The glow of the ancient door receded into the darkness, and the power left it was like a protective shield over those gathered in the clearing. The door swung all the way open and a voice thundered through the silence. "Hannah!" Maxine's voice stabbed with worry; her silhouette on the dim light of the doorway. Hannah spun, and tears streamed down her face as she saw her mother step into the clearing, flanked by Alpha Alph and several members of the Hampton pack. Their presence intimidated her: strength pulsed out in waves. "Mom!" Hannah called out, her voice breaking as she stumbled toward Maxine. The smirk vanished off Ronald's face the moment he laid eyes on them. He slid back one step and his boldness crumbled at the sight of a pack. His eyes darted between Maxine and Alph, the ferocious leaders who made even the sturdiest foes bend over their knees. "Dammit," he cursed under his breath. With no hesitation, he ordered to the few wolves left, "Retreat! The wolves scattered
(Maxine’s POV) The crimson moon hung heavy in the night sky, its unsettling glow seeping through the dense canopy like blood from an open wound. Every step I took felt heavier than the last, the weight of the night pressing down on my chest. The pack moved silently around me, their shoulders slumped in exhaustion and grief, but my focus remained fixed on the boy they carried. Hadzen. My son. I forced myself to keep my head high, but the sight of his pale face—that lifeless, bloodied thing—gnawed at me like a wild animal. If I let myself look too long, the threads of my composure, so carefully woven, would utterly unravel. Instead, I clenched Hannah’s hand more tightly, my knuckles white, as if only by holding onto it could I shield her from all this. She stayed close—too close—her small frame trembling beside me. Every few steps, I could feel her gaze darting toward Hadzen, but I couldn’t bring myself to comfort her—not when I was barely holding myself together. “Mom,” her
The forest whispered as the Hampton pack moved cautiously through the moonlit trees, carrying the bloodied, unconscious woman with them. Her pale form seemed almost ethereal against the deep shadows, her presence unnerving even to the wolves who had seen their share of battle. Alpha Alph walked at the front, his senses sharp, scanning for signs of lingering threats. Ronald and his forces had retreated, but something about the entire situation gnawed at him. Too easy. Too quiet. Maxine followed closely behind, holding Hannah’s hand tightly. The little girl hadn’t said much since they’d left the clearing, her small face pale as she stared at the strange woman. Maxine tried to block out the woman’s faint whispers still echoing in her mind: You forgot me… What does that mean? “Alpha,” one of the scouts called softly, dropping back to join Alph. “The estate is just ahead. No sign of further pursuit.” Alph gave a sharp nod. “Good. Double the perimeter once we arrive.” Maxine’s at
The night air raked over her skin as Ericka staggered further into the woods, her breathing harsh and jerky. The crimson moon still hung heavy in the sky, casting an unnatural light over the forest as if following her like an indictment. Branches whipped at her arms, scratching pale skin, but she felt none of it. It was nothing compared to the commotion inside her chest. How couldn't they? The word echoed inside her mind, throbbing as a flame she wasn't allowed to dampen. Her mom—Maxine—saw her like she looked at any other person: a foreign entity. And Hannah… this girl. That fake. Ericka clenched her jaw. She's walked one tottering step in front of another. She did not belong there. None of them belonged. The moment she saw Maxine her mom wanted a hug from her to ask her if she is okay but she didn't because she was with the fake Hannah. That makes her mad. Ericka pressed her palm against a tree trunk, steadying herself. Her thin white dress clung to her body, torn at the hem
The room was filled with the oppressive silence. Ericka sat on the edge of the bed in the cramped guest chamber they'd locked her away in. The massive wooden door had slammed shut after her, though she hadn't heard a key turn. They didn't trust her yet. Maybe they were weighing and measuring what to do with her, or what she was. She clamped her fists down against her knees and tried to shut up the thoughts. Outside, she could hear faint voices—conversations muffled through walls, the pack deciding her fate like she was some beast brought in from the woods. Hannah's fate. No, her fate. "They'll see," she whispered to herself, her voice shaking with a mix of fury and exhaustion. "They'll know." The room was dimly lit by a single lantern on a side table. The window across from her was small, its panes fogged and smudged, offering only a murky view of the courtyard below. She could make out vague figures moving around—shadows on patrol, ensuring she didn't escape again. A knock jol
Ericka pounded her fists on the heavy wooden door of her temporary prison. The impact resonated into nothingness. It wasn't enough. Nothing was enough to subdue the rage boiling under her skin. "How dare she?" Ericka hissed into the room, her breath ragged as she paced. Her voice, though quiet, bore a venom that would tear through the stone. "How dare she stand in my place, smile in my name, and let them believe she's me?" Her nails dug into her palms as she recalled Hannah's face—her face, contorted in innocence and trust that was far from real. Ericka had seen the glances the others threw her way, the skepticism in their eyes. It was maddening. Why couldn't they see it? She kicked the edge of the small wooden bed in frustration, the sharp pain jolting her out of her spiral for only a moment. Hours later, the chance she’d been waiting for arrived. Clara, young and mousy, slipped into the room again to bring her meal. Ericka stared at the girl, unblinking, as she set the tr
