LOGINSophia
Checking my reflection in my small mirror, I tuck a few strands of hair behind my ear, which have escaped from my braid. Running my hand over my white dress, I try to smoothen it as much as I can. Honoring the Moon Goddess, all the she-wolves wear white, especially the unmated she-wolves.
This is the only nice dress that I own that I have been wearing for the past few years on the Red Moon. But since tonight is Full Moon Ball, I decided to wear it even though it is not Red Moon because I want to look a bit presentable in front of others.
Wiping my face with the small hand towel, I once again check my reflection before I head out towards the training ground to help others prepare the ground for the Full Moon shift.
All the unmated wolves will try to find their mates during the ball. And later, when midnight strikes, everyone would come outside and shift into their wolves and go for the run. Newly mated wolves will celebrate their unions while the other will run alongside their family and friends.
I join a group of pack members setting up tables and chairs for the post-ball feast. Almost everyone leaves as soon as I join the table, and moves to work on the other table. I can hear their taunts directed towards me and the sound of their laughs that they are having at my expanse.
But not paying attention to their words, I keep my focus on the work at hand; the sooner I finish here, the sooner I can get back into the safety of my room.
I am not allowed to attend the Full Moon ball as per my father's order because he is embarrassed to be associated with me. Joke on him, his blood runs through my veins, even if he want he can never turn his face from this truth.
Just as I finish setting up one of the last tables, I feel a rough shove from behind. I stumble but manage to catch myself before falling.
"Watch where you're going, bitch," a voice sneers.
I turn to see Kane, one of the warriors, glaring at me with a smirk on his face. His smirk identical to Cynthia's a strong giveaway he is her nephew.
Not only look, but it seems like they even share the same mean streak. Maybe it is their blood.
"Sorry, Kane," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "I didn't see you there."
"Yeah, well, maybe you should pay more attention," he snaps, stepping closer. "Or maybe you are seeking opportunities to get closer to me." His eyes move up and down my body, causing a shiver to run down my spine in disgust.
I feel a surge of anger but force myself to stay calm.
"I am not interested in you." Keeping my face neutral, I look at him, "In fact, if anything, you disgust me."
His smirk falters, replaced by a flash of anger.
You should watch your mouth, Sophia," he snarls, grabbing my throat. "You don't get to talk to me like that."
He closes his fingers around my throat, blocking my airways. Everyone stops doing whatever they are doing and looks in our direction.
It is becoming difficult for me to breathe, and I try to free myself by clawing his hands away from my neck.
"Let go of me, Kane." My voice comes out choked as my vision becomes blurry due to lack of oxygen.
Suddenly, a large gray wolf comes out of nowhere and attacks Kane. I hear screams of horror coming from some she-wolves, along with Cynthia's screams.
My vision turns hazy as I feel myself losing control of my body. I begin to fall down as my eyes shut.
Even before I could fall down, a strong pair of arms wrapped around me while holding me close.
A strange comfort washes over me while my nose registers the most amazing and intoxicating smell I have ever smelled.
I am trying to fight against the darkness and forcing my eyes to open, but I am failing miserably.
