The cold wind roared through Hampton's dense forest, whistling a sad tune that seemed to go well with the tension hanging heavy over the estate. Trees swayed under the pressure, whispering their secrets from the centuries back. No one dared utter these secrets out loud. Ericka sat in the east wing by the big window, staring out to the horizon. She had yet to speak since returning to Hampton. Her face was bitter-sweet, a mixture of sorrow and anger. The pale face reflected dim light filtering through the glass; it cast a ghostly glow over her sharp features. Her past scars clung to her like a shadow, haunting and relentless. "Ericka?" Hadzen's voice cut into the silence as he entered the room. He furrowed his brow at what he saw. He did not miss the way her shoulders stiffened at his presence. What do you want? Ericka's tone was brusque, her voice hollow. Hadzen ignored her hostility and moved closer. "You can't keep shutting everyone out. You're back. The least you can do is—"
Darkness fell on Hampton; night hung above, enveloped by thick clouds, and shaggy shadows reached and wrapped themselves around the edges of the woods floor. The house, meanwhile, was unnaturally quiet-too quiet-for anything should have been still when awaiting the storm. Winter sat at the edge of her bed, with her arms curled over her knees as she blankly watched the glowing embers in the fireplace dance with fire. Ericka's words were ringing in her head, venomous and relentless. “They bestowed upon her all that was rightfully mine.” Winter swallowed hard, a tightness gripping her throat. She knew those words—they had echoed in her ears during her lonely days in the human world, when the bullies had mercilessly taunted her for being something she had yet to understand. Now, in what she believed to be her second chance, those same words returned to haunt her once more. It made Ameila give heed unto soft throb from the door. "Winter?" It was Maxine's voice. "Come in," Winter
Cold air touched Winter's skin as she loitered outside the great hall of Hampton, her breathing visible in misting clouds in the sharp cold. Everything seemed heavier now—Hannah and Ericka and herself fractured within this world. Tonight, though, for the first time in what seemed to her like ages, she discovered comfort in being surrounded. He stood there with his hands in his coat, burrowing his way within, looking intently on the profile and letting in just a shred of affection with his bright features being stifled in stumbling forward like he might sense this turmoil brewing in her. “You have been silent," Hadzen finally said, breaking the silence. Winter smiled faintly, her lips curved with that ghost of a smile as she replied, "When haven't I?" Hadzen exhaled a small laugh, shaking his head. "That's not true," he said. "I remember when you used to fight me at every word. Called me names. Questioned every decision I made." Winter raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying that y
The following morning, inside Hadzen’s treehouse, shadows were cast by the golden light of dawn filtering through the forest’s branches. Winter slowly woke, sensing a slight warmth under her cheek. She sat up immediately, her breath hitching as she realized she had been leaning against Hadzen. Her abrupt movement caused Hadzen, whose visage was still mellow from sleep, to blink awake. His voice was thick as he said, “Good morning.” Winter muttered, “Sorry,” as she shifted into a new position, her cheeks reddening. “I didn’t intend to—slumber in that manner.” With a sly smile, Hadzen extended his arms above his head. “I have no issues. You needed to sleep.” Winter averted her eyes, acutely conscious of their continued proximity. “We ought to return. I guess it’s getting late.” Hadzen didn’t protest, but there was something unreadable in his face. When Winter stopped at the top of the ladder, he offered her his hand and climbed down first. Her fingers automatically curled around
The air was heavier than normal in the pack house the following morning. Winter stayed in the kitchen, staring blankly out the window while clutching a mug of tea. She felt wobbly after her sleepless night, remnants of the dark nightmares lingering at the corners of her mind. There he was—Hadzen—leaning against the doorway, his brows knitted in apprehension. “Have you slept at all?” Winter tried a small grin as she looked at him. “More or less.” Hadzen rejected it, moving closer to see her pallid face. “You appear to have seen a ghost.” She tightened her hold on the mug and murmured, “Maybe I have.” “What if this is all an error, Hadzen? What if—” “Cease.” As he moved in front of her, Hadzen spoke in a forceful yet kind tone. “We have experienced this. Winter, you won’t figure everything out right away. You’re not alone, though.” With the weight of his words pressing against the barriers she had erected around herself, Winter glanced up at him. She nodded, her throat
The following morning was gloomy and overcast, with heavy clouds in the sky that foretold rain. Winter saw drips collect on her room’s window while she sat there. Everything from the previous day—Ericka’s charges, Leo’s mounting danger, and the Eclipse Essence’s discovery—repeated in her head. She looked up as she heard a gentle knock on her door. “Enter now.” Maxine came in with a little breakfast tray. She placed it carefully on the table and then sat next to Winter, her face gentle but exhausted. “You haven’t eaten much,” Maxine remarked softly. “You must maintain your strength.” Winter smiled slightly, but her appetite was still nonexistent. “Thank you, Mom.” Maxine seemed taken aback by the word “Mom,” as she froze. She immediately covered up the emotion that shimmered in her eyes. “Winter, you no longer need to refer to me by that name. I am aware of this circumstance—” Winter met her gaze and interrupted quietly, “You’re my mom. You reared me even though I wasn’t b
As Winter cautiously entered the jungle, the rain came down in torrents. The sound of her boots squelching on the muddy ground was nearly drowned out by the unrelenting rain, and her breath mingled in the chilly air. There was no sign of the shadow she had seen earlier, but she felt a strong inner drive to move forward. “Ericka?” Winter’s voice could hardly be heard above the rain as she shouted out. She was met with silence. The distant brightness of the windows gave her a false sense of security as she looked back toward the house. Even though something didn’t feel right, she persisted out of curiosity and instinct. She moved deeper into the forest with each step, the thick trees protecting her from the wind but making her feel even more alone. Why am I here at all? Winter pondered as she wiped the wetness from her cheeks. Then a whisper reached her ears. A voice so weak that it was nearly lost in the downpour. “Winter.” She stopped. From someplace to her left, she heard th
The Conflict Starts.... Violence erupted in the clearing as Hadzen struck Leo with relentless ferocity. The sound of their impact shook the trees around them as it thundered through the woodland. Winter’s eyes were wide with dread as she climbed to her feet, gasping, her chest heaving as she watched the fight. Leo staggered back but got up fast, wiping a smear of blood from the corner of his mouth while wearing a ghastly smile. “Oh, Hadzen, you’re stronger than I thought. But she won’t be saved by strength.” Hadzen’s sole response was a growl that echoed in the depths of his chest; he didn’t reply. His dark hair was brushed against his forehead by the rain, and his eyes shone dimly in the low light. He didn’t plan on losing this battle. “Remain clear of her!” Hadzen surged forward once more, his motions a blur, and punched Leo in the jaw. Hadzen’s fist touched Leo’s shoulder, sending him reeling back, but Leo managed to sidestep just in time. Even though his breath was alre
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