The silence in the Alpha's hall lingered long after the meeting had ended. Hannah walked briskly down the stone corridors, her hands trembling at her sides though she forced herself to look composed. She could feel the whispers still following her like shadows, no matter how fast she moved. The accusations. The doubt. The lingering what-ifs. Reaching her quarters, Hannah shut the door behind her and leaned heavily against it, closing her eyes. For a moment, she allowed the weight of it all to sink in—how the pack she'd fought to protect was now questioning her very identity. Because of her. Ericka. Her hand hovered over the small communication stone on the table. She hesitated before finally picking it up and whispering, "Mom." The faint hum of the stone signaled her connection, and after a heartbeat, her mother’s gentle voice filled the quiet. “Hannah, sweetheart? Is everything all right?” The kind tone nearly undid her. Hannah swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice st
The morning sun filtered weakly through the heavy clouds, casting a dull glow over Hampton. The events of the previous day weighed heavily on everyone, leaving a palpable tension that clung to the air like mist. Most people still called her Hannah, and Hannah stood on the balcony outside her room. The biting wind chilled her skin, but she welcomed the chill, something to ground her. She wrapped her arms around herself as memories rose again: that fateful night when her life changed forever, when Ericka, the real Hannah, had marked her. Her pale skin was a constant reminder, her new reality written on her body. Behind her, the door creaked open, and a familiar presence broke through her isolation. It was Hadzen. “Standing out here won’t help,” Hadzen said quietly, approaching her with steady steps. His voice, though calm, carried concern. “You’ll catch a cold.” Hannah didn’t turn to face him. “A cold is the least of my worries.” Hadzen let out a deep sigh, halting beside her
She closed her eyes tight, felt the stab running through her chest by his claws and the warm spreading blood from her across to his ground below. In reality, Winter's line was blurring, though gritted she would let Leo go nowhere. Hadzen's heart stopped. He saw the whole scene. His mind screamed at him to get up and stop Leo. He could not do that, however. He was stuck in his place by the view of Winter's blood seeping from his body to the floor. In him, anger began to well but panic superseded it. "No!" Winter's faint voice barely reached his ears as he snapped out of his paralysis. She coughed, the breath shallow. "Hadzen… get out of here… run…" Hadzen's legs began moving at a force that he couldn't control. He moved forward with a mind screaming desperately, "Winter!" Leo looked up, his cold stare meeting Hadzen's. For a moment, they locked gazes, a silent challenge between them. But Leo didn't back down. His hand remained deep in Winter's chest, drawing out the power of the
The blood moon deepened, casting an eerie glow across the window of Winter. It bathed her room in crimson light. Hadzen stood by the window, his sharp gaze fixed to the sky, his golden eyes reflecting the ominous red hue that the moon was assuming. Something was wrong. This air felt heavy, charged with unease, and his instincts screamed of danger. It felt unnatural to see how the light spread across the land, like a warning he alone could hear. He had felt this sort of dread before—a feeling of knowing tragedy was about to hit. His jaw clenched up as his fists closed up by his sides. He told himself, This isn't right. This is a sign. He could not resist it; the pull was too great, and he needed to return to the only place that held all the answers-the heart of Hampton. Now, he realized that the chaos he dreaded was no longer an eventuality but rather something that was already in process. Hadzen turned his face from the window; he relaxed his eyes because of what he saw-lies on t
As they stood in front of the modest suburban home, which had a calm appeal due to the fading blue paint on the shutters, Winter’s pulse raced. After exchanging anxious looks, one of her two pals, Crisa and Maris, reached out and pressed the doorbell. Winter’s chest constricted as the bell reverberated throughout the home. She had no idea what to anticipate. She could hardly recall her time here, much less the individuals she may encounter. The woman in her late thirties emerged as the door swung open. Her tired eyes grew wide as they met Winter’s, and her dark hair was pulled back in a loose bun. Her palm gripped the doorframe as though to steady herself, and her lips parted in a wordless gasp. “Winter.” With tears in her eyes, the woman’s voice broke. Unsure of what to say or do, Winter stood motionless. It was hard to ignore the intensity emanating from the woman, even though her face was unfamiliar. “Mom?” Winter hesitated, the word unfamiliar to her. The woman sprang for
