Aiden's Point of View I step onto the main floor just in time to see Drake disappearing into his office. I pick up my pace, knocking lightly before I push the door open. He looks up and gestures to the chair across from him without a word, that same calm, steady energy he always carries. I take the seat and try to relax into it, but I can already feel the tension tightening in my shoulders. Drake studies me for a moment, like he’s searching for something in my expression. Maybe he sees the exhaustion, or maybe he’s just waiting to see which version of me walks in today. “You look better today,” he says finally. “How are you feeling?” I shrug, keeping my tone neutral. “I’m feeling more and more like myself each day. Maybe I was just out on the road too long. Got used to silence and gravel.” It’s not a lie. Those moments lately, sharing meals with the pack, hearing laughter again, they spark something familiar in me. A piece of the old me. But when the nights come and the silence c
Hazel's Point of View Steam still clings to my skin as I step out of the shower, wrapping one towel around my body and another around my hair. The quiet hum of the bathroom fan fades behind me as I walk barefoot into my bedroom, the soft cotton underfoot a comforting contrast to the cool air. I stand in front of my open closet, towel clutched tight as I scan the neatly hung rows of clothes. Valerie’s birthday get together is tonight, she said “small,” but also said to “dress nice.” I frown slightly. Vague instructions. Typical Valerie. My fingers trail along the hangers until they pause on a flowy forest green halterneck dress. It catches the light softly and gives off just the right balance of effortless and elegant. Perfect. I slip the dress off the hanger and lay it carefully across the bed. Then I bend down, digging out a pair of gold strappy sandals, the delicate kind that shimmer just enough to be noticed but won’t scream for attention. I place them beside the dress, admirin
Aiden's Point of View Time blurs in Amelia’s hospital room. I lean back in the chair, one leg crossed over the other, arms folded, watching the steady rhythm of the heart monitor and the way Amelia’s breaths come in slow, controlled waves. I’ve completely lost track of how long we’ve been here, hours, maybe more, but the soft ticking of the wall clock and the dimmed lights do little to keep me grounded in time. Then suddenly, Amelia jolts upright with a gasp, one hand gripping the side rail of the bed, the other pressing to her belly. Her eyes go wide. “I think it’s happening,” she says, her voice tight but steady. Nicole is on her feet in an instant, her demeanor shifting smoothly from calm support to professional precision. She moves to check Amelia’s vitals and does a quick assessment before smiling, her face lighting up. “You’re right,” she says. “It’s showtime.” My eyes flick to Amelia, there’s a spark of excitement and a hint of nervousness behind her eyes, but she’s stron
Hazel's Point of ViewThe afternoon sun casts a golden glow through the trees and over the ancient altar as I stand before it, ready to prove my coven wrong. My fingers brush over the smooth surface of the ritual stone, my heart pounding with anticipation. I silently run through the spell again, ensuring every word, every motion is precise. This is my moment.Then, chaos erupts.A blur of movement catches my eye as two massive wolves burst into the clearing, their snarls tearing through the silence. My breath hitches as my gaze locks onto the dark brown wolf. There’s something about him, something I can’t explain. But I don’t have time to dwell on the strange pull I feel towards him. More wolves emerge from the shadows, launching themselves into battle, teeth bared, claws slashing.I hesitate, my mind racing. I always believed all werewolves wanted the curse broken, yet here they are, fighting to stop me. Why?Before I can make sense of it, the brown wolf is suddenly in front of me, h
Hazel's Point of ViewI don't know how long I've been here, buried in ancient texts, my fingers stained with dust and ink. Time has lost all meaning in the flickering candlelight, my world reduced to the fragile pages before me. My back aches from hours hunched over these books, and my eyes burn with exhaustion, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop.And then, I find it.Not in a grimoire, not hidden within the pages of some elaborate tome, but on a single loose sheet, wedged between a stack of forgotten spells. The parchment is brittle, its edges frayed as if handled in a hurry, like whoever last held it knew its worth but had no time to use it.I lift it carefully, my pulse thrumming as I scan the inked symbols and lines of ancient script. My breath catches.The handwriting, it’s the same as the first spell. The curves of the letters, the way certain symbols are drawn, the unmistakable rhythm of the incantation, it all matches. And then, I see it.It mentions the stone.Excitement surges t
Aiden's Point of ViewAnother dead end.I stand in the mouth of the cave, the dim light from outside barely reaching the smooth, empty walls. No scent, no markings, no trace of Hazel. Just silence and dust.Frustration coils tight in my chest as I take another slow step inside, scanning the empty space, searching for something, anything, that might tell me she was here. But there’s nothing. Just cold stone and wasted time.I exhale sharply through my nose, my jaw clenching as I turn on my heel.Damn it.I kick a loose rock, watching it skitter across the ground before clattering against the far wall. The sound echoes in the hollow space, mocking me. I’ve searched countless places, followed every lead, but she keeps slipping through my fingers. Three months of chasing shadows, of tracking a ghost who doesn’t want to be found.I rake a hand through my hair as I step back into the light, the fresh afternoon air a stark contrast to the stale nothingness of the cave. My truck is parked ju