LucasAurora walks toward us before I can get my thoughts in order. I notice the way her steps shorten when she is serious, like she is conserving something. She stops in front of Ryan, tilting her head just slightly, eyes sharp but not accusing.“Your mother?” she asks. “But why?”Ryan swallows. I watch his throat work, the way his shoulders lift a fraction and then drop. This is not easy for him. Whatever he is about to say was never meant to leave his mouth.“I can’t tell you much,” he says. His voice comes out low, rough around the edges. “I don’t think I’d even know how to explain it.” He chews on his bottom lip, teeth catching skin, a nervous habit he probably hates about himself. “But I can take you to her.”Every instinct in me rises up at once. I open my mouth, already forming a refusal, already planning a dozen ways this could go wrong.I snap my head toward her. She is calm. Too calm. Not reckless, not naïve. Just certain. That is what gets me.Caleb stiffens beside me. I c
LucasCaleb rubs the back of his neck like he is smoothing out a bad idea, which is funny because he never regrets his bad ideas. His mouth is already tilted into that familiar smirk, the one that says he enjoyed every second of it. There is sweat drying at his temples, leaving faint salt lines that catch the light. He always looks like this after a fight. Too pleased. Too loose.“Did I hit you bad?” he asks.I snort. “You hit like a pup.”He laughs under his breath, shoulders relaxed, like we just finished sparring for fun and not because everything lately feels one step away from falling apart. “How about the elbow you caught in your face?”“Perfect placement,” I say. “I hope you enjoyed it.”“Barely felt it.” He shrugs, like we are talking about weather. Then his eyes shift, not to me, but past me. To her.Aurora is stretched out on the blanket a few feet away, one knee bent, hair lifting and falling against her cheek whenever the wind decides to toy with her. She is reading on her
AuroraI have been at this for hours.I know because the light has changed. It starts soft, gentle, brushing my skin like it is only passing through. Now it presses down, heavy and bright, sitting on my shoulders like it plans to stay. The morning slips into afternoon without asking me, and the sun turns sharp, almost rude.Sweat slides down my spine, collecting between my shoulder blades before trailing lower. My shirt clings in places I hate. My hair sticks to the back of my neck, and every time I move, I feel overheated and clumsy. I swipe my forearm across my forehead and immediately regret it because now my arm is damp too.I glance at Lucas and Caleb without meaning to.They look unfair.Both of them are sweaty, shirts darkened at the collar and chest, hair slightly messy. And somehow it works. Lucas stands with his sleeves pushed up, forearms flexed as he talks to Caleb in a low voice. Caleb is leaning against a tree, one knee bent, posture loose like this is just another after
AuroraLucas is sitting close enough that our knees touch when he shifts. Caleb is across from us, relaxed, joking, eating like this is just another morning. If I only look at the surface, it feels normal. Easy.But I know better than to only look at the surface.Lucas lifts his cup, takes a sip, then sets it down slightly closer to the edge of the blanket than before. Caleb’s eyes flick to it for a second. He does not comment. He adjusts the way he is sitting, one leg stretching out, the other bending. Lucas’s jaw tightens, just a little, then smooths out again.No words. Still, something passes.I keep chewing, slower now, letting my gaze move casually between them. Lucas nods once, barely there. Caleb’s mouth curves into a lazy grin that does not quite reach his eyes. I have seen that look before. It is the one he wears when he is thinking harder than he lets on.Mindlink.They call it that.I cannot hear it, but I can feel when it happens. It is like watching two people finish eac
AuroraThe sight becomes familiar the moment the car slows.I recognize the open stretch before my mind fully catches up. The last time I was here, everything shifted. I learned that my father loves me in the quiet, clumsy way men like him do. I learned the truth about my mother, not the polished version but the real one, the one with edges and ache and choices that mattered. I learned how she lived, and how she died, and how both of those things still echo through him.And now I am here again.Or more accurately, Lucas brings me here.The car rolls to a stop in the middle of the field, and even before the engine goes silent, I feel the difference. This place does not press in on you. It does not watch. It does not demand posture or silence or obedience. It exists without expectation. It is still part of the estate, still wrapped in history and ownership, but it breathes in a way the mansion never does.Lucas cuts the engine and turns toward me.“I just wanted to take you away from th
AuroraLucas is different since the intruder incident. Not in a loud way. Not in a way anyone else would catch. But I catch it because I know him now. Because I have learned his silences as carefully as his words.He is more alert. More watchful.When we are together, he never lets it spill onto me. He smiles the same. Talks the same. Touches me the same. But his eyes move constantly, tracking reflections, shadows, people who linger a second too long. His body always positions itself just slightly between me and whatever space we enter. He thinks I do not notice.I notice everything.Honestly, the intruder did not shake me the way it probably should have. That surprises people when I admit it, so I usually do not. But danger has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. Being Arthur Blake’s daughter means growing up with locked doors, quiet conversations, plans that change without explanation. There were failed attempts. Threats that never made the news. A few deaths no one