The air in Hampton was heavy, the weight of decisions and revelations pressing down on Winter as she stood by the edge of the forest. The towering trees, their roots steeped in ancient magic, seemed to whisper warnings. Leaving the wolf’s sanctuary meant venturing into a world she had only glimpsed through distant memories—a world that neither embraced nor understood the Eclipse essence she now unknowingly carried. Hadzen stood beside her, his presence grounding her. His sharp gaze scanned the horizon, his usual stoic demeanor softened as he glanced her way. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low, laced with both worry and resolve. Winter tightened her grip on the straps of the bag slung over her shoulder. “I have to be. I need answers, Hadzen. About who I am… about what happened that night.” He nodded, his jaw tightening. “Then I’m coming with you. Whatever we face out there, we face it together.” Winter’s heart fluttered at his words, but she kept her emotions in
The only sound in the room was the gentle rustle of the curtains as a refreshing breeze entered through the open window. The mellow brightness of the candles strewn across the room blended with the moonlight, which created delicate silver streaks over the wooden floor. Curled up against Hadzen’s chest, Winter’s fingers traced languid lines across his exposed flesh. Her movements had a sensitivity that made his heart constrict, even though her touch was light and almost timid. At first, neither of them said anything. The silence was thick and heavy with feelings they weren’t yet ready to express, yet it wasn’t uncomfortable. You wanted to enjoy the moment since you knew it might not happen again, and it was the kind of silence. With his fingers stroking in calming circles, Hadzen’s hand lay gently on Winter’s back. For a minute he closed his eyes and breathed her in, the warmth of her body against his, the subtle lavender perfume in her hair. For as long as possible, he wanted to clin
The Hampton estate was oppressively quiet. Winter was standing by her room’s window, staring off into the huge forest beyond. She was struggling to breathe as the weight of the disclosures from the last few days slammed against her chest. She wasn’t Hannah. She wasn’t the ideal, compassionate, and predestined girl that everyone believed her to be. The delicate strands of her identity had been ripped by that fact, and she felt as though she was coming apart. The door behind her squeaked open. Winter did not arrive. She was not required to. The only person who could break through the jumble of her thoughts was someone she knew. Her voice was firm but scratchy as she replied, “I thought I locked the door.” Hadzen entered, his presence reverberating throughout the space. His golden eyes stared at her silhouetted figure against the faint moonlight for a moment before he spoke. At last, he murmured in a low, gravelly voice, “You did.” “I’m not interested.” The sight of him made Winter’
As they strolled in quiet, the group was bathed in dappled light from the morning sun that filtered through the thick forest canopy. Winter followed Hadzen, her mind still jumbled from the night they’d spent together. She couldn’t deny the throbbing warmth in her heart, which was a maelstrom of perplexity and shame. It was difficult to control the feelings that threatened to overtake her because of the constant cadence of Hadzen’s steps in front of her, which was both consoling and agonizing. “Winter.” Her reverie was interrupted by Hadzen’s forceful yet gentle voice. His keen eyes scanned her face as he paused to walk next to her. “You haven’t said anything.” She shrugged, avoiding his eyes. “I have a lot on my mind.” A slight smile twisted Hadzen’s lips. “You’ve never been adept at controlling your feelings.” His sly gaze caused Winter’s cheeks to heat up. “And your ability to read them is obnoxious.” He answered in a firm yet light tone, “I’d call it a skill.” As the
The silence of the Hampton estate was suffocating. Winter stood by the window of her room, her gaze lost in the vast expanse of the forest beyond. The weight of the revelations from the past few days pressed on her chest, leaving her gasping for air. She wasn’t Hannah. She wasn’t the girl everyone thought she was—perfect, kind, destined. That truth had severed the thin threads of her identity, and she felt like she was unraveling. Behind her, the door creaked open softly. Winter didn’t turn. She didn’t have to. She knew who it was—the only person who could cut through the chaos of her thoughts. “I thought I locked the door,” she said, her voice hoarse but steady. Hadzen stepped inside, his presence filling the room like a storm. He didn’t reply at first, his golden eyes locked on her figure silhouetted against the pale moonlight. “You did,” he finally said, his voice low, gravelly. “I don’t care.” Winter turned to face him, her chest tightening at the sight of him. His hair w
As Winter, Hadzen, Sonia, and Ericka stood close to Hampton’s gates, prepared to go, the early morning air hung thick. With a worried expression on her face, Maxine had observed them from the stairs. She had vehemently opposed Winter’s departure, but it had been hard to deny her resolve. As she pulled Winter into an embrace, Maxine’s voice was tight as she whispered, “Promise me you’ll come back.” Winter held her close and said, “I will, Mom.” The group now stepped into the tree shadows, the forest stretching on forever in front of them. Even though they had no idea where they were going, Hadzen guided them with unwavering assurance and his keen intuition. Winter strolled next to him, the dim light filtering through the thick canopy, almost illuminating her pale complexion. As they moved further, Sonia said, her keen eyes darting about, “This place feels… different.” From the back, Ericka murmured quietly and grimly, “It’s because we’re getting close to the Veil. This i