LOGINThank you so much for reading this story!
Lucas My wolf starts pacing again. He does it in a tight circle, claws scraping inside me like he is trying to get free. He does not usually get this worked up unless it is about her. Aurora. He feels her in a way I cannot. Sometimes I hate how easily he tunes into her. He reacts to her emotions before I even register the faintest shift in the air. It is one of the reasons I find myself wishing the bond was complete. Maybe then I would not feel like I am always a few steps behind him when it comes to her. A low pulse forms behind my ribs. Not pain. Something sharper. Something that feels like my body is trying to warn me of something I cannot see yet. Alexei gets a mindlink from the border, and he informs that a girl is approaching our territory. He says girl, but my chest answers before my brain does. It is her. I feel it as clearly as I feel the next breath I take. My entire body reacts to it. There is a shift in the air around me. The chaos in my head draws back, just a little.
AuroraI can hear Ryan breathing behind me. Or trying to. Each breath comes out rough and thin, like something is scraping inside his chest. The sound is harsh in the quiet of the car, and it mixes with the wet rush of blood leaving his body. It hits my ears in broken waves. I try to ignore it because if I let myself focus on it, even for a second, I will not be able to complete the task at hand, that is, to take Ryan to Lucas's house.My grip tightens on the wheel. My fingers press into the leather until they hurt. I block out everything else. The engine. The wind against the glass. The distant blur of trees. I focus only on the soft tap of my index finger hitting the wheel again and again.That tiny rhythm keeps me from losing focus.The road curves and I press the gas harder. The tires push against the dirt. I feel every bump under the car and I force myself not to look in the rearview mirror. Not yet. I keep my eyes locked straight ahead, even though the part of me that cares too
AuroraI hop onto the bonnet of the car, the metal warm under my palms. The sun hits my face, so I lift an arm and let my hand block the light. Ryan stands a few feet away, looking like he belongs in this wild stretch of green even though he was raised in concrete and iron hallways."So, tell me about yourself." My voice sounds casual. "Is James a good father?"His smile appears instantly. Effortless. It lights up his whole face, softening the angles that usually make him look older than he is."The best," he says.The certainty in his tone hits me in a place I do not like to pay attention to. A small pang of jealousy nudges inside my chest, sharp and quick, because it says everything about his relationship with his father."A little strict," he adds. Then rolls his eyes at himself. "Okay. Not little. More than little strict. But still the best."He runs his hand through his hair, messing it up in a way that makes him look younger, almost boyish. Like the version of him that existed b
AuroraThe moment we cross the gate, something in my chest loosens. Not completely, but still not feeling being suppressed.Ryan flicks a glance at me. Quick. Observant. Like he is checking to see if I am still holding myself together. He does not say anything, though. He keeps his eyes on the road, one hand lightly tapping the wheel in a pattern I cannot place. Maybe a habit. Maybe nerves. Maybe nothing at all.Soon we are on the main road that curves toward town. I recognize the line of old brick buildings in the distance, the faint glow of streetlights that always turn on earlier than necessary, or sometimes I wonder if they even turn them off at all, because the sun is high in the sky and there is no need for it. I expect him to keep going straight.He doesn’t.Ryan takes a turn without announcing it, the car rolling into a quieter side road instead of following the path toward the shops and people and noise. Trees hang low over the edges, their leaves brushing my window as we pas
Aurora The next morning, when I open my door, Ryan is already there. He stands like he has been carved into that exact spot, but then something unexpected happens. He nods his head in greeting, and a small, polite smile lifts his mouth. It is quick, almost shy, but real enough to catch me off guard. People here do not smile. Especially the guards. They move like programmed bodies, trained to look through you rather than at you. They speak only if spoken to, and even then, their voices sound like someone erased emotion from their throats. But Ryan. He is different. So to test my theory, I smile back. I keep it soft so it does not look like I am challenging him, just acknowledging him as a person. "Good morning, Ryan." "Good morning, Miss Blake." His tone stays formal, yet there is a hint of genuine warmth in it. Let's see how long it takes for this warmth to vanish from his tone after he is working here. He positions himself half a step behind me as I walk toward the dining hall
AuroraI always find solutions to problems. It is one of those things people say about me whenever they want to sound impressed. Like it is stitched into my DNA, something I inherited along with my eye color or the shape of my cheekbones. But this time I look at my hands resting uselessly on my lap and I do not even know how or where to start.The problem is simple. That is what makes it worse. I am trapped in my own room. Not with chains. Not with bars. Just rules that feel heavier than any lock. I am allowed to leave only for meals, which is beginning to make the hallway feel like a reward instead of a place I grew up walking through barefoot, leaving tiny sock prints behind on the marble.I sit up on the mattress and stare at the door. It is closed in the most normal way possible. Pine wood with a soft shine. The knob holds a faint coldness in winter that used to shock me awake during school mornings.Nothing about it looks threatening. Yet right now it feels like a reminder like I







