|c.6|

The classroom buzzed with the cheerful chaos of children at play. Laughter rang out as the twins, Elara and Sienna, darted between their classmates, their silver-streaked hair catching the light like liquid moonlight. Ms. Claire DuPont watched them closely, her wolf stirring with a strange, aching sadness as it always did when the girls were near.

She couldn’t understand it. Who were these children, and why did they tug so insistently at her instincts?

Throughout the day, Claire found herself watching them more than usual, taking note of the subtle but telling mannerisms they shared: the way they seemed to mirror each other without effort, the unspoken connection that made them move and react as if tethered by an invisible string. Something about them struck a chord of familiarity, though she couldn’t place where she’d seen it before.

It nagged at her through math lessons, coloring time, lunch, and even during the brief moments of peace when the children napped. Claire tried to push the thoughts aside, to focus on her responsibilities, but the questions lingered like an itch she couldn’t scratch.

By the time pickup rolled around, that gnawing sense of curiosity had only deepened, joined now by a peculiar sense of dread. She stood at the classroom door, scanning the crowd of parents arriving for their children. When Channary appeared, Claire’s wolf perked up.

There it was again—that strange pull. It wasn’t the same as with the twins, but it was unmistakably there, like an unfinished melody playing between them.

Channary approached, her expression calm but slightly hesitant. She wore a deep emerald blouse that complemented her silver hair, tied loosely back to reveal her striking features. Claire couldn’t help but notice how tired she seemed, though she carried herself with quiet strength.

“Ms. DuPont,” Channary began, her voice soft. “Do you have a moment?”

Claire smiled, gesturing for her to step inside. “Of course. And please, call me Claire.”

“Claire,” Channary echoed, nodding. She glanced over her shoulder at the twins, who were busy gathering their things. “I… I have a personal question, if you don’t mind.”

Claire’s curiosity piqued. “Not at all. What’s on your mind?”

Channary hesitated, smoothing invisible wrinkles from her blouse before continuing. “The girls mentioned you told the class stories about being a twin. They said you have a brother?”

Claire nodded, her smile widening at the thought of her twin. “Yes, my brother, Caleb. We’re identical twins, and we’ve always been close. Shared everything growing up—clothes, pranks, you name it.”

Channary’s lips curved into a faint smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “What about… pain?”

Claire blinked, momentarily thrown off. “Pain?”

Channary hurried to explain. “Yesterday, Elara scraped her knee pretty bad on the playground. She didn’t cry, didn’t even seem fazed. But Sienna—she was crying like it was her knee that got hurt. They started arguing, accusing each other of faking, and then they asked me if it was possible for twins to feel each other’s pain. I didn’t know what to tell them, so I thought I’d ask someone who might.”

Claire chuckled softly, her laughter light and reassuring. “That’s actually a good question. And yes, sometimes it’s possible. It’s rare, but my brother and I experienced it a few times when we were kids. Nothing major, but enough to make us wonder if it was just coincidence or something more.”

Channary exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, relief softening the tension in her shoulders. “That’s good to know. I didn’t want to dismiss their feelings, but I didn’t want to make it a big deal either.”

“You handled it perfectly,” Claire assured her.

“Thank you,” Channary said sincerely. She glanced toward the twins again, her expression warm but tinged with a hint of sadness.

As she turned to leave, Claire called after her, almost on impulse. “Wait!”

Channary stopped, looking back with a curious tilt of her head.

Claire hesitated, then smiled nervously. “Would you like to meet my brother sometime? He might have some insights about raising twins that could be helpful.”

Channary blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Your brother?”

Claire’s cheeks flushed. “Not like that!” she said quickly, holding up her hands. “I wasn’t trying to set you up or anything. I just thought it might be helpful. Or maybe…” She paused, considering her next words. “Maybe meeting my parents would be better. They raised twins, after all, and they’ve got all kinds of advice they’d love to share.”

Channary’s cheeks colored faintly, but this time she smiled. “That’s very kind of you. I’ll think about it.”

She hesitated before adding, “If I do, I’d like to bring my uncle Keaton along. He’s been a huge part of my girls’ lives, and I’d feel better with him there.”

Claire laughed heartily, and the sound caught Channary off guard. “What’s so funny?” she asked, narrowing her eyes playfully.

“Oh, nothing,” Claire said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “Just that a lot of the women around here will be relieved to hear Keaton’s your uncle and not your…” She trailed off with a smirk.

Channary groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Oh, no. They don’t think we’re—”

“Let’s just say he’s very popular,” Claire teased.