Hazel's Point of View "Mate." The word hangs heavy in the air between us, thick with meaning, thick with something I cannot acknowledge. My breath catches in my throat as I instinctively raise my hands in surrender, palms up, a silent plea for him to stay back. I take a careful step backwards, my heart pounding in my chest. The man who just burst into my home is not just any werewolf, he is him. The dark brown wolf from the clearing. The one who tried to stop me. The one who's pack has been haunting me for months now. "Please don’t hurt me," I say, my voice softer than I intend, laced with exhaustion. "I promise it’s not as it seems. I never wanted any of this." His eyes darken, piercing green flickering with something unreadable as he steps towards me. My body tenses. He is huge, his presence overwhelming in my small cottage. He moves like a predator, each step controlled, deliberate. "Then explain it to me," he demands, his voice low and firm. "Why were you willing to break th
Aiden's Point of View The road stretches endlessly before me, the dark asphalt illuminated only by my headlights as I push the truck faster. The hum of the engine fills the silence, but it does nothing to drown out the thoughts swirling in my head. I replay the scene over and over, every word, every look Hazel gave me. She just wanted me to reject her. No hesitation, no second thoughts. Like our bond, the one thing I’ve spent my entire life waiting for, meant absolutely nothing to her. I clench my jaw, my grip tightening around the steering wheel. My wolf stirs uneasily inside me, unsettled by the rejection, by the emptiness it left behind. The bond is severed now, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. It feels like something raw and jagged is tearing through my chest. She spoke about the supernatural world like it was a burden, something she wanted no part of. Like I was something she wanted no part of. I exhale sharply, shaking my head as if that’ll somehow force the thoughts
Aiden's Point of View Time blurs in Amelia’s hospital room. I lean back in the chair, one leg crossed over the other, arms folded, watching the steady rhythm of the heart monitor and the way Amelia’s breaths come in slow, controlled waves. I’ve completely lost track of how long we’ve been here, hours, maybe more, but the soft ticking of the wall clock and the dimmed lights do little to keep me grounded in time. Then suddenly, Amelia jolts upright with a gasp, one hand gripping the side rail of the bed, the other pressing to her belly. Her eyes go wide. “I think it’s happening,” she says, her voice tight but steady. Nicole is on her feet in an instant, her demeanor shifting smoothly from calm support to professional precision. She moves to check Amelia’s vitals and does a quick assessment before smiling, her face lighting up. “You’re right,” she says. “It’s showtime.” My eyes flick to Amelia, there’s a spark of excitement and a hint of nervousness behind her eyes, but she’s stron
Hazel's Point of View Steam still clings to my skin as I step out of the shower, wrapping one towel around my body and another around my hair. The quiet hum of the bathroom fan fades behind me as I walk barefoot into my bedroom, the soft cotton underfoot a comforting contrast to the cool air. I stand in front of my open closet, towel clutched tight as I scan the neatly hung rows of clothes. Valerie’s birthday get together is tonight, she said “small,” but also said to “dress nice.” I frown slightly. Vague instructions. Typical Valerie. My fingers trail along the hangers until they pause on a flowy forest green halterneck dress. It catches the light softly and gives off just the right balance of effortless and elegant. Perfect. I slip the dress off the hanger and lay it carefully across the bed. Then I bend down, digging out a pair of gold strappy sandals, the delicate kind that shimmer just enough to be noticed but won’t scream for attention. I place them beside the dress, admirin
Aiden's Point of View I step onto the main floor just in time to see Drake disappearing into his office. I pick up my pace, knocking lightly before I push the door open. He looks up and gestures to the chair across from him without a word, that same calm, steady energy he always carries. I take the seat and try to relax into it, but I can already feel the tension tightening in my shoulders. Drake studies me for a moment, like he’s searching for something in my expression. Maybe he sees the exhaustion, or maybe he’s just waiting to see which version of me walks in today. “You look better today,” he says finally. “How are you feeling?” I shrug, keeping my tone neutral. “I’m feeling more and more like myself each day. Maybe I was just out on the road too long. Got used to silence and gravel.” It’s not a lie. Those moments lately, sharing meals with the pack, hearing laughter again, they spark something familiar in me. A piece of the old me. But when the nights come and the silence c
