ve been houses. A pack. Something. Kael was an Alpha. He had to have a pack.

Then why was there nothing?

A voice rang out behind me, and my chest tightened.

“Lila!”

I didn’t stop.

Didn’t look back.

I pushed harder, my hands swinging, my feet digging into the mud as I panted.

“Lila!”

Too close. The sound shifted, rougher, more guttural.

My vision blurred, the back of my eyes stung—rain or tears, I didn’t know.

The trees thinned. I was almost there. Just a little more, just—

My foot caught something.

The ground disappeared beneath me.

I fell forward, my hands barely reaching out before I hit the dirt, rolling, tumbling. My head slammed into something hard, and for a moment, everything went dark.

When I came to, rain hit my face, cold and hard enough that I had to gasp, but something else blocked it out—a shape towering over me.

Not a wolf. Not fully.

The limbs were too long, the eyes too sharp. It was wrong.

It was different.

Then the fur melted away, shifting into skin, until Owen was kneeling in front of me. His brown hair clung to his face, his chest rising and falling as hard as mine. He reached out, his fingers brushing against my cheek, and I didn’t know why it was so gentle.

Like he wasn’t the one who had just been chasing me down.

I blinked, my head still spinning, my stomach twisting at the look on his face. His voice was quiet when he spoke, raw in a way that felt like it hurt to speak.

“Why do you always try to run?”

I tried to answer, but my lips barely moved. My voice came out slurred, broken and I couldn’t even think.

“W—”

Owen leaned in, pressing his lips against my cheek. Slow. Soft.

Wrong.

Different.

“Do you hate this life so much, Mo—”

The last word was lost to me. Everything went black, and I didn’t have the chance to understand, to ask what was it he was going to say.