Channary laughed despite herself, shaking her head. “Well, I’ll be sure to let him know he has an impressive fan club.”

The two women parted ways with a newfound sense of ease between them, though Claire’s curiosity about Channary and the twins remained. She watched as the family walked away, her wolf stirring once more.

Whatever connection she had to those children—and their enigmatic mother—it was deeper than she’d imagined. And Claire was determined to uncover the truth.

The twins, Elara and Sienna, were practically bouncing in their seats during the car ride home, their excitement bubbling over like a shaken soda.

“Mom!” Elara chirped, her silver eyes gleaming with excitement. “Guess what!”

“Our teacher, Ms. DuPont, invited us for dinner!” Sienna finished, her voice overlapping her sister’s in their usual seamless way.

Channary blinked, glancing at them through the rearview mirror. “She did, did she?”

“Yes! And she said to bring you too!” Elara added, her tone pleading as she flashed what Channary had begrudgingly started calling the Keaton look.

Sienna leaned forward in her seat, doubling down with her own perfected version of the puppy-dog eyes. “Please, Mama? She said it’s just dinner with her family. It’ll be fun!”

Channary sighed heavily, muttering under her breath, “Damn you, Keaton, for teaching them that trick.” She bit her lip, her fingers tightening briefly on the steering wheel.

“All right,” she said finally, earning triumphant cheers from the backseat. “But only if you clean your room, wash up, and pick out clothes in the next hour. No delays.”

“We promise!” the twins shouted in unison, already scheming how to divide and conquer the chores as the car pulled into their driveway.

Once inside, Channary set the girls to their tasks and immediately dialed Keaton’s number. She paced the kitchen as the line rang, her wolf stirring with unease.

Keaton picked up on the second ring. “Hey, squirt. What’s up?”

“Ms. DuPont invited the girls and me to dinner,” she said without preamble. “Tonight.”

“Tonight?” Keaton repeated, a hint of concern creeping into his voice.

“Yes, and the girls were so excited that I couldn’t say no,” Channary explained, rubbing her temples. “I was hoping you could come with us, but…”

Keaton sighed. “I wish I could, but I’ve got alpha duties tonight. A summit with the neighboring packs—it can’t be avoided. But listen, I’ve got your location tracked. If anything happens, I’ll be there before you know it.”

Channary hesitated, gnawing on her bottom lip. “This’ll be the first time I’m out with them alone. What if—”

“You’ve got this,” Keaton interrupted, his voice firm. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. And besides, I’ll only be a call away. You and the girls will be fine.”

After a moment of silence, Channary reluctantly agreed. “Fine. But if I call, you’d better answer on the first ring.”

“Always do,” Keaton said, his smile evident in his tone.

Feeling slightly reassured, Channary hung up and turned her attention to preparing for the evening. She sent a quick text to Claire, asking for the address. A reply came almost immediately:

“It’s a bit of a drive to my parents’ house. If you send me your address, I’ll pick you up. Save you the trip.”

Channary exhaled in relief. That solved at least one problem. She sent over her address and followed up with a question about attire.

Claire’s response was simple: “Casual.”

Channary eyed her closet skeptically. Casual? That could mean anything. Finally, she chose a form-fitting sweater dress in a deep burgundy hue and matching heels—an outfit her daughters had picked out once, declaring it made her look “like a princess.” She curled her silver-streaked hair into soft waves and added light makeup to enhance her moon-kissed features.

For the twins, she dressed them in matching floral dresses with sleek ponytails braided into fishtails. She allowed them a swipe of the glittery, cheap lip gloss they’d begged for at the grocery store. Their excitement as they twirled in front of the mirror was infectious, and for a moment, Channary felt her nerves ease.

When Claire arrived, she greeted them with a warm smile. Her gaze lingered on the twins, softening. “My parents are going to spoil you two rotten,” she said, laughing as the girls giggled and beamed.

The drive to Claire’s parents’ house took nearly an hour, the scenery shifting as they left the borders of Keaton’s pack’s territory. Channary’s grip on her purse tightened with each passing mile. Her wolf was alert, on edge, sensing the shift in energy as they moved closer to a territory that felt unfamiliar yet oddly powerful.

Finally, the car turned onto a long, winding driveway that led to a sprawling estate. The house was grand but warm, nestled in a picturesque clearing surrounded by towering trees. Claire parked the car and turned to Channary, her tone light but sincere.

“My parents love having guests,” she said. “They’re retired alphas, so don’t be intimidated. They’re more excited to meet the twins than anything.”