Aiden's Point of View I blink against the faint grey of early dawn, my neck stiff and my back sore as I shift upright on the office couch. It takes a second before the full weight of where I am, and what happened, hits me like a punch to the gut. This isn’t my bed. This is my office. And I’m not alone. Or at least, I wasn’t. The couch is cold now, empty, but the memories flood in fast and sharp, the omega girl, soft spoken, wide eyed, and nameless. I don’t even know her damn name. I groan, dragging a hand down my face, the sting of regret settling deep in my chest. This was never supposed to happen, not here, not with one of my own pack. I always told myself I’d never cross that line. I curse under my breath. Everything inside me wants to bury the shame, to run until my thoughts burn out and the guilt dulls to something manageable. I push off the couch, standing with a low exhale, and glance towards the windows. It’s still dark. Perfect. Maybe if I leave now, slip into the woods
Hazel's Point of View I take the last bite of my muffin, chasing the lingering sweetness with the final sip of my cappuccino. The warm drink settles in my stomach like a comfort blanket, and I let out a quiet, content sigh before standing from my desk. A quick trip to the bathroom is in order, just to make sure I don’t walk into class with a smudge of chocolate somewhere on my face. That would be an incredibly "relatable professor" moment, but not exactly the impression I’m aiming for today. The hallway is quiet as I walk, the sound of my shoes echoing softly on the tile. Inside the bathroom, the fluorescent lights buzz faintly overhead as I step up to the mirror. I lean in, studying my reflection with a sharp eye. No chocolate smears, thank the Goddess. My concealer is still doing its job, hiding the circles under my eyes from last night’s desk nap, and my blouse still looks crisp. I wash my hands, letting the cool water rinse away the last of the muffin’s crumbs and sleepiness. I
Hazel's Point of View Ugh… my back aches like I’ve been hit by a truck. I groan softly as I start to stir, feeling the telltale stiffness in my neck and shoulders. Lifting my head, it takes me a moment to realize where I am, slumped over my desk, surrounded by open grimoires and scattered notes. Perfect. Just perfect. Fell asleep mid research like some over caffeinated student, only I don’t even have the excuse of youth on my side anymore. I rub at my neck with a wince, blinking at the soft morning light filtering in through the window. My second lecture’s today, and here I am looking, and probably smelling, like a zombie. Great impression to make. Just what I needed. I glance at the grimoires and quickly flip a few pages to check. No drool, thank the stars. At least there's that. My eyes catch the wine glass still sitting beside the stack of books, a few sips of red still lingering in the bottom like a quiet reminder of last night’s desperation. I pick it up along with the empty
Aiden's Point of View As I make my way towards the dining hall, the rich scent of roasted meat, herbs, and fresh bread hits me square in the gut, and my stomach growls loudly in response. I can’t even remember the last time I ate, everything after the fight with Brock is a blur of adrenaline, guilt, and exhaustion. It’s a strange relief to feel hunger again, like my body’s finally coming back online. When I step into the dining hall, I immediately notice the private table Abby has set off to the side. It’s decked out, more like a celebration than a casual lunch. The table’s dressed in soft white linen with a centerpiece of spring flowers, and a spread of food already set up buffet style nearby. Roasted chicken, buttery vegetables, fresh salads, and a tray of desserts sit neatly in their dishes. My curiosity spikes. I head straight for Abby, giving her a skeptical smirk. “Wow, you really went all out. So what’s the big news?” She beams up at me, clearly thrilled. “You’ll just ha
Aiden's Point of View The first thing I register as I start to stir is the unfamiliar ceiling above me. A dull ache settles behind my eyes, the remnants of last night’s drinks, and for a second, I don’t remember where I am. Then I feel movement beside me. I turn my head and see her, the redhead from the bar, curled up beside me, her breathing soft and steady, her arm draped lazily over my chest. That’s when it all floods back in. The drinks, the flirting, the apartment. The distraction. Quietly, carefully, I ease her arm off me and sit up on the edge of the bed. The air is cool against my skin, and I keep still for a moment, staring at the floor like it might offer me a reason for last night, like it might help the guilt already starting to crawl its way in. I gather my clothes in silence, not bothering to look back at her. No need. This wasn’t meant to be anything more than what it was. I slip into my jeans, pull on my shirt, and make my way out of the bedroom, closing the door
Hazel's Point of View I stand at the front of the lecture hall, fingers wrapped lightly around the edge of the desk as students shuffle into their seats, the buzz of low chatter filling the space like a soft hum. My heart hammers in my chest, not from fear, but from a wild mix of nerves and excitement. The kind that coils in your belly and keeps you standing just a little taller. Sunlight spills in through the tall windows to my left, casting golden slashes across the rows of seats, and I take a breath that fills my lungs with the scent of coffee, paper, and a faint trace of chalk dust. My notes are arranged neatly on the desk, lesson plan, student list, a few references, everything perfectly in place, even if I don’t quite feel the same. The last of the students settle in, and the noise fades into an expectant silence. Dozens of eyes look up at me, some curious, some bored, a few skeptical, and for a split second, I question everything. What am I doing here? But then I remember,