Channary nodded, masking the wave of unease that threatened to surface. Retired alphas. That explained the commanding presence she could feel even from outside the house. She silently prayed that she wouldn’t run into her own parents here.

As they stepped out of the car, the twins squealed with excitement, bounding ahead toward the front door. Channary followed more slowly, her wolf pacing anxiously within her. Whatever lay ahead, she had to stay calm—for herself and for her daughters.

Claire didn’t waste any time knocking. She simply opened the grand oak door and ushered the three ladies inside. The twins, Elara and Sienna, gasped audibly, their little faces lighting up as they took in the beautiful home. Warm, golden light filled the space, bouncing off intricately carved wooden furniture and walls adorned with family photos and battle memorabilia. It felt lived-in, full of history and love—something Channary’s childhood home had sorely lacked.

Channary trailed behind her daughters, her heart constricting as she compared this house to the cold, unyielding mansion of her own upbringing. “Don’t touch anything, girls,” she warned, her voice soft but firm, the protective mother in her always on alert.

Claire smiled as she led them toward the sitting room. “I think my parents are in the kitchen. I’ll fetch them.”

“Thank you,” Channary replied politely, her nerves fraying as she glanced around. Why did this feel so significant? It wasn’t just the house. There was a strange energy in the air, a sense of importance she couldn’t quite explain.

Elara tugged on her hand. “Mama, look!” The little girl pointed to a grand painting above the fireplace, depicting two women standing together in a forest clearing.

Channary’s breath caught. One woman had striking silver hair that shimmered in the moonlight, her gaze piercing yet serene. The other had golden-blonde hair that fell in soft waves, her expression bright and full of life. They looked like they were in their late twenties, their bond evident in the way they stood close, their hands resting lightly on each other’s shoulders.

“She’s got silver hair like us!” Elara whispered, her finger hovering near the silver-haired woman.

Channary’s heart skipped a beat. The resemblance was there—the twins’ silver locks, their moonlit eyes—it was like seeing an echo of her own daughters in the painted figure. Even the twins seemed to sense it, leaning closer and whispering to each other in amazement.

Before Channary could comment, Claire returned, her parents in tow. Claire’s father was tall and broad-shouldered, with streaks of gray in his hair and a warm but reserved demeanor. Her mother, a graceful woman with golden-blonde hair that matched the woman in the painting, carried a plate of cookies in her hands.

The moment her mother’s gaze landed on the twins, the plate slipped from her hands, shattering against the hardwood floor.

“Mom!” Claire exclaimed, rushing forward.

Channary instinctively pulled her daughters close, alarmed by the sudden outburst. The twins clung to her, their little faces buried against her sides, as Claire’s mother began to cry.

“I’m so sorry,” the older woman whispered, trembling. She wiped at her eyes but couldn’t seem to stop the tears. “I—please forgive me. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Channary’s protective instincts flared. “They didn’t do anything wrong,” she said firmly, her tone edged with defensiveness.

“No, no, of course not,” Claire’s mother replied, her voice breaking. “It’s just... they look so much like her.”

“Like who?” Channary asked, her brow furrowing.

Claire’s mother hesitated, her gaze flitting between Channary and the twins. Then she turned toward the painting above the fireplace. “My sister, Elena. She was moon-kissed, like your daughters.”

The room fell silent, save for the crackling of the fire.

“She was my twin,” the older woman continued, her voice heavy with emotion. “We shared everything—our childhood, our bond as twins. But she’s been gone for years. Seeing your girls is like seeing her again. It’s... uncanny.”

Channary’s mind raced. She had heard stories of moon-kissed wolves who were deeply connected to their families, but to think her daughters bore such a resemblance to a woman they’d never met—

“Did you know her?” Claire’s mother asked suddenly, stepping closer. “Elena?”

Channary shook her head. “No. I’ve never heard the name before tonight.”

Claire’s father spoke up, his voice deep and calm. “Elena’s connection to the Moon was strong. She always said the Moon would guide her spirit back to us someday, even if it took generations. Perhaps this is what she meant.”

Channary tightened her grip on her daughters, unsure how to respond. This family’s grief and hope were palpable, and she wasn’t sure how to navigate it.

Elara and Sienna peeked up at the adults, their wide, curious eyes darting between the painting and Claire’s parents. “Mama, are we like her?” Sienna asked softly.

Channary knelt down to their level, brushing a hand over Sienna’s hair. “You’re just like yourselves,” she said gently. “But maybe there’s a little bit of her in you too.”

Claire’s mother smiled through her tears. “You’ve raised remarkable girls. Thank you for bringing them here tonight. It means more than you can imagine.”